#i love him for the things that make him boring to you

[madamechrissy]

Would you come with me?

oneshot preview

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader

Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?

CW: NSFT-MDNI- Going to have smut at the end like all my oneshots do, lots of sexual tension, light angst but mostly fluffy, friends to lovers AND marriage of convenience trope lol. Explicit sex, oral sex, it's me so a breed kink, gonna be a LONG oneshot, Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad.

This is what won for the poll on the thank you for 5k followerss!! <3 Comment to get added to the taglist!!!

“You love me, right?”

You blink a bit, as you stare at Satoru Gojo, he’s been your best friend all throughout high school and even before you’ve known him. You’re sitting across from him, while he’s sipping boba with you, his Gucci shades perched on the bridge of that straight nose, a smirk on his glossy lips. You tilt your head curiously at him, of course you love Satoru, but he only pulls this when he needs a favor.

“What’d you get into this time, Toru?” You demand, he gasps then, affronted, a hand to his chest.

“Excuse me, missy? I’m just asking if you love me.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your seat in the little cafe. “Of course, you know I love your goofy ass.”

Satoru takes off his glasses, those swirling blue eyes wrecking you as they have all these years, usually you can put up enough of a barrier not to let them consume you, but apparently you haven’t today. You watch those snowy lashes lower when his eyes bore into you, swirling storms of bright blue, you have to snap yourself out of it.

Being Satoru Gojo’s best friend wasn’t for the weak.

“How much you love me, hmm?”

“What is it you need, an alibi?” He snorts then, shaking his head and wrapping his lips around the straw.

“M’not Suguru, shit… no, I need a really big favor. Like… the biggest favor, but if you agree, I can really make it worth your while.”

“Okay this isn’t a mobster movie, Toru, what is it?” Satoru looks down then, long fingers swirling around the top of his cup, before his eyes snap back to yours.

“What if I said I’d help you with all that student loan debt, and buy you a shiny brand new car?”

“I don’t want your money, I do fine okay?”

“Your car is old enough to drink.”

“Fuck off!” Your glare makes him snort in laughter. “It is not, it’s like… not even old enough to vote… I don’t think.”

“It’s old, sweets. Say you also had a place to stay, for free?”

“Satoru this isn’t Pretty Woman-”

“I love that movie!”

“Satoru! What are you getting at!?” You’re crossing your arms then, raising a brow at the lanky man across from you, whose legs are spread wide in his dark blue dress pants, he’s pulling just a bit at his silky black tie.

Satoru has taken a huge role recently in his family business, the conglomerate that owned a million different things, you know how much he detests it, but once Satoru graduated college his family pushed it more and more. At this point he was thriving, doing most of the work with his father taking much more of a back seat, his health starting to deteriorate.

You and Gojo spend more time together than ever, you know he needs his friend, especially with Suguru having left for some time, the two of them not together was always hard on him. You’d been friends with both of them, but Suguru seems to have left and found his own calling, swinging through to see you both from time to time, but much is different since those days at Tokyo high.

Not you and Satoru though.

For the longest time you pined away for him, but you never made that move, aside from one stolen kiss in a closet during seven minutes in heaven, and Satoru had it bad for you all of Junior and Senior year, but the two of you never risked it, your friendship. And now you’re glad to have him in your life, but it’s hard to even think of someone serious when he’s so brightly and firmly in your life.

“This is a huge favor I need, it’s… a lot to ask.” Satoru murmurs softly, you tense a bit, brows drawing together.

“What’s wrong, is everything okay?” Your voice is a low hum as you murmur, he nods just a bit.

“Yeah it’s fine just… I’m being forced to choose a bride, and they have many candidates.” He laughs humorlessly, and your heart breaks for him.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Satoru. I thought you’d have longer?”

“Yeah, I wish.” He runs a hand through his silky white locks, looking down for a moment, lips that always smirk or maybe pout actually frowning. “I need to just get it done, get em off my ass.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, why not tell em to fuck themselves, hmm? Where’s my Toru!?”

“He’s exhausted.” He swipes a hand across his face, and you lean closer, hand on his leg, his eyes sliding back to yours.

“Do you want me to help find someone? I have a lot of good friends in high families… find you someone not money hungry, not a psycho? How much time do you even have?”

“That’s not what I'm asking.” He puts his big hand over yours now, sighing, leaning closer to you. “I’m asking if you want to.”

“If I want to, what exactly?”

“Marry me?”

“What!?” He chuckles then, but even that sound is exhausted.

“You forget you’re from a top family, nah it’s not the Gojo clan but…”

“Satoru…”

“Just for like a bit? To get em to leave me alone, let me gain some more power. All for show, and I’ll help you with anything, I promise.” He’s clutching your hand, and suddenly the room feels like it’s spinning.

“Wh-why me? We… you… I…”

“You’re my best friend, it would be like being roommates damn near. You could… do your thing as long as you’re discrete.” He murmurs, you want to laugh then, as if you’ve done anything in a couple of years now. “And I would be discrete, respectful, we’d just be in name, appearance. We’re best friends, it will be a piece of cake, and most of all… I trust you.”

You try to digest all the information, blinking and trying not to think the insane thoughts that come with it, but you fail. “But won’t they want… an heir?”

Satoru’s cheeks flush bright pink now. “We don’t need to… I’d never ask you to do that, ever I swear. I’d never be an ass like that.”

You feel your heart racing as you shove back all of the images you should not have for your friend. “I know, I know. But… they’d-”

“That’s the thing, a year or so and they’ll back off. Give me time to fix some mistakes, with dad being sick… I’m not saying I won’t miss him, but how he is running shit? No, I know I can make things better, take down these shitty higher ups who are so greedy. You just could give me more time, and I promise I’ll do anything I can to help you too.”

“It’s insane, this is marriage!” You blink a bit, shifting, his hand now brushing back a lock of hair from your forehead, a familiar gesture that now takes on something more intimate.

“It can just be for show, we’ll be the same best friends as always. I have no one I can imagine even living with but you, maybe Suguru but… he’s not a girl.”

“He has that long silky hair?” You both laugh a little, softly then.

“He sure does, but… you’re prettier to look at.”

“Flattery? Stop that. It’s insane, and… how would we even explain it in such a rush?”

“We’ve been friends forever. Who wouldn’t believe that we got together? It’s even easier. I mean, maybe a couple kisses and things for show, but… you’ve kissed me before, remember?” He’s grinning wide then, you shove at him playfully. “That closet was cramped, hmm?”

“Oh shut it, that was so long ago. I mean, if you really need me, you know I’ll do this for you. I don’t expect you to go all out on anything for me in return.” Satoru pauses now, watching how the light streaming in through the large cafe windows hits your pretty face, as you explain to him that you’d want nothing in return for this!? For this huge imposition on your life.

You have always been the sweetest, best friend he has had, so important to him he’s never dared to cross that line, and he knows it will tempt him to no end to do this, but he also knows he can trust you. “Let me just take care of a few things for you, you can almost see it as a job. There will be events, meetings with the other leaders, trust me. Like anything I can do, you’ll be helping me so much.”

“Alright.”

“What!?”

He’s hugging you tightly to him, you giggle a bit, breathless. “Yeah, I’ll do it… I need a nice car though, Toru. A BMW?”

“I’ll get you ten BMWs.”

“Jesus, no. Silly boy.” You giggle as you look up at him, your best friend, but then your heart falters when he’s just a bit too close.

“Should we practice kissing now?” He teases, voice husky.

“Satoru, you're insufferable.”

He pouts now, and you swallow down the fact that you don’t know if you can even handle kissing his lips.

Should be out sometime this weekend!- after this is the Stripclub Sukuna full oneshot then Mr. Yan Choso hehe <3

permatags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw @aldebrana @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 gojo: @haruhatake @strychnynegirl @jinjen suggestion from the lovely @bunheadusa

[lunarriviera]

There's actually a couple more additional aspects that can make a difference, if you're a fiction writer, to help your reader. 1. We all know that the most common narrative tag should be "says" or "said" (depending on what verb tense you're writing in). But given that, it's useful to vary the way that's structured as well, alternating it with the noun/subject:

"Spock, I'm tired of this," Kirk said. "I don't want to go on this way any longer." "I see," said Spock, after a moment. There was a pause. He said, "Would you be willing to explain what is troubling you?"

In this example the verb hasn't changed, but the order in which it's deployed has (though tbh if I weren't making that point I probably would have introduced the third utterance with, "before he added").

2. Vis-à-vis the point about paragraph breaks letting the reader know that someone new is speaking, it's really important to keep the utterances of a single character together. Even when the speech acts are broken up by a fair amount of description:

"Fine," says Watson, shortly. He bends down to the dining table then and concentrates on making his sandwich: brown bread, butter, and a thick layer of strawberry jam. Outside their flat, the starlings are deafening, clustering noisily around Mrs. Hudson's bird feeder. "There's just one more thing, Sherlock," he adds, as he slams the two slices of bread together. "Oh? And what's that," asks Sherlock, not looking around his newspaper.

I often see writers tempted to start a new paragraph at any point between Watson's first and second utterances, but please resist that temptation. Otherwise we're going to have to reread it at least twice to figure out what's going on. Always save your white space for a change of character, in dialogue. (And conversely don't add a space when a character simply changes the subject. If it's still the same character, it's still the same utterance/speech act.)

3. In both of the above examples, the narrative tag comes after the utterance, which is typical, but if you do that too repetitively it gets boring like anything else. Start some paragraphs/sentences with description or exposition, then drop in the utterance. It's best if you go back and forth between these. Changing length of speech acts is very good too! People don't speak in complete sentences anyway.

John didn't respond for a moment, but sat motionless, looking out over the water. When he finally spoke his voice was hoarse. "Why? You owe me that much." "Fine! I'll tell you." This was followed by a bewildering silence during which Rodney walked around in a circle waving his hands, and then stood spluttering inarticulately. "Rodney?" John turned around despite himself. McKay kicked a chair before glaring at him. "You have a master's degree! How are you this dense? Were you ever going to— Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "To what?" "Ask me to marry you!"

I threw in a couple other little tricks in here to keep things moving, though it's pretty terrible as far as dialogue goes. What I usually do is write dialogue, then later try to take out approximately half of it. This is an old hack I learned during a playwrighting class in grad school. We actually had the actors fold their sides in half and only read the first halves of the written dialogue. This will never work, we thought, it won't make any sense. IT WAS INCREDIBLE, PLS TRY IT.

(and no I don't know why everyone in the examples is breaking up i'm a angst-loving pantser okay lbr these men aren't always going to get along)

Writing Tips

Punctuating Dialogue

✧

➸ “This is a sentence.”

➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.

➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”

➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”

➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”

➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”

➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.

“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.

“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”

➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”

➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”

However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!

➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.

If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)

➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“

“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.

➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.

➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”

➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.

“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”

➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.

“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”

[missmimii]

୨ৎ－𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | 𝐂 －𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In which Chris leaves the reader craving more than the usual nods of approval, the girl begins to wonder—how far is she willing to go to hear the words she so desperately needs?

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, Voyeur!Chris/Dom!Chris, praising, pet names, detailed sexual encounter, light degradation, face grabbing, fingering, dom + sub dynamics (and probably more but I’m tired.)

Chris knew Y/n.

The boy had liked watching her more than he’d ever care to admit. Almost as if she were his prey. Through their 8 gruelling years of friendship, Chris had chalked the girl down into one word. Perfect. She didn’t get angry, maybe frustrated, but never angry. He knew the way she blew her hair away from her nose when she was drawing, the way her hands wrung together when she was nervous－he even knew her favourite brand of lingerie to buy from. She was such a sweet little thing, timid and loving toward the boy since the day they’d met in middle school.

Chris had always been good at reading people, and with her, it hadn’t taken him long to figure out the girl’s little secret. It was in the way the girls’s eyes lit up whenever he tossed her a casual “Good job,” or how her cheeks flushed when he complimented her outfit, even if it was something simple. She tried to hide it—laughing off his words like they meant nothing—but the soft smile she couldn’t quite suppress always gave her away. It was subtle at first, but once he noticed, he couldn’t stop. And honestly? Watching her glow under his praise was something he didn’t mind one bit.

And use it to his advantage occasionally.

“Chris,” she sobbed out softly, tears gathering along her water-line as she started at him with a pitiful expression. The boy almost cooed at the sorrowful sight of the girl, sprawled out weakly, a hand between her thighs as she gently swirled her fingers around her fluttering hole.

She watched as Chris’s hooded eyes roamed her face along with the exceptional fleeting gaze to her glistening cunt, a hand running down his clenched jaw as he leaned back in the chair he used as a throne. If it weren’t for his raging, visible hard on, the girl would’ve almost thought he was bored.

His expression lacked any emotion, and she couldn’t decipher whether or not her body loved it－or hated it. “Please . . Please－” her head fell back onto his pillows, the tears that pleaded to fall finally descending down her flushed cheeks. She shakily ran the tips of her fingers down her soaked slit, pressing down gently－clueless on what to do.

The worst part was she could feel his eyes on her. Not only was she shy, but he was watching her suffer, and refused to help. “Keep going.” She sniffed at his words, almost wanting to shake her head as her hand shook. It didn’t feel like him. “You don’t want me to come the fuck over there.” He threatened. I kindaaa do, she thought to herself.

Holding the snarky remark, she slowly began to ease her middle finger inside of her pulsing heat, moaning gently. “Mm . . . That’s a good girl.” Fuck. A broken whine tore from her throat, making Chris chuckle as she worked her finger faster. It hurts so good, Chris thought to himself.

As much as he’d like to stalk over there and get on top of her －give it to her like no other, he felt an odd sense of pleasure in seeing her writhe, struggle. Chris’s throat bobbed as he palmed over his strained jeans, grunting under his breath as his eyes fluttered. God, he needed to fuck her.

Lost in her own pleasure, she didn’t even pick up on the sound of his steps getting closer to her sprawled out body, or the warmth of his larger stature beginning to melt atop hers. Chris chuckled softly to himself, seeing her parted lips, drool slipping from her beautiful mouth as she panted.

Her eyes shot open as a palm pressed over her mouth, gasp eliciting her lips as she met eyes with the brown haired boy. “Shhhhh . . .” Strands of his slightly－yet perfectly outgrown hair fell above his eyebrows. A dark look, sheer over his pupils as he deepened his gaze into her, boring into her shy ones with intensity.

“Look at me,” he demanded gently as her gaze faltered from his nervously. “Be a good girl and look at me, hm?” Chris hummed as her pupils dilated, automatically attached to his as the soft praise left his bitten lips. “Thasss’ a good baby,” she blinked slowly at his words her smaller hand coming up to grip onto his wrist for security. “Yeah, just like that.” Her eyes widened as she felt his other hand mold atop hers, guiding two of her fingers into her pussy slowly. “Hold on f’me.” Fuck.

Chris smirked sadistically, watching her eyes flutter and roll back, her teeth biting into his palm. “How’s that?” He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, hooded eyes glued to hers as his thumb rolled over her clit. “Better?” Chris mocked gently, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Hm?” She attempted to get her words out, but they ended up a jumbled mess of incoherent sentences.

“Just shut up.”

A moan left her muffled lips, making Chris scoff. “You like that?” He ran his thumb across his cheek, before it met the supple skin of her bottom lip. Her chest heaved, no response leaving her mouth as he gazed into his eyes heavily.

Chris tilted his head, cooing ever so softly, as he felt the walls of her tight cunt squeezing around his long fingers. “Oh, baby.” A broken whine came from her lips, more tears falling as he lowered his lips to her ear. Chris’s jaw brushed against her’s, the curve of his perfect nose running down the angle of her pulse. “I almost would’ve felt bad if this wasn’t so pathetic.” He uttered gently, nipping at her neck.

Lost in a haze of pleasure, she barely even noticed how Chris’s fingers slowly released from her sopping heat. Right before she came. “Wait－wait－wait－please,” Her eyes batted open, hand fumbling to grab his wrist. Chris tutted softly, grabbing the hand and holding it above her head. “Ah, ah.” Chris practically pried her hands off of him. “I helped, now it’s your turn.”

He watched as a perplexed expression crossed her features. My turn? He was helping me, she thought. “Don’t argue.” He interjected before she could even utter a word. Chris stalked back to his seat, adjusting himself as he began to undo his belt. “What’re you waiting for, hm?” Chris tilted his head, jaw ticking with a smirk as he toyed with the buckle.

“Be a good girl and touch yourself.”

🏷️－୨ৎ－ @fratbrochrisgf @jetaimevous @sturniolosarethebest @stonermattsgf @st7rnioioss @endereies @pkfferoo @mqttittude @mattsbrowser @conspiracy-ash @sturnshood

[rootedinrevisions]

Shattered and Rebuilt

SUMMARY: After a week of poor decisions drifts you and Tyler apart, a life-threatening tornado brings you and Tyler face to face with your deepest fears. Amidst the wreckage of the storm, you discover the vulnerability and love you've been hiding from each other. As you navigate jealousy, insecurity, and past mistakes, you must find a way to rebuild what was almost lost and redefine what it means to be truly vulnerable with each other.

A/N: Thank you so much to @imagine-all-the-fandoms for sending this request in! I know you sent it back in November, and I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get it posted. I wrote this and then kept adding more and more to it because I kept coming up with new ideas or ways to develop the story even further. Hopefully you enjoy it! xx

WORD COUNT: 11.9k

TAGS: In Comments.

The hum of Tyler’s red Dodge pickup truck filled the air as the tires crunched over gravel, signaling your arrival at the roadside gast station. Out the window, Oklahoma stretched endlessly, a patchwork of flat fields and distant clouds that carried a whisper of the chaos you were chasing this week.

A “Once in a Lifetime Tornado Outbreak” they had called it. And as soon as Tyler got wind of it, you and the rest of the team were loading up the gear and making your way from Arkansas to Oklahoma.

“All right,” Tyler announced, his voice warm but laced with a slight hint of his usual no-nonsense drawl. “Gas stop. Grab whatever you need ‘cause after this, we’re not stoppin’.”

From your spot in the backseat, you stretched, bumping into Ben, the South London journalist currently occupying your personal space as you were squished between him and some of the gear Tyler kept in the backseat. He shifted awkwardly with an apologetic smile.

"Quite the operation you’ve got here," Ben said, his crisp accent standing out like a sore thumb in this dusty corner of America. "I imagine this stop isn’t just about petrol, though. Snacks are the real fuel, yeah?"

Boone, in the passenger seat, barked out a laugh and twisted around to face us. "Damn straight, mate. Tyler’s got a thing for gas station jerky. Won’t admit it, but he eats that stuff like it’s gourmet."

Tyler shot Boone a glare that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, and you’re one to talk with your armful of chocolate donuts every time we stop. Besides,"—his gaze flicked up to the rearview mirror, locking with yours for just a second too long—"some people come outta these places with enough candy to stock a piñata."

You smirked, leaning forward between the seats so your chin rested on the back of Tyler's shoulder. "Are you saying you have a problem with my impeccable snack choices, Owens?"

He didn’t look at you, but you didn’t miss the twitch of his lips. "Didn’t say that. Just pointin’ out that your ‘impeccable choices’ mean sticky fingers all over my truck."

"Like jerky grease is any better?" You shot back, raising a brow.

Boone groaned, pulling a ball cap down over his face. "Here we go again."

Ben leaned over, amused. "This feels like foreplay, doesn’t it?"

"Ben!" I shot him a look, feeling heat crawl up my neck, but Tyler, ever unflappable, simply chuckled as he parked by the gas pump.

"Y’all are hopeless," Tyler said, pushing open his door. He turned to you, one boot on the pavement and an easy grin playing on his lips. "You comin’, or are you too busy defendin’ your snack habits to stretch your legs?"

"Depends," You said, hopping out of the truck and closing the door with a satisfying slam. "You gonna buy me a drink, or are you just here to trash talk my love of Skittles?"

His eyes glinted under the brim of his weathered Stetson. "That depends. You gonna keep makin’ me regret lettin’ you in my truck, or you finally gonna admit you’d be bored if you rode with Lily?"

You rolled your eyes, tossing Tyler a glance over your shoulder as you headed toward the gas station with Boone, Lily, Dexter, and Dani in tow. "If I admit it, you’ll never let me live it down. And we can’t have that."

Tyler’s laughter followed you as the glass doors of the gas station swung shut behind you, the cool air blasting away the lingering warmth of the Oklahoma sun. The gas station smelled like cheap coffee and cleaning supplies, the fluorescent lights humming faintly overhead. 

You stood in the candy aisle, staring at the two options of brightly colored Skittles packets as if your life depended on the choice between regular and sour.

"Regular or sour," You muttered under your breath, weighing the pros and cons as if this wasn’t a completely ridiculous debate. Regular was classic, reliable—always good. Sour was bold, unexpected, a little more fun. Your fingers hovered between the two when a glimpse of movement outside the window caught your attention.

You glanced over the top of the shelf, peering out into the midday sun, where Tyler’s familiar figure was strolling across the grassy lot. Your brow furrowed slightly as you followed his path to…her. 

She was standing just off to the side of the gas station, her light hair pulled up with a claw clip swaying in the breeze as she gazed out at the horizon. She was new. Or at least you assumed since you’d never seen her. She was apparently tagging along with Storm Par for the week, and while you didn’t know much about her, she seemed okay.

Tyler reached her, and you watched as she turned to him as he said something. He gestured out toward the horizon, his hands moving as he spoke, probably talking about something weather-related.

That was just Tyler—always the helpful one. Always looking out for everyone, wanting to make them feel welcome.

That’s all it was, you told myself. Just him being his usual kind, good-natured self. But then he gave her that smirk. The one that was all effortless charm and made you feel like you were the only person in the world he cared to talk to.

A strange pang stirred in your chest, sharp and sudden, and you quickly looked away.

It’s nothing. You grabbed the bag of regular Skittles off the shelf, hesitated, and grabbed the sour ones too. He’s allowed to talk to whoever he wants. He’s even allowed to flirt with whoever he wants.

Still, the pang lingered as you made your way toward the checkout. Passing the jerky section, you paused, scanning the shelves until you  found it—Tyler’s favorite brand and flavor. Without thinking, you grabbed two bags and tucked them under your arm.

At the drink cooler, you slid open the glass door and grabbed two bottles of his usual drink. It was an easy rhythm, something you’d done countless times without a second thought. He’d grumble and tease you about spoiling him, but you always noticed how he’d crack a smile and finish every bite and sip.

By the time you reached the register, your arms were full. Skittles for you, jerky and drinks for Tyler.

You dumped the lot onto the counter, pulling a crumpled twenty out of your pocket as the cashier scanned the items. You focused intently on the cashier’s polite small talk, anything to keep from glancing out the window again.

Because you didn’t care. Or at least, that’s what you kept telling myself.

* * *

The motel’s neon vacancy sign buzzed faintly in the warm night air later that day, casting a faint red glow across the gravel lot where the storm-chasing teams had gathered. Most of the trucks were parked in a line, their roof racks empty, and gear scattered across the lot as repairs and tune-ups were underway.

The hum of your laptop filled the air as you and Dani hunched over the screen. The numbers were staggering.

“Nearly fifty thousand people at one time,” Dani said, leaning closer to the screen. She looked at you with wide eyes and a grin. “This is huge. One of our biggest streams yet.”

“Yeah, we did it,” Boone said from the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame.

“Now we gotta figure out how to top it,” Dani smirked, nudging your shoulder. She glanced at you slyly. “Maybe we should give the viewers more of you and Tyler. That always gets people talking.”

You rolled your eyes, though your face heated at the comment. Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the chatter outside.

“City girl.”

The nickname made your head snap up. You turned toward the roof of the truck, seeing Tyler perched, his hands still fiddling with a piece of equipment as he looked up toward the staircase.

Your gaze followed his line of sight to see Kate— that was her name—standing on the landing of the second-floor staircase. She leaned casually against the railing, looking down at Tyler with a faint, curious smile.

“The cells to the west will choke each other out, she said. The one to the east will put on a show,” Tyler recited, his tone laced with amusement.

“Didn’t throw you off the scent,” Kate replied smoothly, her expression unreadable.

“Hey, that’s what makes Tyler famous,” Boone chimed in, grinning as he wiped his hands on a rag.

“You mean on YouTube?” Kate raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in a barely-there smirk.

Tyler froze for a second, glancing up from the equipment in his hands, and you could almost see the flash of slight irritation in his eyes. He hated when people reduced what he did to just being about clout.

“Uh, y-yeah. Yeah, we’re on the YouTube,” he said, trying to recover with his usual confidence. “We’ve got, what, about a million subscribers now?”

“Yes, sir!” Lily called from across the lot, her voice cheerful as the rest of the group laughed.

“Kate what?” Ben interrupted, scribbling furiously in his notepad. He glanced up at her, pen poised. “Your surname, just in case I include you in my piece.”

Kate hesitated, her posture shifting slightly as if the question made her uncomfortable. “Oh, um, just Kate’s fine,” she said finally.

“She’s a tricky one,” Tyler said, his voice light but teasing.

Boone pointed his finger toward Kate, grinning. “Actually, you made a good call earlier. That eastern cell? It looked stronger, but the cap never broke. You nailed it.”

“Where did you guys all meet?” Kate asked, quickly steering the conversation away from herself. “Did you, uh, study meteorology at the U of A?”

A chorus of laughter erupted from the group. Dani shook her head, Lily and Dexter chuckled, and you stifled a smile.

“No, no,” Boone said, raising a hand. “All right, Kate, me? I just flow with the wind, you know? Never went to, like, school or nothing.” He pointed toward Tyler. “Now, Tyler, though—he studied meteorology.”

“Him?” Kate asked, her tone incredulous as she looked at Tyler.

Tyler simply nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, he’s a cowboy scientist,” Boone continued. “He’s got this natural instinct. Taught me everything I know—”

“Boone,” Tyler interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut Boone off before he said too much. Boone just shrugged. “Our crew’s not like your crew, Kate. We don’t need PhDs and fancy gadgets to do what we do. I guarantee you these guys have seen more tornadoes than anyone else in this lot combined.”

“Is that right?” Kate said, her tone thick with skepticism.

Tyler leaned back against his truck, lifting a can of Budweiser to his lips. “But if you can keep up, we’ll put you in the episode,” he said with a smirk before taking a slow sip.

“Wow,” Kate replied dryly, her sarcasm thick.

“Where are you chasing tomorrow?” Lily asked, looking up at Kate.

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Tyler said, cutting in before Kate could answer. “Not falling for that again. Kate’s from New York. Can’t trust a thing she says.”

Kate shot back without missing a beat. “Well, can always trust a guy who puts his face on a T-shirt.”

The group erupted into laughter, and you glanced over at Tyler, catching the way he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek in response to her quick jab.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he’s flustered, you thought, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe he was letting her get to him like this.

* * *

THE NEXT EVENING

The team returned to the motel just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The exhaustion from the day’s chaos was written all over everyone’s faces. After hours of chasing storms, and helping devastated families sift through the rubble of their lives, the weight of it hung heavy in the air. But there was a collective unspoken agreement—you needed to decompress before the next round.

Boone stretched his arms overhead as he leaned against the truck, his voice cutting through the quiet. “Alright, I don’t know about y’all, but I need a drink. There’s a bar down the road that looked promising. Who’s in?”

Dani perked up immediately. “Count me in. I could use a little fun after today.”

Dexter didn’t even hesitate. “I’m game.”

Ben nodded, brushing dust off his shirt. “Sounds nice.”

You glanced at Tyler, who stood off to the side, wiping his hands on a rag after finishing some last-minute adjustments to the equipment. “What about you, Ty? You coming?”

He paused, tossing the rag onto the tailgate before meeting your gaze. “Think I’m gonna sit this one out. Got some old friends from the rodeo circuit in town. Thought I’d swing by and catch up.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, crossing your arms. “You can’t leave me with these guys.” You gestured toward Boone, Dani, Lily, Ben and Dexter, who were already debating what drink to start with. “And besides who’s going to make sure I don’t get into trouble?”

Tyler chuckled, his smile easy but firm. “You’ll be fine. Besides,” he said, pointing a finger at Boone and Dani, “if anyone’s gonna get into trouble, it’s those two.”

You hesitated for a second, then ventured, “I could come with you instead. I don’t mind skipping the bar.”

He shook his head, a soft look in his eyes as he leaned against the truck. “Nah, you go have fun. You earned it.” He smirked. “Just don’t go using my credit card this time. Pay for your own drinks, sweetheart.”

Boone let out a loud laugh. “You hear that, sweetheart? Daddy Tyler says no spending his hard-earned YouTube money!”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as Tyler fought to hide his grin.

“Seriously, though,” Tyler said, his tone lighter but still genuine, “go unwind. You guys deserve it after today. I’ll catch up with y’all later.”

With that, he grabbed his hat off the dash and settled it onto his head, giving you one last nod before heading off in his truck. You watched him for a moment as he drove away, the familiar rumble of his engine fading into the night.

“Well,” Boone said, clapping his hands together, “guess it’s just us. Let’s go get a drink.”

You followed the others down the road, but your thoughts lingered on Tyler. Something about the way he’d brushed off your offer to join him left a strange feeling in your chest.

Shaking it off, you decided to focus on the night ahead—Tyler could handle himself, and so could you.

The bar was alive with the sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and a live band playing a familiar country tune in the corner. Boone and Dexter were deep into a game of darts while Dani and Ben sat at the bar debating their drink choices. You sipped your second drink of the night, enjoying the rare chance to unwind after the chaos of the day.

Just as you started to relax, your phone buzzed on the table. At first, you ignored it, assuming it was some random notification, but the persistent buzz caught your attention. Picking it up, you saw the words that sent a chill through your veins: Tornado Warning: Seek Shelter Immediately.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you quickly opened your weather app. Your fingers moved on autopilot, pulling up the radar. The ominous red box of the warning covered the area around the motel, and the storm cell you saw forming earlier had grown stronger—far stronger.

“Oh, my God,” you muttered, your eyes locking on the radar.

The tornado wasn’t just nearby. It was forming right over the motel and the rodeo.

The others noticed your sudden change in demeanor. “What’s up?” Boone asked, stepping closer as he wiped his hands on his shorts.

“There’s a tornado warning,” you said, your voice tight. “It’s right over the motel—where Tyler is.”

Boone’s face went pale. “Are you sure?”

You spun the screen around to show him. The rotating cell was unmistakable, its path heading straight for where Tyler and the equipment were. “We have to go. Now.”

Ben stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket. “Is it normal for one to form that fast like that?”

Dani shook her head and grabbed her phone, already calling Tyler, but the call went straight to voicemail.

“He’s not picking up,” she said, her voice edged with panic.

You grabbed your keys, adrenaline surging as you bolted toward the exit. “We can’t wait. We need to get to him and warn him before it touches down.”

The group rushed outside, the once-clear night now eerily still. The wind had picked up, and the air carried that unmistakable electric charge that came before a storm. Clouds swirled above, illuminated by flashes of lightning.

As you all piled into Boone’s van, your hands shook, not just from fear but from the overwhelming thought of Tyler being caught in the middle of it. You could only hope he’d noticed the signs in time to take cover, but with the storm forming so quickly, the chances felt slim.

Just minutes later the van screeched to a halt in front of the motel, and all you could do was stare at the scene before you. The motel looked like a warzone. The roof had caved in on one side, chunks of debris littering the parking lot. A power line was down, sparking dangerously near the edge of the lot. The neon motel sign flickered weakly, barely clinging to life.

Your breath caught when you saw Tyler’s truck. The hood and windshield were buried under a pile of rubble. But it was there.

He’s here.

Without waiting for the others, you threw the door open and bolted out into the night. Boone’s voice called after you, but it was muffled by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Tyler! Tyler!” you shouted, your voice cracking as you scanned the wreckage. You tripped over a piece of broken siding but barely noticed, your eyes darting frantically through the chaos. “Tyler!”

And then, through the haze of rain and debris, you saw movement by the pool. A figure emerged, soaked to the bone and covered in dirt, but unmistakably him.

Tyler.

Your feet moved on instinct, the world around you a blur as you sprinted toward him, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Each step felt impossibly long, the distance between you and him stretching endlessly even as you pushed yourself harder. The rain soaked through your clothes, stinging your skin as debris crunched beneath your feet, but none of it mattered. All you could see was him, standing there, alive.

When you reached him, you didn’t slow down. Your body collided with his, and your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, clinging to him with everything you had. It was as if letting go would make him vanish, as if the storm might take him from you after all.

“Tyler,” you choked out, your voice thick with relief and fear. Your fingers dug into his soaked shirt, gripping it like it was your lifeline.

His arms came around you immediately, strong and steady, pulling you against him with a quiet desperation. You could feel the warmth of his skin beneath the chill of his wet clothes, the solid reassurance of his chest rising and falling with each breath. His hands splayed across your back, holding you tightly, as though he needed the contact as much as you did.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the tremor in it. His breath was warm against your temple as he pressed his cheek to your head, his lips grazing your hair. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m fine. I promise.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face against his neck, the faint scent of rain and dirt clinging to him. “I thought—” Your words caught in your throat, a sob threatening to break free. “I thought I lost you.”

He pulled you even closer, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. “You didn’t,” he said softly, his voice firm and steady now, as if willing you to believe it. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

The strength in his embrace felt like a shield against everything—the storm, the fear, the chaos. In that moment, nothing else existed. It was just you and him, the rest of the world fading into a dull hum.

Finally, you pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still clutching his arms. His green eyes met yours, and you saw a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and something deeper—something unspoken but unmistakable. Rain dripped from his hair, streaking down his face, but he didn’t seem to notice. His focus was entirely on you.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. His hands stayed on you, one at your waist, the other brushing lightly against your shoulder. The air between you felt heavy, charged with emotions too raw to name.

Then a voice broke through the moment. “Kate! Are you okay?” Dani called out, her voice carrying across the rubble.

You turned your head, and your stomach dropped. There, climbing out of the pool behind Tyler, was Kate. She was just as soaked, her hair plastered to her face, and she looked shaken but unharmed. Behind her, a mother and her young daughter emerged as well, both clutching each other tightly.

Your chest tightened. Kate was with him?

You looked back at Tyler, and something flickered in his expression—relief, maybe, or concern. You couldn’t tell.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice quieter now, almost afraid of the answer.

“I’ll explain later,” he said, his tone even but weary. His arms loosened around you, and he took a small step back, his gaze shifting briefly to Kate and the others.

You felt Boone’s hand on your shoulder as he and the others caught up. Dani and Lily rushed to check on Kate and the mother and daughter, their voices buzzing with questions.

But you couldn’t focus on them. Your eyes stayed on Tyler, searching his face for something—an answer, an explanation, anything to quiet the unease now gnawing at you.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING

The morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, a pale glow stretching across the room and nudging you awake. The sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand pulled you the rest of the way from sleep. With a groggy groan, you rolled over and grabbed it, squinting against the brightness of the screen.

It was a text in the group chat, from Tyler.

“Not looking like an active day for storms. You guys take the day off, relax a little. I’ll be back later—gotta go do something.”

You stared at the message, rereading it a couple of times. There were no details, no clues about where he was going or what he needed to do. Just that vague statement—gotta go do something. It was so typically Tyler, giving just enough information to let you know he’d be fine, but not enough to satisfy your curiosity.

A faint pang of unease settled in your chest. After everything that had happened yesterday, you weren’t sure you liked the idea of him heading off on his own, even if the radar was clear. But Tyler wasn’t the type to sit still when something was on his mind.

The group chat pinged again. Boone was the first to respond. “Copy that. Holler if you need backup.”

Dani chimed in next. “What’s the plan for later? We still grilling? Going into town? Let us know!”

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of you wanted to ask Tyler where he was going, but you stopped yourself. If he wanted to tell you, he would have.

Instead, you sent a quick reply. “Okay. Be safe, Tyler.”

The unease didn’t fade as you set your phone back down and stared at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but wonder what it was he needed to do—and why he felt like he had to do it alone.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY

The next afternoon, you still hadn’t heard from Tyler. His silence gnawed at you more than you cared to admit. You told yourself he was fine—that if something had gone wrong, someone would have heard about it by now. But that didn’t stop your mind from replaying yesterday’s text or the way he’d disappeared without a word.

When your phone lit up with his name, your stomach did a little flip. For a second, you hesitated, your thumb hovering over the screen. You wanted to answer. You wanted to hear his voice, to ask him where he’d been and what the hell he’d been doing for the past day and a half. But you didn’t.

With a frustrated sigh, you let the call go to voicemail and tossed your phone onto the bed.

Boone raised an eyebrow from where he was sitting across the room, scrolling through weather models. “Was that Tyler?”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze.

“Why didn’t you pick up?”

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “He disappeared for a day and a half without telling anyone. He can wait a little longer.”

Boone didn’t push it, but the look he gave you said he didn’t quite buy your indifference.

It wasn’t long after that when Lily’s phone started ringing. She glanced at the screen, then at you. “It’s Tyler.”

Your stomach twisted as she answered, putting him on speaker.

“Tyler?” she said.

“Hey, Lil,” came his familiar voice, sounding calm and easy, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “I need your help with something.”

“Where are you?” Lily asked, her tone more concerned than yours had been.

“I’m a few hours away. We’re headed to a trailer dealership outside of town. I’ll send you the address.”

There was a pause as Lily glanced at you, her eyebrows raised. Boone leaned forward, curious.

“What are you doing at a trailer dealership?” Lily asked, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

“I’ll explain when you get here,” Tyler said, his tone giving nothing away. “Can you come?”

Lily sighed and looked to you, Boone, and the others for input. When you didn’t say anything, Boone nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Thanks,” Tyler said, sounding genuinely relieved. “I’ll text you the address.”

When the call ended, Lily turned to you. “So, are we going?”

You hesitated, but only for a moment. As annoyed as you were with him, you couldn’t ignore the slight urgency in his voice—or the curiosity bubbling up inside you.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “Let’s go see what this is about.”

The team pulled into the dealership parking lot, the mid-afternoon sun glaring off the rows of shiny new trailers. Your stomach twisted with a mix of curiosity and apprehension as Boone parked the van.

“Is that… Kate?” Lily said, squinting toward the far side of the lot.

You followed her gaze, and sure enough, there she was—climbing out of Tyler’s truck. Your breath hitched. Tyler was already walking around to meet her, his familiar, easy smile plastered on his face as they exchanged a few words.

Boone let out a low whistle, smirking as he glanced over at you. “Well, well, well. Looks like Kate’s the new partner-in-crime.”

“Relax,” you said quickly, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, really?” Dani chimed in, her tone teasing as she leaned over the seat to get a better look. “Because it kinda seems like it is.”

“Guys, come on,” you muttered, your cheeks flushing despite your best efforts.

“You’re totally jealous,” Boone added with a grin.

“I’m not jealous,” you shot back, maybe a little too quickly. 

Boone and Dani exchanged knowing looks, but you ignored them, crossing your arms as you watched Tyler and Kate make their way over.

When Tyler reached you, his expression softened, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

“Hey,” you replied, your tone guarded as you shoved your hands into your pockets.

“I’m sorry for disappearing yesterday,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly. “I should’ve told you where I was going.”

You shrugged, forcing a small smile. “It’s fine. I wasn’t upset.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering like he didn’t quite believe you. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, looking away. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. Not really. It wasn’t jealousy—not exactly. It was the sting of realizing you didn’t mean as much to him as you thought you did. You’d always assumed the team was more than just a group of storm chasers to Tyler, that you were family. His silence, his absence, had left a hollow ache in your chest that you couldn’t quite shake.

Tyler didn’t press the issue, but the way his lips pressed into a thin line told you he wasn’t entirely convinced.

“So,” Boone said, breaking the tension as he stepped forward, clapping Tyler on the shoulder. “What’s with the trailer dealership?”

A grin spread across Tyler’s face, his previous seriousness melting away.

“Follow me,” he said, motioning for you all to follow him.

As the group trailed behind, you couldn’t help but glance back at Kate. She was chatting with Lily about the drone, her smile bright and easy, and you hated the way it made your chest tighten. Shaking your head, you focused on Tyler, determined not to let your insecurities get the best of you.

The energy in the group shifted after Tyler and Kate’s arrival at the dealership. While everyone seemed excited about the new trailer and the possibilities Kate’s glorified science experiment brought, you couldn’t shake the knot in your chest. The idea of Kate tagging along, so comfortable around Tyler, and his seeming indifference to the team yesterday had left you feeling off-kilter.

You stayed back, letting the others crowd around Tyler and pepper him with questions about Kate’s experiment. You only half-listened, nodding absently when someone directed a comment your way. 

Tyler glanced at you a few times, his eyes narrowing in quiet concern, but you avoided his gaze, pretending to be preoccupied with your phone or the horizon.

The drive back to regroup was tense in your own head. When Boone brought up seating arrangments now that Kate was traveling with the team, you quickly volunteered to ride with Lily in the van.

“Whoa, breaking tradition?” Boone teased as he slid into the driver’s seat. “You always ride with Tyler.”

“I figured she could use some company for once,” you said lightly, keeping your tone casual even as you avoided Dani’s raised brow.

Tyler didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you from across the parking lot as you climbed into the van.

The day unfolded like a blur. The forecast showed a massive storm system moving in, with conditions that could easily spawn tornadoes. There wasn’t much time for idle chatter as everyone scrambled to prep equipment and finalize routes. You busied yourself with anything that kept you moving, anything that didn’t involve standing still long enough for Tyler to corner you with questions.

He tried a couple of times, calling your name softly as you passed, but you brushed him off with hurried excuses. “Sorry, I need to grab this,” or “Let me double-check the radar first.”

Tyler wasn’t one to push, but the way his jaw tightened each time you slipped away told you he noticed.

By the time the team split into vehicles to chase the storm, the air was thick with tension—not just from the impending weather, but from whatever had shifted between you and Tyler.

“You sure you don’t want to switch back?” Boone asked as you climbed into the passenger seat of the van.

“I’m good,” you said, forcing a smile.

From the side mirror, you caught a glimpse of Tyler in his truck. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before he turned his attention back to the road ahead.

The storm loomed dark on the horizon, a swirling mass of gray and green that promised chaos. You focused on the task at hand, pushing everything else to the back of your mind. Whatever conversation Tyler wanted to have would have to wait—assuming he still wanted to have it after today.

The storm had reached its peak intensity, and you were well aware of it. The air was thick with tension, but it wasn’t just from the storm—it was from everything that had been building between you and Tyler over the past days. But that was all drowned out by the noise of the wind, the clattering of debris, and the sound of the storm tearing through the world around you.

The team had done everything they could to guide people to shelter. You were now in the theater with the others, feeling the tremors of the wind pushing against the walls, the heavy sounds of destruction that seemed to grow louder by the second. It was chaos—people crying out, the wailing of the sirens, and the unrelenting storm closing in fast.

You’d just seen Tyler heading toward Kate, and the pang in your chest was sharper than before, but before you could even process it, the ceiling above you gave way. A deafening crash followed by an intense, blinding flash of debris. The next thing you knew, you were on the floor, trapped beneath the wreckage. The weight of it made it hard to breathe, and panic set in as you struggled to move, only to realize you were pinned down.

"Tyler!" you screamed out, his name being the first thing that came to your brain. But you barely heard your own voice over the wind outside was deafening, the sound of the tornado ripping apart everything in its path—closer now, just outside the building. You knew he probably wouldn't hear you.

The world around you felt like it was collapsing, and the reality of it hit hard. This wasn’t a close call. You were in the storm’s path, and you had no idea if you’d make it out. Your chest tightened as you cried, helpless.

You were terrified—scared out of your mind—and the thought that this was how your life would end, trapped here under rubble with nothing you could do, made you feel utterly alone.

Then you felt a hand. His hand. You knew it without having to look. His strong, warm hand took yours, and everything in you instantly calmed just a fraction. 

“Tyler, please—go find something to hold onto!” you managed to shout.

Tyler’s voice, loud but distant, called out to you through the noise, his words a lifeline. “I’m not leaving you.”

The wind howled, tearing through the air with force, and the walls of the theater groaned. But Tyler’s grip never wavered, his hand wrapping tighter around yours, holding you in place. His other hand reached out and wrapped around the metal chair leg next to you, anchoring himself as best as he could to something solid, something that could keep you both from being swept away.

You closed your eyes and tried to steady your breathing. The storm was closing in, its fury pressing down on the entire town, and you knew that at any moment it could sweep through the building and tear you apart.

It was a sickening feeling—waiting, knowing that every second might be your last. But as you lay there, thoughts of what could have been surged inside you. All the things you’d never get to do with Tyler, all the feelings you’d never be able to express if this was truly the end of your life. You saw flashes of what a life together might have looked like: a first date that you’d spent months fantasizing about, a wedding, a family. You’d never even gotten the chance to tell him how you felt.

And then, in the quietest moment, you turned your head toward him. His face was intense, focused, trying to keep you safe. You locked eyes, and you knew—this was your moment, even if it seemed impossible.

“I love you!” you screamed, your voice cracking with emotion.

But the wind was too loud, the storm too ferocious. He couldn’t hear you over the chaos. He glanced back at you, his brow furrowed. “What?” he yelled back, his face a mask of confusion.

You shook your head, frustrated, heart pounding, but there was no use in trying to say it again. The storm was too loud, and you could barely catch your breath.

But at least you said it. Even if it was in the middle of this madness, even if he couldn’t hear you. You said it. And that was enough.

You squeezed his hand harder, letting the feeling of it fill you. You were scared, yes, but you weren’t alone anymore. Tyler was there. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to get you through. Or at least let you die in peace knowing that the one person you loved most was with you when you took your last breath.

The storm passed as suddenly as it had come, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in its wake. The deafening roar of the wind disappeared, and for a moment, the world felt still—too still after everything. You blinked, disoriented, the faint ringing in your ears slowly fading, and then the reality of the situation set in. Boone and Dexter were kneeling beside you, their voices sounding distant at first, then clearer as they checked on you.

"Are you okay?" Boone's voice was sharp, urgent, but also full of concern.

You tried to speak, but your throat was raw. Instead, you muttered Tyler’s name, your breath coming in shallow gasps. His hand—his warmth—was gone. And that instant panic surged again. You reached for where his hand had been, but the space was empty. You looked around, your eyes darting, searching for him.

“T-Tyler. Is he—?” Your heart skipped, the thought barely finished before it threatened to break you. Were you alone again? Had you been abandoned in this moment of chaos?

Boone and Dexter exchanged a quick glance before assuring you, "He’s fine. He’s okay." They both turned their heads to glance at Tyler, who was standing at the front of the theater, his body tense, scanning the room as if looking for something—or someone.

You felt your pulse calm just slightly. He was alive, and that was something. But then, the silence between the men and you stretched long, and your chest tightened again. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the weight of the last few minutes of your life flashing before you.

But as they started to help remove the debris from you, trying to free you from the mess of broken wood and metal, you couldn’t help but watch Tyler.

For a second, you held on to the hope that he’d come over, that he would check on you. You had been through hell together in the last few minutes. You thought, maybe, just maybe, he’d come running to you now, just like he did during the storm. You waited, your body aching, heart racing, trying to ignore the pain as you glanced over at him, your chest tight with anticipation.

But that hope shattered as soon as you saw him climb onto the stage, his attention locked outside, and without a glance in your direction, he bolted for the exit. Your heart dropped like a stone in your chest. He didn’t even hesitate, not even for a second. He and Javi rushed out, their voices barely audible as they called for Kate, their shouts cutting through the stillness.

The silence in the theater felt deafening, and it echoed in your head as your world seemed to spin. In that moment, it hit you like a punch to the gut. Tyler hadn’t even looked back at you before running to her. All the things you thought you had between you, all the moments you’d shared that made you believe you were more than just a passing person in his life… none of it seemed to matter.

Tyler was gone, running after someone else.

Your vision blurred, your knees buckled, and your body felt weightless as everything you’d been holding back came crashing down. A sob broke free from your chest, a sound so raw and painful that it felt like it was tearing you apart. You couldn’t even catch your breath before your legs gave way entirely.

Before you hit the ground, Boone’s arms were there, catching you. “Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” he murmured, his grip strong around your shoulders. But his words were drowned out by the sound of your heart shattering.

It felt like the world had closed in around you, like you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All you could do was fall, over and over again. You wished, for just a moment, that Tyler would have come to you. But it was too late now.

And as Boone gently helped you back up, you couldn’t shake the feeling that a piece of you had just been lost forever.

* * *

The paramedic’s voice was a soft hum in the background, but all you could focus on was the sharp ache in your chest. They had checked your vitals—pulse, blood pressure, everything. You had a slight concussion, they said, but nothing too serious. Some cuts, bruises, and a few scratches, nothing compared to what could have happened. You nodded along with the questions, but your mind was elsewhere, and your gaze kept flickering to the ambulance beside you.

Kate was on the stretcher. Her eyes were closed, and Tyler stood beside her, speaking in a calm tone to the paramedic who was tending to the cut on her head. He was focused on her—his attention so completely on her that it felt like the world around you shrank. Your heart fell, almost as if it were being dragged down into your stomach.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, the ache inside growing stronger with every passing second. The images from the past few days started to replay in your mind. Tyler, always by her side. The way he complimented her ideas, how he seemed to listen to her like he had no other cares in the world. How he just... dropped everything to help her, as if she were the only one who mattered.

And now, even after everything—after the storm, after the danger he’d been in right alongside you—here he was, tending to her. He hadn't even come to check on you.

It felt like the last little thread that had been holding you together snapped.

You looked down at your hands, fingers trembling as you tried to push the thoughts away. Why does it hurt so much? You had no right to feel jealous or upset. Kate was a part of the team now, and Tyler was always protective of everyone.

But something in you felt like it wasn’t just about the tornado. It was about the way he kept gravitating toward her in a way he never did with you.

It wasn’t just the storm anymore. It wasn’t just the crisis. It was... something more. Something you hadn’t wanted to admit. The realization settled like a stone in your chest. You had cared for him, and you still did. More than you’d let yourself believe, more than you could let go of. But he wasn’t looking at you anymore. He wasn’t thinking of you when things got complicated. He was looking at Kate, helping her, being there for her, even now.

A wave of bitterness washed over you, but you couldn’t make yourself leave. You didn’t know if you wanted to be near him or as far away as possible, but all you could do was sit there, watching him talk to her as if nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

Lily’s voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts, her tone gentle but full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?” She’s standing nearby, her arms crossed, her eyes searching your face, sensing the distance in your gaze.

You force a small nod, but it’s not enough to convince anyone, not even yourself. You swallow, trying to push down the tightness in your chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little... tired, I guess.”

Dani, who’s standing with Lily, watches you for a beat before speaking up, her voice a little quieter now. “Are you sure? You’ve been through a lot, you don’t have to push yourself.”

You shake your head again, feeling the weight of everything pressing on you—everything you’d been ignoring. “I think... I think I need a break.” The words slip out before you can stop them. “Maybe it’s time I head home. Take a step back from everything. Sit the next few chases out, you know? Take a few weeks off...maybe longer even.”

Lily exchanges a look with Dani, but they both nod, understanding. It’s not like they hadn’t noticed how distant you’d been, how quiet you’d grown since the storm.

Dani gives your shoulder a light squeeze, trying to offer comfort without pushing too hard. “You do what you need to do,” she says softly. “We’ll hold down the fort here.”

Before you can respond, you hear Tyler’s voice from behind you. You don’t have to turn to know it’s him, the way his footsteps slow as he approaches, the weight of his presence so familiar it almost hurts. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?”

Your chest tightens. You want to look at him, to tell him everything that’s been swirling around inside you since the storm. But all you can do is shake your head. “I’m really tired, Tyler. I think I’m just going to head back to the motel. You should stay with Kate. Make sure she’s okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

His eyes lock onto you, the regret and confusion in them almost enough to make you change your mind. Almost. But you can’t do it. You can’t have that conversation with him now, not when it feels like everything is unraveling at once.

Tyler opens his mouth to say something, but then stops himself. He takes a breath, clearly fighting the urge to press, to make you listen to him. Instead, his shoulders slump slightly, and he nods, his voice quieter now. “Okay... I’ll... I’ll check in on you later.”

You force yourself to look at him, your heart aching as you meet his gaze. There’s so much you want to say, but all that comes out is a soft, “Thanks.”

You turn away before you can see his reaction, before you can see the disappointment or confusion written across his face. You walk toward the back of the ambulance, the air around you feeling heavier with each step. You know this is what you need, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Tyler doesn’t chase you this time. And maybe that’s what hurts the most.

Tyler watches you retreat into the distance, his heart heavy, something gnawing at him that he can’t quite put into words. He exhales sharply, his mind racing, but he tries to push it aside for the moment, turning toward Lily and Dani, who are still standing a few feet away.

“Is she okay?” Tyler asks, trying to mask the tension in his voice, but the question falls flat. His eyes shift between the two of them, but neither of them meet his gaze immediately.

Lily sighs, crossing her arms, her expression a little more intense than usual. "Are you really asking that, Tyler?" she says, her tone laced with a mix of frustration and concern. "You’ve been... oblivious, man. It's clear what’s going on. You’ve been hurting her.”

Dani steps forward, her brow furrowed. "You think she’s just fine? After everything she’s been through, and after all this time? She's been into you, Tyler. It’s obvious, and you’ve been... distant. All week."

Tyler’s chest tightens at her words. His stomach sinks with the realization, as if the weight of it all finally lands on him. He looks away, running a hand through his hair, his thoughts running in circles. Distant? Has he really been that blind? His gaze flickers back to where you’d disappeared, and a heavy sigh escapes him.

He thinks back to the past few days, the way he’d been caught up in whatever this thing with Kate had become—just... busy. He hadn’t meant to pull away from you. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes how often he’d been preoccupied with her, how often his focus had shifted, and how often he’d ignored you in the process.

And then, his mind flashes back to the theater. To you, trapped and terrified, and how his heart had pounded in his chest just being by your side. He had held your hand, clung to it like his life depended on it. And in that moment, he felt like he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He could still feel the warmth of your touch, the way your hand had fit so perfectly in his, like it was always meant to be that way. He had been so focused on getting through the storm, keeping you safe, that he hadn’t heard you when you shouted, but there was something in the way you looked at him before the wind swallowed everything up. 

Something he didn’t catch then... but he swore he saw your lips move. I love you.

His heart stutters at the thought. He’d read your lips. He’d seen it, and yet... he never said anything, never gave you a chance to tell him in a way that could’ve mattered. The weight of it presses down on him now, his mind spinning with the missed opportunity, and the fear of losing you in ways that don’t have anything to do with storms.

The urgency to fix this suddenly takes over. He can’t let you leave like this. Not without trying, not without giving you something—anything to show that he sees you, that he gets it, that he doesn’t want to let you go without telling you what’s been building inside of him.

"I’ve gotta fix this," he mutters to himself, more to his own conscience than to anyone else. 

Lily nods, her expression softening just slightly. “You’d better. She deserves to know how you feel before you let her slip away.”

Tyler doesn’t need any more encouragement. He starts moving toward the ambulance where you’d gone, his heart beating harder now. He won’t let it end like this. He can’t.

You'd said you'd talk to him tomorrow. But tomorrow isn’t soon enough for Tyler.

* * *

BACK AT THE MOTEL

You stand frozen for a moment, the knock on your door taking you by surprise. You weren't expecting him—weren't sure you even wanted him to show up. But when you peer through the peephole and see Tyler standing there, looking almost apologetic, your chest tightens. The emotions from the past few days swirl around you—hurt, confusion, and a trace of something else you didn’t want to acknowledge: hope.

You stand there for a beat, considering what to do. Should you let him in? You feel a little too vulnerable, too exposed. But then you hear his voice through the door, low and sincere.

“Please, just give me a chance to explain, darlin’.”

Your heart stirs, but your frustration, the pain of feeling ignored, holds you back. You sigh and open the door, mentally preparing yourself to face him.

“Tyler—” you start, your voice tinged with everything you’ve been holding in, but he cuts you off before you can say anything more.

Without warning, he reaches up, his hand gentle but firm as it cups your face. Your breath catches in your throat as his lips meet yours in a kiss that catches you completely off guard. It’s soft at first, hesitant, as if he’s testing the waters, but then, as if something inside of him snaps when you don't pull away, it deepens, becoming urgent, almost desperate.

Before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you into the room, walking you backward as the door falls shut with a soft thud behind him. The kiss never breaks, and the moment is so intense, so full of emotion, that it takes every bit of your willpower not to melt into him entirely. His hands slide down your back, pressing you closer to him, while your own hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as if you need to anchor yourself.

Tyler pulls away just slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His breath is ragged, his eyes searching yours, full of regret and something more.

“I'm sorry,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been so stupid, so blind to how much I’ve hurt you. But I need you to know... I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You mean more to me than anything else, and I can’t let you leave thinking otherwise.”

You feel his lips brush against your jaw, trailing soft, warm kisses down your neck. Your breath hitches at the sensation, your heart pounding in your chest. The intensity of it all swirls inside of you—the confusion, the hurt, the aching desire to believe him. But there’s a part of you still hesitant, still unsure.

“Tyler…” you breathe, trying to pull back just enough to make eye contact, but he kisses your neck, whispering apologies and promises against your skin. “You’ve hurt me. All week… you’ve been…. I thought—”

“I know,” he interrupts, his lips finding the curve of your shoulder. “I know I hurt you, and I never meant to. I’ve been an idiot, and I’m asking for a second chance. A real chance to prove to you how much you mean to me.”

The raw sincerity in his voice, the way his hands hold you as if he’s terrified you’ll slip away, makes your heart flutter despite the ache in your chest. He’s here. Right now, he’s here, trying to make things right.

“I’ve been a fool,” he says softly, his lips brushing against your skin once more. “But I can’t lose you. Please, forgive me. Let me make it right.”

You close your eyes for a moment, letting his words wash over you, feeling the weight of everything between you two in that single breath. You want to believe him. You want to feel what he’s offering, but the fear of getting hurt again lingers.

But in that moment, with him so close, his presence surrounding you, your heart softens just enough to let him in. Your hands slide to the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss—one that’s slow and full of unspoken understanding.

The moment Tyler pulls back just enough to speak, you catch your breath, eyes locked with his as your heart races. His arm slips around your back, pulling you in even closer, his touch possessive but gentle. You feel the heat of his body against yours, the tension between you palpable.

“Jump,” he says, his voice low, urgent.

You hesitate for a brief second, the heat of the moment overwhelming you, but you do as he asks. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hold on to him tightly. In one fluid motion, he lifts you effortlessly, his grip firm and confident, one hand on your back while the other moves down to your ass, helping to steady you. The way he holds you makes you feel small, protected, and undeniably wanted, and it makes your chest tighten with a mix of desire and something softer, something more vulnerable.

With ease, he carries you across the room, his steps steady as he approaches the bed. As he lays you down gently, you catch your breath again, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room. The weight of everything—the past few days, the uncertainty, the rawness of the moment—it all lingers in the air between you.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, but you don’t look away. “I’m still mad at you,” you say quietly, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach.

Tyler’s gaze softens, and for a second, he doesn’t speak, just studies you with that same intensity that’s been there all along. “I know,” he says, his voice low, sincere.

Before you can respond, he leans back in, his lips capturing yours once again. This time, the kiss is different. It’s not just apologetic or desperate. It’s full of promises—unspoken words, a connection you’ve both been fighting to acknowledge. His lips are warm against yours, and you melt into it, losing yourself in the sensation, the depth of the emotion between you.

His hand moves to your face, brushing back a strand of hair as he deepens the kiss, each movement slow and deliberate. You can feel the weight of everything that’s been left unsaid pressing between you, but in this moment, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the now, the feeling of his body against yours, the way his hands move with intention, as if he’s trying to make up for everything he’s missed.

As the kiss deepens, Tyler’s hands begin to move with purpose, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers slide down your sides, brushing against the soft fabric of your t-shirt. You can feel the heat radiating off of him as his lips leave yours, trailing down to your jaw, then your neck, each kiss a quiet declaration.

His hands grip the bottom of your shirt, tugging it gently as his lips continue their descent, kissing along your collarbone, and then lower, just above your stomach. You can’t help but gasp softly at the sensation, your breath hitching as his lips move slowly, deliberately, pressing light kisses between the curve of your breasts.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, his voice a low murmur, the words vibrating against your body like a promise. “God, you’re perfect.”

He pushes the fabric higher, inch by inch, his lips following the trail as if memorizing every inch of you. Your skin tingles under the heat of his kisses, and you feel the overwhelming pull of desire tighten in your chest. He moves with a careful, almost reverent pace, as though he’s savoring this moment with you, drawing it out.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he breathes against your skin, his hands now lifting your shirt higher, his eyes drinking in every curve, every movement of your body as he works it over your head, leaving you bare under his touch.

His lips trail upward, kissing you again—softer this time, but with just as much intensity as before. You feel his warmth, his presence, his need in every touch, every whispered word. His hands move gently over your body, as if reminding you that you’re not just wanted, you’re wanted deeply.

“Every inch of you is perfect,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice filled with the raw sincerity you’ve longed to hear.

You start to undo the buttons on Tyler’s flannel, your fingers brushing against his chest with each movement. His skin feels warm, a contrast to the cold air around you, but you’re too focused on him to notice anything else. His breath hitches slightly when you reach the last button, and he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes as you move your hands to tug it off his shoulders.

The moment the shirt falls to the floor, you reach for the white tank top underneath, eager to see more of him. Tyler leans back slightly, his lips curling into a smirk that melts away any hesitation you might have had. With a smooth motion, he lifts it over his head, revealing his bare torso to you. 

Your eyes immediately follow the muscles that line his chest and stomach, the way his abs ripple slightly with every breath, and the trail of dark hair leading downward.

You reach out without thinking, your fingers brushing over the dusting of hair on his chest. The connection feels electric, and you can’t help but marvel at the feel of him—his warmth, his strength, everything about him drawing you in. Your hands trail down, and you can feel the pulse in your fingertips as they brush the waistband of his jeans. Without hesitation, you reach for his belt, your fingers working quickly to undo it, your heart pounding louder with every moment.

Tyler’s eyes lock onto yours, and he watches you with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. “You’re killing me, you know that, sweetheart?” he mutters, voice rough with desire.

His hands are at his sides, waiting, the energy between you both crackling with anticipation. The space between you both feels charged, and you can sense he’s just as eager to see where this moment takes you as you are.

You continue your movements, unbuckling his belt, slowly but steadily, until it’s free. The moment is slow, deliberate—your body aching to feel his against yours.

Tyler’s hands are gentle as he reaches for you again, his fingers brushing against your skin with an almost reverent touch. There’s no rush in the way he moves, only a quiet assurance that makes your heart race. His eyes lock with yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, but you only find warmth and something deeper—something that has been growing between you for days, for weeks, maybe even longer.

He slowly unclasps your bra, his touch light but firm, as if he’s giving you space to decide, to feel comfortable in this moment. As it slides off, you feel exposed, but not in a way that makes you want to retreat. Instead, you feel seen, truly seen, for the first time in a long while. Tyler’s gaze never wavers from yours as he guides your jeans down, his hands steady, but there’s a softness in them that matches the way his eyes soften when they meet yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with something raw, something unspoken. His words hang in the air between you, and you find your breath catching in your throat. It’s not just the physicality of the moment that feels intimate, but the sincerity behind his words.

As he slides your jeans off, he pauses, his hands resting lightly on your bare skin. He lets out a soft sigh, not in impatience, but in awe of how everything feels so right.

When you’re left in nothing but your panties, Tyler takes a step back for a moment. He looks at you as though trying to commit every detail to memory, but there’s no judgment in his eyes, only admiration and something more—something tender that makes your heart flutter.

And when you look at him, really look at him, you see more than just the strong, muscular form in front of you. You see the man who’s been there for you, the one who makes you feel safe, cherished, and—maybe for the first time in a long while—truly desired.

Tyler’s fingers brush your cheek gently as he kneels in front of you. “You don’t have to rush this,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with understanding. “We take it one step at a time. Only if you’re ready.”

You take a breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. There’s no more hesitation, no more uncertainty—just a quiet, steady confidence that you feel in your bones. As you look into Tyler’s eyes, the connection between you feels stronger than ever, a bond forged through everything you’ve been through together.

“I want you, Tyler,” you say, your voice steady, even though your heart is pounding in your chest.

A smile spreads across his face, tender and genuine. His eyes soften, and for a split second, you see something vulnerable there—a rawness that only you’ve seen. Without a word, he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, a kiss that says everything you need to hear. He pulls back just slightly, his hand cupping your cheek.

Tyler takes a step back to finish undressing the rest of the way. His movements are deliberate but unhurried, as though savoring the moment. You watch him, your heart racing, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts, but in this moment, all that matters is him—his closeness, the way his presence fills the space between you.

He stands before you, bare and vulnerable, just like you, and there’s no shame, no fear. There’s just you and him, together in this quiet intimacy, and it feels like everything has finally clicked into place.

Tyler moves back to you, his hands gentle as he reaches for you once more. He pulls you closer, his body flush against yours, and the world outside seems to disappear, leaving only the two of you in this moment.

"I don't have a condom, sweetheart."

"I'm clean. And as long as you are, I don't mind. I'm on birth control."

"I'm clean, sweetheart."

As Tyler slowly moves closer, you feel the intensity between you, the emotions that are thick in the air. Everything about this moment feels different, more profound than anything you’ve experienced before.

When he finally slides inside of you, it’s not just physical—it’s as if everything aligns. The way his eyes never leave yours, the way he holds you with such tenderness, like he’s memorizing every curve of your body, every breath you take.

It feels like he’s giving you a piece of him—his vulnerability, his trust, his love. The connection between you two isn’t just about the act, but about something deeper, something you both crave. This is more than just sex. It’s making love, it’s the two of you sharing something raw, unspoken, and powerful.

The slow, deliberate rhythm between you two feels like it’s meant to last forever. His hands are gentle but firm, guiding you closer to him, pulling you into him with such care that it takes your breath away. Every movement, every soft kiss, every whisper in your ear—it’s all full of love. It’s like he’s telling you, without words, that he’s here, he’s not going anywhere, and that he wants you in every way possible.

You meet his gaze, your eyes locked, and you see everything in them. Desire. Affection. A deep, undeniable connection that’s been building between you for so long. When he looks at you like this, you feel seen. You feel cherished, loved, and completely accepted for who you are.

His lips brush against your forehead, soft and tender, as if to reassure you, and you lean into him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him closer. You let yourself surrender to him, to the love he’s offering. It’s the most vulnerable, intimate thing you’ve ever done, and you can’t help but feel completely safe in his arms.

You know, in this moment, that nothing else matters but the two of you. And for once, you feel like you belong—fully, entirely—right here, with him.

As you and Tyler lay there in the aftermath, the room feels still, the air thick with the emotions that linger between you. You both lay in the warmth of each other’s arms, your bodies entwined under the sheets. He holds you close, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back, and you feel the rise and fall of his breath like a soothing rhythm, grounding you.

Tyler presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering there as he wraps his arm around you more tightly. 

His voice is low, tender, almost like a whisper, as he speaks, “I love you.” 

The words feel like a promise, like they’ve been waiting to be spoken for so long, and now they’re finally free.

You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze as you settle into the comfort of his embrace. His eyes are full of vulnerability, and you can feel the rawness of everything he’s just shared with you. 

He continues, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve been so caught up in helping Kate and trying to figure out this theory and experiment with her... but I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped wanting you.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his honesty settle in your chest. “I didn’t know where I stood with you.” You admit in a whisper. “The way you’ve been spending so much time with her... I just couldn’t help but feel like I was losing you.”

Tyler gently tilts your chin up with his finger, guiding your face toward his as he presses a tender kiss to your lips, slow and full of reassurance. “You haven’t lost me,” he says, his voice thick with sincerity. “I've always been yours. You’re the only one I want, the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

A rush of warmth floods through you at his words, and you close your eyes, letting the vulnerability between you both fill the space. You nestle into him, your head resting on his chest. His hand moves gently through your hair as he continues, “I know I messed up, and I’m sorry. I should have been more open with you. You mean everything to me. Do you think you could ever give me a chance?”

Tears well up in your eyes as you hear him speak so honestly. You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear those words, how much you needed him to understand how deeply you cared.

You bury your face in his chest, your hands clutching his arm as you whisper back, “Don't mess it up, Tyler. Because I love you, Tyler. I really do...and I don't think I'd survive if you broke my heart.”

He squeezes you tighter, his arms enveloping you with a warmth that makes everything else feel small. “I love you too,” he whispers back, his voice rough with emotion. "And believe me, I've got no intentions of breaking your heart...just maybe changing your last name."

As you begin to drift off, the quiet hum of the room and the steady beat of Tyler’s heart fill the space between you. But then, he breaks the silence, his voice soft and warm as he speaks. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. You look up, meeting his gaze, and he’s studying you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. “Would you… would you let me take you on a date?”

You smile at the thought, the idea of spending time with him in a peaceful setting, away from the chaos of the past few days, feeling comforting. 

“Somewhere nice and quiet,” he adds, as though reading your mind, his voice hopeful.

You nod, your heart fluttering at the thought of a simple, intimate evening with him. “I’d like that,” you reply, your voice soft but sure.

Tyler smiles in return, but then, his eyes fall to your face, his gaze focusing on the cut on your head that’s barely visible against your hair. His thumb gently brushes over it, a soft, tender motion. 

“What about this?” he asks quietly. “Are you okay?”

You meet his eyes again, and though the pain is there, it’s not overwhelming. You nod, brushing off the worry. “I’m a little sore, but I’ll be okay,” you assure him, reaching up to touch the place where he’d just brushed.

But Tyler doesn’t look convinced. He gently presses his hand against your cheek, his thumb still gently tracing the curve of your jaw. His voice drops a little, and you can hear the raw vulnerability in it. 

“I was so scared,” he admits, his words softer now, almost a confession. “I was so scared I was going to lose you. I’ve never been more scared in my life.”

The weight of his words hits you like a wave, and your breath catches in your throat. You can see the fear in his eyes, the way he holds you like you’re something fragile, something he never wants to let go of.

“I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if something happened to you,” he continues, his voice cracking slightly.

Your heart swells at his vulnerability, and you reach up to cup his face, your thumb grazing his cheek. “I’m right here,” you whisper, your voice firm yet filled with tenderness. "I'm okay."

Tyler closes his eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply, and you can feel the tension leave his body as he holds you a little tighter, like he’s trying to keep you as close as possible. “I don’t ever want to feel that way again,” he admits, his voice low, sincere. “I need you to know… you’re everything to me.”

You nod, your eyes welling up with emotion, and you lean up to press your lips to his, a soft kiss full of reassurance and affection. When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your breath mingling. “I love you, Tyler,” you say again, just to remind him, just to make sure he knows.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice full of conviction. “I’ll keep reminding you every day for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes.”

You smile at that, feeling the sincerity in his words wash over you. The world outside may still be chaotic, but in this moment, with him holding you close, everything feels right. And spending the rest of your life with Tyler Owens doesn't sound too bad.

[genderless-naper]

collections

trafalgar law x crewmate!reader

theme: a bit of fluff. no mention of relationship, feelings, kissing, etc.

being talked over during conversations made you no longer willing to converse with the crew. law decides to step in to make you feel less alone

sfw, wc: 2.6k, lowercase intended!

the crew was livelier than usual. with all tasks for the day completed, conversations filled the air as everyone shared quality time together. many recounted recent ordeals, and the sounds of laughter, complaints, and heated debates echoed throughout the submarine.

you tried to join in on the active conversation. you were eager to share the new hobby you had picked up, and you couldn’t keep yourself from wanting to tell your loved ones.

although your desire to share was strong; everytime you tried to speak up your words hung in the air without response, and your crew mate continued their commotion. it seemed as though your words vanished into the noise. the lack of response made you feel a bit of an outcast within the group. although this topic was meant to be a way to connect your friends with your personal life you figured there will always be another chance to speak of it. so for now, you let everyone to continue their conversations as you listened.

ikkaku is the first to notice your hushed state. it wasnt something she was concerned about, and instead just wanted you to talk like everyone else.

“do you have anything you want to share about your day y/n?”

feeling enthusiastic you took this as your chance to talk about your beloved newfound hobby. it seemed a bit silly saying it out loud, but made you happy. it should be worth the mention.

“i’ve starting doing something new whenever we visit new islands with towns. i’ll start to-“

you were quickly interrupted with shachi’s sudden outburst, “penguin is such a liar!!”

penguin gasps dramatically. their commotion drew the small amount of attention your conversation was getting. penguin and shachi start to wrestle over a disagreement. all the members laugh while some even made bets on who would win. that is all the members but you.

you stared blankly. you knew your friends weren’t purposefully trying to talk over you. still you couldn’t push the feeling of being ignored away much longer. you stood up and slipped away unnoticed while the group was busy with their activities.

you walked to the girls cabin to find a space to yourself where you wont be feeling ignored. at that moment actually being alone felt much better than feeling lonely in a room full of people.

you laid down and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes until you heard an unexpected knocking. a muffled ‘can i come in?’ was heard from the other side of the door.

before you could respond the door had opened and your captain entered the room. his tall figure and poker face made its way over to you. you sat up confused as to what your captain could need from you.

law invited himself to sit down in the empty space next to you, “tell me about.”

you raised your brow. was there a specific report you were forgot to tell him? you searched through your mind for all the possibilities he could be referring to.

law cleared his throat to pull you out your own mind and regain your attention, “tell me about that thing you do with new islands”

you were astonished that your captain was actually paying attention to you. you figured that at the end of the day he is an observer.

he spoke again, “you looked like you wanted to talk about it, but everyone kept speaking over you.”

embarrassment crept upon you, “it’s fine really. i didn’t mind. it was a stupid topic anyways, so it would’ve bored them out.”

“it won’t bore me. i know you want to speak about it, so hurry up” the dark-haired man’s way of reassuring you made it feel like he was rushing you instead. you couldn’t refuse him, as he sat in front of you, waiting to be told as if you were keeping some infamous secret from him. you knew any attempt to refuse would be dismissed immediately by law. but deep down, you find his gesture meaningful. it was his way of saying ‘i see you’.

“you know you don’t have to do all this just because you feel bad captain.”

he knew his earlier phrasing wasn’t sitting quite well, so he added onto it, “it’s not that i feel bad, i just want to know about my crew, so tell me because i’ll listen to you.”

you could no longer protest against him. you make your way to grab a small box then returning to your seat, “you have to promise not to laugh.”

curiosity sparked within law, “whats in this box that could be so laugh-worthy? or are you just being dramatic?”

you rolled your eyes, “i’m not being dramatic. im just saying you can’t laugh jeez..”

law takes the box from you. if he left the unboxing to you, it would take hours for you to gather the courage to remove the top. with one swift motion, law unveiled what the box kept safe— what exactly it was that you wanted to share so badly with the crew.

the inside of the box contained an assortment of pens. all different shapes and colors. law was truly left speechless, “pens..?”

you grabbed the box back from him, “you said you wouldn’t laugh!”

law cleared his throat again, and fixed his expression to its stoic state, “i’m not laughing. i just wasnt expecting that. do you collect these pens across the islands?”

you nod as you look away. you couldn’t help yourself feeling a bit mortified. telling friends is one thing, but telling your captain makes you feel less strong-willed in his mind. you couldn’t help but wonder how embarrassed he must be, thinking about his crew mate being strange enough to collect a specific writing utensil.

suddenly his voice draws you out of your conscious, “which one is your favorite?”

“my favorite? it would have to be this blue one.” you pull out a glass pen that’s been dyed a shade of dark blue. it was heavy in weight, but wrote the smoothest lines when dipped in ink.

from here you start talking about the differences between the pens, their pros and cons, which island you got them from, demonstrating their writing on paper, and much more until you were certain you had bore law out. instead the tattooed man seemed just as interested as you were. he was learning about an item he never gave much thought to.

“you’re not weirded out by this..?”

law shook his head, “why would i be weirded out? you’re just like me.”

“how am i just like you?”

law smirked and lifted his hand to create his blue room bubble around you both, “i’ll show you. room, shambles.”

suddenly you find yourself in laws room. the crew’s laughter still echoed throughout the submarine. law pulls put a box , and pulls its lid off to reveal it’s contents to you.

“coins..?” you tilted your head, looking at the box

“i collect coins from different islands. don’t look at it like that when you do the same thing.”

you take the box, “just because i do the same thing doesn’t mean it’s not gonna be weird.”

law chuckled, “collecting pens is more weird than coins.”

you fired back a warning stare, “at least pens are useful. i can write with all of them.”

“so what? i can spend all of these.”

“captain, you can only spend it if you go back to these islands.”

the two of you went back and fourth, debating which item to collect was the best. as the night went on you both shares stories of certain items in your collections. you proceed to match the closest-looking pens to the closest-looking coin.

being able to to share such personal interests with each other made you both realize you are a lot more alike than you though.

at the end of the night law asks for your hand.

“what’d do you need it for?” you hold your hand out to him. law proceeds to place a gorgeous gold coin designed by fine detailing.

law spoke up, “i want you to keep it. take good care of it and keep it with your pens” a slight smile tugged at his lips.

you giggled, “is it meant to bring me prosperity?”

“hopefully. you’ll need it to buy more pens”

you roll his eyes at his remark. you look through your collection again and pull out a black pen decorated with small hearts. you have it to the tattooed man, “keep it. it suits you captain.”

law observed the pen with a smile. he continued to use that pen whenever he wrote important notes. he kept it with him at all times to remind himself that he isn’t so alone, and there are other nerds who collect things just like him.

on the other hand you were reminded of him every time you opened your wallet to pay. the gold coin shimmering was almost as bright as both of your faces sharing your hobbies with one another.

masterlist

[lacunasbalustrade]

it gave me a little bit of an ick to hear this at first because as a woman who's often only offered help in a manipulative way, my instinctual reaction as Cinderella to hearing: he doesn't love me, he married me to save me, would be HE DESERVES TO BE HAPPY. and I??? I am not making him happy? Curses upon me. I will try to escape from this situation at once. It's all because I looked helpless, that's why I burdened him by feeling that he needs to save me.

and then ...wait a minute. He's PITYING ME? This rich boy? When I have been suffering my stepmother and stepsisters? When I can do the chores? I bet this rich boy has never experienced suffering like I do nor bore it so well! What gives him the right to pity me? I'm amazing!

and then imagining that growing and maturing into 'yes, he was self-righteous and self centered enough to send out guards through an entire kingdom looking for a girl to fit a shoe to, but he's also self-righteous enough to look at me and appreciate the things about me that I never allowed myself to appreciate in favour of being humble and meek'. into 'yes, he's pitying me, but in the way that he wants to share what he has with me like a boy feeds crumbs to a bird'.

into silences together, hands folded, arms crossed, after the first argument they've dared to share, because isn't there always the fear that if Cinderella messes up, everything will be taken away from her? It's the 12 midnight strike. The way she takes out her gown and tries to go to the ball only to have it ripped from her. but now the prince is just sitting with her and the pause is pregnant after the storm of feelings but nothing changes.

there's no sudden flurry of magic disintegrating. of tearing bonds exemplified by ripping fabric. no harsh words, no cruel rushing, just the prince sighing and saying tiredly, 'let's go to bed'.

it's Cinderella realizing that maybe peace tastes like this, a constant battle. It's the prince seeing that patience isn't enough, it's giving her the respect and trust you would afford an equal.

i was gonna write it acutally but thought about writing the first sentence and the tiredlseepy got me so here's the concept

a conversation between cinderella and the prince after they're married. when she discovers he does not love her. he saw and recognised she needed rescuing, then played up the false 'love' angle to get the king to agree to it. cinderella does not love the prince either. but it would be an interesting convo. ending with them understanding one another rather more tyhan before. yearning for that which cannot be. &c. does anyone want to read it or

[miley1442111]

videos and violence- a.hotchner

summary: an unsub capturing you makes for a pretty interesting love confession

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: mention of reader being hurt, violence, mental, physical, emotional abuse, regular criminal minds topics (i think that's it? PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

not entirely proofread

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You knew you had to take in your surroundings, try to remember what had happened before, think. 

All you knew was that one moment, you were on your way home from work, and the next you had a bruising grip on the back of your head, leading you through the hallways of this dusty, dark, shithole. 

Suddenly, he stopped. He was a man, obviously, 5’7ish, buff build, dark clothing that doesn’t fit him correctly, strong, shoes a size too big, and a balaclava. “Get in there, bitch.” American accent, deep voice, but definitely grew up in Washington. There was a chance you were still in Washington.

He shoved you down the stairs, into a basement. When you came to, your head was bleeding and you’d definitely broken a few ribs. You just hoped that Aaron would find you. You tended to your wound as best you could and allowed yourself to rest, knowing more would be to come. You had to figure out why he wanted you. Was it because he knew you worked for the FBI, or were you just the closest woman to him? 

The ground was cold and hard, but it would do for one night. You hoped this would be one night. You hoped the team could solve it. 

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“Where’s Agent Y/l/n?” Morgan asked, sitting beside Spencer in the briefing room. 

“Late,” Rossi grunted. 

“She’s never late,” Penelope argued. “She’s never been late a day in her life and she didn’t answer any of my phone calls this morning.”

Aaron Hotchner, your secure, steady, collected, and calm boss, began to sweat a little. The same thing had happened to him, you weren’t answering his calls, there was no ‘I got home safe’ text, and you didn’t answer your door when he knocked on it that morning. 

“I’m sure she’s just sick,” Rossi shot back, trying to put Penelope at ease. “She’s a big girl, you don’t need to baby her.” 

Aaron didn’t miss the way Rossi looked at him during that last part. He wasn’t babying you, he’d never do that. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, make sure he got to see that beautiful smile everyday. 

“We have a case,” Aaron announced. “Right here in Washington.”

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No matter how loud you screamed, he didn’t stop. He kept hitting, and punching, and hurting. By the time you walked back down to your basement, you were exhausted, bruised, and scared. You were slightly losing hope that Aaron and the team were going to find you, because he was ramping up his activity. He was more violent, more attentive to you, watched you more, got closer, stayed closer. And he wasn’t feeding you. He had no intention of keeping you alive. But he was filming you. You’d noticed the hundreds of cameras all over the room, all pointing to you. 

“What do you do for work?” he asked from the darkness of the top of the stairs. 

“Paperwork,” you lied. “FBI paperwork.”

“You work for the Federal Bureau of Investigations?” he asked.

You nodded. “It’s boring.”

“How much do you make?” 

“About 90 grand a year,” you offered. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a baker,” he answered. “I work in the cafe on 14th street.”

“I like that place,” you chuckled painfully. “Makes good bread. My boyfriend loves it.”

“You have a boyfriend?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but he’s out of state at the minute. Work stuff,” you lied. “What about you?”

“A girlfriend? No, no,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands together. It’s like he watched a movie to find out how to be a villain, I mean, come on. “No one for me.”

“What’s your boyfriend's name?” he asked. 

Well, now or never. “Aaron Hotch,” you answered calmly. 

“And what is it that you love about Aaron?”

You could feel yourself tearing up, you knew he was about to take you for another torture session, and you didn’t know if it would be your last. There was a slim chance Aaron would see this, if he ever caught the guy. Now or never. “I love Aaron because he makes me feel safe. He smiles at me all the time which is nice because he doesn’t smile often. He knows everything about me, and he’s still here. He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met, even though he puts on a brave face everyday. He cares deeply about the people around him, and he tries to hide the way he worries about people, but he can’t. He just cares too much. He’s wonderful, if I’m being honest. He always brings me home stuff from your bakery, the one on 14 the street, it’s our favourite date night tradition.” 

“Good, very good. I know exactly who you’re talking about,” he smirked. “I’ll make sure he gets this, and the videos of the torture.”

You grimaced. 

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“He takes women of all races, hair colours, eye colour, etc. He doesn’t keep them for more than three days, he videos the torture and sends it to us. He’s had three women so far-” Morgan thought out loud. 

“A new video just came in Hotch,” Penelope burst into the room, tears in her eyes. “I-It’s-”

“No!” Morgan and Spencer both jumped up, disbelief coating their features. Aaron stayed still, a wash of rage and terror rolling over him. You’d been gone for two days, they had one more to find you. 

“Give me the laptop, the rest of you don’t need to see this,” he ordered, taking the laptop out of her hands as she ran straight to Morgan for comfort. Rossi stopped him before he left. 

“You sure you want to see this? We all know how you feel about her,” Rossi whispered, silently offering himself to watch the videos. 

“I have to find her,” Aaron whispered, his voice breaking. “I need every angle I can get.”

Rossi nodded, allowing him on his way.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You’d survived another day, but the broken bones and bruises were starting to ache more and more. He’d gone to work, and you had 8 hours to try and get out, but the cameras. You just hoped he’d gotten cocky and sent it to the FBI before you were dead. It was your only chance. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“We have a lead,” Aaron announced, rushing to put his coat on. “The bakery, on 14th, that’s where he works.”

“Let’s move out people!” Morgan shouting, rallying the cops to follow the team. 

The video of you, broken, bruised, and battered made him feel physically sick. The way you spoke about him made his heart burst, the way you gave him the message gave him hope. He could still find you. 

The car ride felt long, too long; and getting the dick to confess felt too long too. Searching the building felt too long, and getting you into his arms felt too long. 

But when he rounded a corner and went down a set of stairs, there you were. Right in front of him. Lying in a heap on the floor. He rushed to your side. “Please, please,” he begged. “Open your eyes for me baby,” he pleaded as he looked for a pulse, it was faint but there. “Ambulance, now!” he shouted up at the officers who were following him. “Come on, open your eyes for me,” he whispered. 

Somehow his shaking and his words woke you up. You stared at him for a moment, confused and scared, and then it registered. He’d found you. The video had worked. 

“Aaron,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “You found me.” 

He nodded, a relieved smile on his face. “I’ll always find you,” he promised. “And I’ll never let this happen again.”

“You saw the video?” you asked, pulling yourself into his arms. 

“I saw the video sweetheart,” he nodded. “I know.”

“I love you,” you whispered as he hooked a hand under your legs and another under your back. 

“I love you too, more than anything,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[theonottsbxtch]

SPORTS CAR | OP81

an: so far for the last t8 songs ive given them to lando, time to give our boy oscar some love. i cant promise im back for good, its exam season at the school im working at so busy busy busy but anyway enjoy this op81 piece

wc: 4k

THE GALA WAS THE SORT OF EVENT where champagne flowed endlessly, and the air was thick with the weight of old money. Oscar, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, leaned casually against the bar, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The soft strains of classical music filled the grand hall, but his attention wasn’t on the string quartet or the ridiculously expensive artwork on the walls. It was on her.

She glided through the crowd as though she owned the place—because, in a way, she did. Her gown, a shimmering cascade of silver, caught the light with every deliberate step she took, and her smile was just shy of predatory. She was the kind of woman who never had to hear the word “no,” a little princess who always got exactly what she wanted. And tonight, it was clear that what she wanted was him.

Oscar swirled the amber liquid in his glass, suppressing the smirk threatening to spread across his face. He recognised that look—had seen it on her at least twice tonight when their gazes met from across the room. It was bold, unrelenting, and entirely unapologetic. She didn’t just want him; she wanted to make sure he knew it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Her voice broke through the small space between them as she appeared beside him at the bar. Her perfume—a heady mix of jasmine and something darker—wrapped around him as she leaned in, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin.

Oscar glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “As much as one can at an event like this.”

She laughed softly, the sound smooth and syrupy. “A man with all the toys in the world, bored at a gala? I thought you’d be used to this sort of thing by now.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it,” he replied, setting his glass down and turning to face her fully. His dark eyes flicked to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. “What about you? Enjoying holding court?”

Her smile widened, a little wicked now. “The only fun I’m planning on having tonight isn’t going to be on the dance floor.” She tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping lower, meant only for him. “You brought one of your cars, didn’t you?”

Oscar’s smirk finally broke through. “I might’ve. Why?”

She stepped closer, her hand brushing the lapel of his tuxedo, and tilted her head as though her question was entirely innocent. “Because I’ve always wondered what the fuss is about. The leather seats, the thrill of it all... You should show me.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, leaning in just enough for her breath to catch. “You think you can handle that, princess?”

Her eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and challenge. “Why don’t you take me for a spin and find out?”

Oscar shook his head, a low chuckle escaping him as he leaned back slightly. “Your dad would kill me,” he said, his tone light but edged with something darker.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. “He doesn’t need to find out,” she murmured, her voice smooth as silk.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully. She was bold—too bold for her own good—and she knew it. “You’re not exactly the subtle type,” he pointed out, his tone laced with amusement.

She shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Subtlety is overrated. Besides, you’re clever. You’d figure something out.” She stepped closer, her fingers grazing the cuff of his sleeve, feather-light. “Unless you’re scared, of course.”

He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Scared? Of you?” His gaze flicked down to her hand before returning to her eyes, dark and steady. “You don’t scare me, princess.”

“Good,” she said simply, her voice soft but laced with that same unshakable confidence. “Because I’m not leaving here tonight without what I want.”

Her words hung in the air between them, the weight of her challenge impossible to ignore. Oscar let the silence stretch for a moment, his eyes locked on hers, weighing up the consequences. He could already feel the heat of her expectation, the daring glint in her gaze that made it clear she wasn’t bluffing.

Finally, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Her smile widened, shamelessly triumphant. “Always.”

He exhaled, shaking his head again as though he were trying to convince himself he wasn’t about to make a very stupid decision. But the way she was looking at him—like he was a prize she’d already claimed—made it impossible to resist.

“Fine,” he said at last, his voice a low rumble. “Meet me out front in five minutes. Don’t make me regret this.”

She didn’t respond, only grinned as she stepped back, smoothing the skirt of her gown as if nothing had happened. “You won’t,” she said, her tone light and breezy, as if they weren’t on the brink of scandal.

With one last look over her shoulder, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Oscar standing there, shaking his head and wondering just how far he was about to let this go.

The air outside the gala was cool, the faint hum of engines and distant chatter filling the night. She stood near the grand entrance, the shimmer of her gown catching the soft glow of the streetlights. A few partygoers lingered around her, but she didn’t pay them any attention. Her focus was on the sleek McLaren pulling up to the curb, its low, aggressive stance impossible to ignore.

Oscar was behind the wheel of the dark grey 765LT Spider, its polished finish gleaming like liquid metal under the lights. The car exuded power and precision, its growl unmistakable even in neutral. As the passenger door lifted upwards, Oscar leaned over slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and steady.

She didn’t hesitate, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she slid into the seat. The leather interior cocooned her, the faint smell of luxury and petrol filling her senses. With the door closing seamlessly behind her, Oscar revved the engine once before pulling away from the gala, leaving the murmurs of curious onlookers behind.

The streets of Monaco unfurled ahead of them, glittering like a dream. The McLaren hugged the curves effortlessly as Oscar navigated the winding roads, the sound of the engine echoing off the buildings and cliffs. The city lights reflected in the water, casting a golden hue over everything, and the occasional roar of other supercars in the distance only added to the energy of the night.

She leaned back in her seat, her head tilted slightly as she watched him. He looked completely at ease, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift. His focus was sharp, the faint glow of the dashboard illuminating his sharp features.

“No girlfriend with you tonight?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the soft hum of the engine.

Oscar’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Don’t have one,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Why?”

He glanced at her briefly, his dark eyes filled with quiet amusement. “Why do you think?”

She turned slightly in her seat, her smile coy. “Don’t you think it’s time to change that?”

Oscar’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly, the words hanging in the air between them. For a moment, the only sound was the steady purr of the McLaren as they sped along the coastline. Then, as if making a split-second decision, he downshifted and pulled the car off the road, steering into a quiet lookout point overlooking the sparkling bay below.

The engine rumbled to a stop, leaving the world in near silence save for the distant waves crashing against the shore. Oscar turned to her, his dark eyes unreadable, the weight of her words still lingering.

“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” he murmured, his voice low and thick with something she couldn’t quite place.

Her smile didn’t waver. “Why would I, when I’m getting exactly what I want?”

For a moment, he just stared at her, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. Then, without another word, he leaned in, one hand reaching up to cup her jaw as his lips crashed against hers. The kiss was electric, heated and unapologetic, the kind of kiss that left no room for second guesses.

She responded instantly, her fingers tangling in the lapels of his jacket as she pulled him closer. The cool leather of the seat beneath her was a stark contrast to the heat radiating between them, their breaths mingling as the kiss deepened.

When they finally broke apart, both of them slightly breathless, she grinned up at him, her confidence as unshakable as ever.

“Told you I’d get what I wanted,” she murmured.

Oscar let out a low laugh, shaking his head as his thumb brushed against her cheek. “You’re going to ruin me, princess.”

She leaned in again, her lips ghosting over his. “You’ll survive.”

Oscar’s gaze lingered on her, his lips still tingling from their kiss. He leaned in again, his hand slipping to her waist as his breath ghosted over her lips, but just as he closed the distance, she pulled back.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she settled against the seat, her smile playful yet maddeningly smug. “Patience,” she whispered, her tone dripping with teasing sweetness. “What’s the rush?”

Oscar narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening slightly. “You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

“Am I?” she said, tilting her head, her fingers tracing the edge of her seatbelt as though she hadn’t just pulled away from him. “Or am I just keeping you on your toes?”

His lips twitched into a smirk, though there was a dangerous edge to it now. “You like playing games, don’t you?”

Before she could respond, Oscar reached out, his hand tangling in her hair with surprising firmness. The suddenness of it made her breath hitch, her teasing smile faltering for the first time. He pulled her towards him, his grip gentle but commanding, and the shift in his energy sent a spark of heat straight through her.

“You forget,” he murmured, his voice a low growl against her ear, “I don’t like to lose.”

And then he kissed her, harder this time, with none of the hesitation from before. It was all hunger and heat, his lips claiming hers as though he was determined to remind her who was in control. She didn’t resist—in fact, the soft sound that escaped her as he deepened the kiss made it clear she wasn’t protesting at all.

Without breaking the kiss, Oscar shifted her effortlessly. His hands gripped her waist as he pulled her onto his lap, her gown gathering around her as she straddled him. The space in the McLaren was tight, but neither of them seemed to care. Her hands slid up his chest, clutching at his shirt as she kissed him back with equal fervour, her earlier teasing entirely abandoned.

Oscar’s hand moved from her hair to the curve of her back, holding her close as their lips moved in sync, the heat between them building with every second. Her perfume wrapped around him, intoxicating, and the soft hum of her breathing against his skin only made him want more.

When they finally broke apart, her lips were swollen, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. She looked down at him, her composure shaken but her eyes still alight with that same daring spark.

“You’re full of surprises,” she murmured, her voice breathless.

Oscar smirked, his hand still resting on her back as he looked up at her. “And you’re full of trouble,” he countered, his voice low and gravelly. “But I don’t mind.”

She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as she leaned in again, her lips hovering just inches from his. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Oscar’s hand lingered on her back as he leaned back slightly, his smirk firmly in place. “We should probably head back before someone notices we’re gone,” he said, though the heat in his voice made it clear he wasn’t entirely committed to the idea.

She tilted her head, her fingers tracing along the edge of his collar. “Fine,” she said, her tone soft but full of something mischievous. Then she added, “But can I drive?”

Oscar blinked, surprised, before letting out a low chuckle. “Drive?” He raised a brow, glancing around the interior of the McLaren. “You want to drive this?”

“Why not?” she teased, sliding off his lap into her seat while adjusting her gown. Her hand brushed along the leather of the steering wheel as she looked at him with a grin. “What, don’t think I can handle it?”

He hesitated for a moment. Letting someone else—especially her—behind the wheel of his prized McLaren felt like madness. But there was something about the way she looked at him, that mix of challenge and confidence, that made it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice low and measured. “But if you so much as scratch it—”

She laughed, cutting him off as she opened her door ready to claim her seat. “Relax, Oscar. I know how to handle expensive toys.”

He climbed into the passenger seat, watching as she adjusted the seat and placed her hands on the wheel with a kind of natural ease that caught him off guard. She turned the key, and the car roared back to life, purring under her control.

“Careful,” he muttered as she pulled out of the lookout point, her silver gown shimmering in the glow of the dashboard.

But careful wasn’t really her style.

The McLaren glided through the winding streets of Monaco, her movements smooth and deliberate. She drove with the kind of confidence that made it impossible not to watch her—one hand on the wheel, the other shifting gears effortlessly. Her gaze was sharp, focused, but there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Oscar leaned back in his seat, his eyes fixed on her. There was something undeniably hot about watching her handle the car. The way her fingers gripped the wheel, the slight tilt of her head as she navigated the sharp turns, the soft hum of concentration she made under her breath—it was intoxicating.

His jaw tightened as he shifted in his seat, trying to focus on anything other than the growing heat building inside him. “You’re enjoying this a little too much,” he muttered.

She glanced at him briefly, her smile widening. “What, you don’t think I’m doing a good job?”

“You’re doing fine,” he admitted grudgingly, though his tone betrayed just how much more he was thinking.

But instead of heading back to the gala, she veered off, turning down a quieter road that led toward the waterfront. Oscar frowned, sitting up slightly.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

She didn’t answer immediately, her smile remaining as she continued to drive. The glow of the city faded slightly as she pulled into the circular drive of a luxury hotel, its grand façade glittering under the night sky.

She parked smoothly, turning off the engine before looking over at him with that same maddeningly smug expression. “Thought we could use a change of scenery,” she said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Oscar stared at her, caught somewhere between annoyance and intrigue. “You know, this wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”

She leaned back in her seat, one hand still resting on the wheel, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Since when do you strike me as a man who follows a plan?”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the sight of her—smug, gorgeous, completely in control—had him swallowing his words. There was no denying it: watching her drive his car, taking charge like that, had done something to him.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with something more than frustration.

Her grin widened, her confidence unwavering as she leaned towards him slightly. “And you love it.”

For a moment, he just looked at her, the tension between them crackling like static electricity. Then, without a word, he leaned in, his hand gripping her jaw as he kissed her again, this time with more intensity than before.

Oscar was just starting to lose himself in the kiss when she abruptly pulled away, leaving him momentarily stunned. She smirked at him, her confidence maddeningly intact, and reached for the car door.

“Wait—what are you doing?” he asked, still catching his breath.

But she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped out of the McLaren, smoothing her gown as if nothing had happened. Before he could process what was going on, she tossed the car keys to the valet standing nearby. The poor man fumbled but managed to catch them, staring wide-eyed at the sleek car she’d just stepped out of.

“Take care of it,” she said breezily, her tone one of casual authority.

Oscar remained in the passenger seat, stunned. He wasn’t used to people taking charge—especially not with his car—but somehow, the way she did it was effortlessly sexy. She didn’t even glance back at him as she strode toward the grand entrance of the hotel, the soft click of her heels against the pavement leaving him momentarily frozen.

It wasn’t until the valet awkwardly cleared his throat that Oscar snapped out of it. He scrambled out of the car, muttering, “Don’t scratch it,” before hurrying after her.

By the time he reached the hotel lobby, she was already stepping into the lift, her silver gown shimmering under the chandelier’s light. The lift doors were beginning to close, and for a second, he thought she might leave him behind. But just as the gap narrowed, her gaze met his, and she pressed the button to hold the doors.

Oscar stepped in, his breathing slightly uneven—not from the chase, but from the way she was looking at him, all challenge and heat.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and rough.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “You’re the one who followed me.”

The doors slid shut, sealing them inside. The moment they were alone, the tension between them became unbearable. The soft hum of the lift seemed deafening in the silence as Oscar took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re going to drive me insane,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and desire.

Her smile widened, her confidence as infuriating as it was intoxicating. “Good,” she whispered.

That was all it took.

Oscar closed the distance in an instant, backing her against the wall of the lift as his lips found hers again. This time, there was no hesitation, no space for games. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he kissed her deeply, his frustration pouring into every movement.

She responded with equal fervour, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, her back pressing against the cold metal of the lift wall. The contrast between the chill of the wall and the heat of his touch sent shivers through her, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she pushed closer, her body arching into his.

Oscar’s hand slid to the small of her back, holding her firmly in place as his lips moved to her jaw, then down to the curve of her neck. Her breath hitched, and he felt the slight tremor that ran through her.

“Still want to play games?” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low growl.

She let out a soft laugh, her nails grazing the back of his neck as she tilted her head to give him more access. “Only if I keep winning,” she whispered, her voice breathless.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes smouldering. “Not this time.”

Before she could respond, he captured her lips again, silencing whatever quip she was about to throw at him. The kiss was fiery, intense, and left no room for second-guessing. The soft chime of the lift was barely a blip in the haze of their heated embrace. By the time the doors slid open, neither of them made any move to stop. Oscar’s lips were still locked on hers, his hands gripping her waist as though letting go wasn’t an option. She tugged him forward, their steps hurried and uncoordinated as they stumbled out of the lift.

“Which one?” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick and breathless.

She broke the kiss just long enough to motion toward the double doors at the end of the corridor. “Penthouse,” she whispered, her tone teasing but drenched with desire.

Oscar didn’t need more instruction. His hand found hers as they hurried toward the doors, her soft laughter echoing in the hallway as they fumbled to get inside. She reached into her clutch, pulling out the key card and sliding it through the reader with a practiced flick of her wrist. The lock clicked, and before the door could even swing fully open, Oscar had her pinned against the frame, his mouth crashing onto hers again.

She gasped against his lips, her hands finding their way under his jacket, fingers splaying against the hard lines of his chest. He pushed her through the doorway, their movements clumsy but urgent, and the door slammed shut behind them with a soft thud.

The suite was breathtaking, all glittering chandeliers and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of Monaco’s sparkling coastline. But neither of them paid it any mind. She walked him backward toward the plush sofa in the centre of the room, her lips never leaving his.

His hands roamed her body with a possessive hunger, sliding down her back to the curve of her hips. The silky fabric of her gown was smooth beneath his fingertips, but he was already imagining what was underneath. His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, then to the delicate column of her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her that made his blood run hotter.

Her own hands were equally adventurous, pushing his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. She tugged at the buttons of his shirt, her impatience making quick work of them as she revealed the toned muscles beneath.

“Impressive,” she murmured, her voice teasing but shaky with anticipation.

Oscar smirked against her skin, his lips grazing the hollow of her throat. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”

Her laugh was cut short by the way his hands gripped her thighs, lifting her slightly as he flipped her toward the sofa. She let out a breathless gasp as he set her down on the edge, his body immediately pressing against hers. His hand trailed up her bare thigh, pushing the slit of her gown further aside as his lips found hers again.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as she pulled him closer, her own control slipping with every passing second. His other hand travelled south, his touch firm yet teasing as it inched along her skin, setting her nerves alight.

“Still feeling in charge?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough.

Her response was a soft moan, her head falling back against the cushion as he kissed a line down her neck, his hand exploring further. The sound of her breaths, quick and shallow, filled the air between them, mingling with the faint hum of the city outside.

He smirked, his lips grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. “That’s what I thought.”

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[kikidoul]

── CRIMINAL LOVE.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 양정원 x fem! reader content established+secret relationship reader is a detective while jungwon is part of the mafia ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content petnames used fingering pussy eating cum eating edging/orgasm denial . . .!? 1328 — mlist. req

note. uh, i'm not really proud of this but i'm too lazy to rewrite so i'm afraid you have to make do with this... </3 taglist. @tfwbluu

You groaned for the unknown time, stretching your arms above your head as you leaned back in your chair. You’ve spent the past three hours seated by your desk, boring holes at the sheets of papers scattered across your desk. It was a case that could risk or break your chances of getting a promotion—something you’ve been yearning for. Being a detective is not easy, especially when you have criminals who are constantly outsmarting you. 

Fuck it, I’m dealing with this tomorrow. 

Sighing, you start packing up, filing the papers into a clear folder and shut down your laptop. You were the only one left in the office, leaving you the task of shutting off the lights and air-conditioner before leaving. You headed to the basement where your car was waiting for you and you drove off, returning home. 

“...Why are you here?” You deadpanned, standing by the door frame as a familiar figure made himself at home, seated by the dining table with already cooked dishes. 

Jungwon flashed you his signature smile, his dimples showing on his round cheeks. “Why not? I got off work early and decided to surprise you. Why? Don’t you miss me?” He batted his eyelashes at you, laughing when you rolled your eyes. 

“I miss my peace and quiet. It was great having the whole house to myself. What happened anyway? Didn’t you tell me the mission will last for two weeks?” You asked as you removed your shoes, neatly placing them by the side. 

Jungwon rose from his seat, approached you to help in taking your things and placed them on the coffee table. “It finished earlier than we expected and Hyung decided to let us have a short break. But enough about me, how was your day, darling?” 

You shot him a glare. “Oh, you know, thanks to a certain someone, I had to stay behind, trying to figure out what his main goal is.” 

Humming, he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your left shoulder, slightly swaying you side to side. “Sounds like you’re under lots of pressure, love. Perhaps you need to destress.” 

He coos, hands subtly snaking its way underneath your clothes, tracing the outline of your body. Goosebumps formed on your body when his warm hands touched your skin. You looked over your shoulder, arching an eyebrow. 

“And what do you have in mind?” You questioned. 

The smirk Jungwon gave you was anything but harmless. His eyes twinkled with mischief, a sly smirk stretching across his face. “I’ve an idea.” 

~

“Hah—Wonie—oh fuck,” you cried out, your back arching off the bed as you gripped onto both the pillow and his hair with your hands. 

Your legs were slung over his broad shoulders, spread open for him like you were the main dish served to him on a silver platter. Your back arched off the bed at a particularly harsh suck of your clit, digging your feet onto your boyfriend’s back to ground yourself. You weren’t sure how much time had passed. It could be minutes or hours but you couldn’t care. Not when Jungwon was eating you out like there was no tomorrow. You rocked your hips against his mouth, breathless moans and whimpers fell from your lips. 

You felt the familiar ache in your stomach and how your muscles tightened. “Fuck—Wonie, please, please,” you mewled, wanting to be free from this sweet torture your boyfriend was putting you through. 

Much to your utter horror, frustration and disbelief, Jungwon moved away. He chuckled at the desperation written all over your face and just to be a tease, he rolled your puffy clit in slow circles, grinning at how your legs twitched. 

“Nuh uh, I don’t think you deserve to cum, sweetheart,” he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

His words made you sobbed out loud, tears of frustration prickled your eyes. “Why!?” 

Jungwon hums. “Because you didn’t solve the case. How about you tell me where you stopped and I’ll help you out. If you can answer me correctly, you can cum. How does that sound?” 

Your left eyebrow subtly twitched, unable to believe what he was saying. “Jungwon, I swear to god—!?”

The rest of your words died in your throat when he pushed two fingers in and you instinctively clenched down on the sudden intrusion. Your eyes rolled up at the feeling of him twisting his fingers in just the right angle, hitting the spot that made you see stars. As quick as it happened, Jungwon pulled his fingers out, eliciting a disappointed sound of protest from you. 

“First question: how far are you into your investigation?” He questioned, calm and collected while you, on the other hand, were a mess. 

It was already hard for you to process his question, especially when he thought it was a great idea to kiss your inner thighs, touching you everywhere but your poor neglected and throbbing clit. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating in anticipation when you felt his hot breath grazing against your clit, only to let out a startled yelp when he pinched your thigh. 

“Hey, I’m asking you a question, you know. What? Don’t tell me you’re already fucked out?” He mocks you, moving his fingers down to brush them against your clit, slowly spreading your folds apart and blowing hot air at it, savoring the way you squeaked. 

“Imagine how your superior will react if they were to see their brightest, smartest and intelligent detective getting defiled by the very same criminal she’s tasked to go after,” he continues, emphasizing some of his words with him moving his long, thick and slender fingers in a scissors-like movement, making your mind reeled from the delirious feeling. 

“Ngh, I—I’ve figured out—hah—your patterns, oh god,” you breathed out, gripping onto the sheets for dear life as Jungwon ducked his head to lap away at your clit, collecting your slick to spread them all over your puffy folds. 

As far as you were aware, you have been edged for the past one or two hours and all it took was for a few simple licks with his skillful tongue for you to push you over the edge. Your body shook vigorously from your orgasm, limbs twitching and spasming about as Jungwon drinks it all, not letting a single drop go to waste. 

You knew you were in deep trouble when you caught how Jungwon’s eyes darkened a shade. You nervously gulped, watching as he moved upwards, hands resting on both sides of your head. You felt small under his intense, unwavering gaze and you squirmed about on the sheets. A gasp left your lips when he gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“Looks like you disobeyed my order. I hope you’ve prepared yourself,” he warned. 

~ 

The next day, you arrived at your office feeling more exhausted than usual. It was a miracle that no one noticed how you were limping as you made your way to the pantry area. 

“(Name), how’s the progress on the investigation going?” Your superior asked, startling the lights out of you as you were in the midst of preparing a cup of coffee for yourself. 

Turning around, you plastered what you hoped was a convincing smile. “Ah, I’m almost there and I just need a little more time before I can catch them, sir.” 

Your superior nodded, pleased with your response and left you alone. You sighed, hand tracing the hickey left on your neck—concealed by a layer of makeup. 

Bzzt, bzzt. 

Feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket, you pulled out the device to see it was a text message from Jungwon. Ensuring no one was nearby, you opened your conversation to see two simple messages: 

Hi love, just want to let you know that we’ll be committing a crime tonight at: XXX - XX - XXXX. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ love you

Catch me if you can, detective ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)✨

[legalandnotease]

This is utterly and laughably wrong.

Bucky did not use anything close to "lethal force" on the police. They are clearly shown to be not even remotely injured.

If he had wanted to kill them, Bucky would have picked up one of the discarded guns and mown them down without mercy.

Instead what does he do? He employs hand-to hand combat. He deflects bullets with his arms, and pushes their weapons out the way.

He punches and elbows them. None of this is "lethal force"

...and he pulled a guy off a bike.

Again, not lethal force. Not even close

That he had carried out dozens of missions for Hydra that would have required the ability to plan and adapt over the years.

He carried out targeted assassinations. These are very different military operations. They did not require planning. Only muscle memory.

Which, by the way is the same thing Natasha did: and yet Tony does not view her as an evil killer.

That he apparently had the ability NOT to follow orders if it was important enough to him.

No evidence for this. Unless you mean the one singular time he didn't kill Steve.. because Steve broke through his conditioning long enough for their connection to allow Bucky to make the first choice he had made for himself in 70 years.

The rest of the time, he's tortured if he so much as doesn't give a mission report. There was no reason to assume he was capable of defying orders.

That when they met in Siberia he was holding a gun on Tony right up until he decided that a known superhero wasn't gonna like, hold him legally responsible for his actions or anything crazy like that.

Context is important for what happened in Siberia. They are hunting Zemo: they are also in the bunker where there are 5 other super soldiers.

They are in a highly dangerous situation when they hear the elevator being activated. ANYBODY coudl have been in that elevator. Zemo, one of the other soldiers. For all they knew Zemo had accomplices.

That is why Bucky raised his gun. It was a natural, and quite sensible, defensive posture for a trained soldier.

Also it pays to remember the last time he saw Tony, Tony was attacking him. He was in the company of T'Challa who tried to rip Bucky's throat out (somethiing which Tony was fine with btw). For all Bucky knew, Tony had come to finish the job.

THAT is why he pointed his weapon at Tony. Until he proved himself to not be a threat.

Why should all of this add up to "Hero tragically mind controlled into these terrible actions as he watched helplessly from within his own body, hasn't he suffered enough?!?!

Hmmm, I dunno. Maybe becausde Tony knew all that was true. He had all that information. He called him Manchurian Candidate. He knew about mind control: he'd witnessed it first hand. Clint Barton tried to kill *HIM* under mind control.

I love the character, but that is the most gd BORING interpretation of the Winter Soldier possible, not to mention unsupported by what we are shown, much less what Tony knew.

Except it is *totally* supported by what we are shown. We are shown Bucky as a captive being repeatedly tortured. We are shown the horror and fear on his face when Zemo says his trigger words.

We are shown the guilt and shame when he is forced to kill. We are shown a guy trying not to kill, who doesn't even want to fight if he can help it.

He acts only defensively. He lived in Romania for 2 years without incident. He didn't join some mercenary band or become organized crime gang. We are not shown an evil pyschopath who enjoys killing. (If anything that's Tony...)

By the point we see hm we have seen it established that Mind Control victim are not in control of their actions. Which is why Tony fans use mind control as an excuse for his actions.

I get it. You love the male power fantasy of the Winter Soldier. Just like you love Mr "r*pe is funny" Stark, but that was and has never been Bucky's true nature and we are shown that multiple times. Right from the outset.

All this other nonsense is simply an attempt to justify Tony's attempted murder of the guy.

I always see Anti-Team Cap and Pro-Tony discuss how Tony attacking Bucky and Steve was justified and made sense, and yes, I totally agree with them, and regardless of the fact that Tony attacked Steve first because Steve was the one who lied and betrayed him, there is one thing that I haven’t seen be discussed much.

And it’s this scene right here:

Look at Tony’s face. Look at the shock and fear.

Bucky had no way of knowing that Tony could have protected himself, and he aimed right at Tony’s head. Look at the proximity of the weapon to Tony’s face. He could’ve blown his mind clear off if Tony wasn’t fast enough.

Tony had absolutely no way of knowing that Bucky “had changed” when literally just what? Days? Hours? Moments? ago, he could’ve died at Bucky’s hands.

That’s all I have to say.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Smutty Steve request! Steve and reader are longtime friends, but he never thought of her *that* way until she shows up at a party or whatever in a this dress (that she got to finally get him to notice her) - like Dress by Taylor Swift inspired!

I got a little carried away with this one but I hope that’s okay lol

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving)

Everyone knows how hopelessly in love with Steve you are. They can see how pathetically you look at him when he’s flirting with another girl. They can see it in the way you always go out of your way to touch him in a flirty manner. Everyone knows that you’re in love with Steve, well except for Steve.

You don’t know how obvious you can make it. You’ve asked him out multiple times and he always agrees, but he’s never aware that it’s a date. It’s just two friends hanging out. It’s to the point where you could tell him exactly how you feel and he still wouldn’t get it.

Steve isn’t stupid, you know that to be true, so why is he not getting your hints? How much longer are you going to have to spell it out for him until he finally gets it?

You stand in front of the house and take a deep breath as you smooth out your dress. It’s a little black thing. Something you would normally never wear, but after some convincing from Robin and Nancy at the mall, you caved and bought it.

It’s tight, hugging every single curve and heels you’re wearing make your legs look long even though it doesn’t matter because you can barely walk in there.

You hold on to Robin and Nancy for support as they lead you into the house, knowing that without them, you’d be walking like an animal who’s learning to walk for the first time. This is just saving you the embarrassment.

The second you walk through the door, Steve can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you. He’s not even paying attention to what Eddie, Jonathan, or Argyle are talking about. All he cares about is you.

Before he can stop himself, he’s making his way into the kitchen where you’re headed. Robin and Nancy let go of you and you hold onto the counter, trying to not make it obvious that you’re struggling.

“Can I get you a drink?” He asks and you nod enthusiastically. That would definitely make you forget about the pain of these stupid shoes.

“Please,” you nod and he’s quick to grab a solo cup and the red wine he knows you love. He pours it into the cup and watches you take a few sips, wondering what your pretty, red lips would look like with your mouth wide open as you moan his name over and over.

“Doesn’t y/n look great tonight, Steve?” Robin moves to stand beside him, nudging his shoulder with hers.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, letting his eyes rake over your body. He’s never thought about you that way, but now he can’t stop thinking about burying his face between your thighs as your hands grab fistfuls of his hair, tugging on it.

You finally look at him and notice his cheeks flushing. You assume it’s the alcohol, but you can’t help but think that maybe it’s something else. Something dirty.

The tension between the two of you is now palpable as Steve steps forward and Robin and Nancy flee the kitchen, deciding that their work is now done.

You mimic Steve, stepping forward, only for your ankle to roll as you do so. Steve is quick to catch you, preventing you from falling to the floor. Those honey eyes are looking down at you in concern and you feel like you could just melt under his gaze.

He’s leaning so close that you’re sure he’s going to kiss you, but he doesn’t. He’s whispering something to you, those beautiful eyes boring into yours, but you can’t quite make out the words.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concern etching his features and you’re honored that he cares, but Steve always cares about you. About everyone. Always quick to take care of anyone who needs the attention.

You still remember the moment you fell in love with him. You were all park riding bikes because it was such a nice day. You didn’t know how to ride, but you wanted to feel included so you borrowed one of his bikes without having any prior experience.

You couldn’t stay steady, the bike moving this way and that and eventually, you fell over, the bike landing on top of you. Steve was quick to hurry over to you. Without a word, he pushed the bike off of you then carried you over to the blanket where the others who weren’t riding were sitting.

He pulled out a first aid kit from his pocket and cared for your scraped up knee. He was just so sweet and no one had ever done anything like that for you. He was your knight in shining armor and he didn’t even know it.

You’re brought to the present as helps you stand up, but your ankle gives out again as you wince at the pain coursing through it. Without another thought, Steve picks you up and carries you down the hallway to the nearest empty room which happens to be a bedroom.

Steve sets you on the bed and kneels in front of you, quick bring his hands up to your shoes, unbuckling the ankle straps. He pulls the shoes off your feet and without a word, he begins to massage your ankle that you rolled.

An involuntary moan falls from your lips at the feeling, his fingers working magic on your muscles. It’s easily the most pleasure you’ve ever felt and you wonder if he’s this talented with his fingers in other areas.

“Does that feel good?” He asks and you can just imagine him asking you the same question with his hand between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out as you moan over and over.

“Mhm,” you nod as he presses even harder into your skin, causing you to moan even louder and he’s trying his best to hide his hard on as he moves back ever so slightly, but it’s so obvious now, sticking straight out.

You need him to touch you now, your mind not even focused on your pain as all you can think about now is having his fingers inside you. You’re desperate for it now as he continues to massage your ankle. You’re focused on his touch, his soft skin against yours.

It’s torture to think about but you can’t help it. You want him, need him so bad that you feel like you could cry.

You grab him by the wrist and guide his hand towards your cunt as you spread your legs. His eyes widen and you can clearly see his pupils dilate as his hands grab hold of the waist band of your panties. He pulls them down as you spread your legs even wider, looking up at him with a flirty look.

Steve presses his his middle and ring fingers together before he brings them to your cunt slowly, looking you in the eye, giving you every opportunity to back out if this isn’t what you want.

As soon as his fingers slide inside, he knows he’s made the right choice as you moan again. He never thought he’d do this kind of thing with you, but now that he is, there’s no way he’s backing out. Watching you splayed out on the bed just for him, he feels like he’s in heaven.

His pumps are slow at first as he tries to get the hang of it, only using the tips of his fingers. But as he picks up the pace, he pushes in further with each pump, eating up the way you’re enjoying it.

You lie back flat, spreading your legs even wider, each knee pressing against the bed. As you lie back, he’s able to get a much better view of your sopping wet cunt as well as feeling it.

You’re so wet, and for him. He wonders if you’ve ever thought about him this way. If you’ve fantasized about the two of you in this position. He hasn’t. Not until tonight. And he’s kicking himself for just now realizing how hot you are. He’s always found you attractive, he has eyes, but never sexually.

Up until now, you’ve always been just a friend to him. But now he’s itching to get inside you, desperate to know what your lips look like, what you look like underneath your dress. He wants to rip it to shreds with his teeth until you’re in your underwear. He’ll then rip apart your bra until you’re naked underneath him, whining, begging for you to fuck him.

His fingers are pumping so hard and fast as you moan and whine, your nails digging into the bedding underneath you, not even trying to stifle the sounds you’re making considering that there are other people in the house, but it’s not like they can hear you anyway. The stereo is up too loud and they’re all too busy mingling.

You can feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head, on the verge of an orgasm. You feel his fingers curl, hitting just the right spot to make you climax, to make you feel better than you ever have in the bedroom.

He clearly knows what he’s doing as he curls his fingers again and again, making you moan over and over until you’re absolutely spent. Once he’s, he removes his fingers, licking up the slick from his fingers as his well deserved reward and now that he’s gotten a taste, he thinks he needs another, but this time directly from the source.

Steve looks down between your legs, his mouth watering as his need to get a taste of you intensifies. God, he wants it so bad, so desperate that he’s drooling, spit dribbling down his chin.

“Can’t believe this is all for me,” he tells you as his hands rest gently on your knees. You’re so wet now that it’s trailing down your thighs and before he can stop himself, Steve grabs hold of one of your thighs. He brings it to his mouth and licks the trail all the way up until he’s just inches from your cunt.

You gasp as he does this, but you can’t deny how good it feels, especially when he goes for another lick, his tongue leaving behind a stripe of spit as he does so. He then goes for your other thigh, doing the exact same thing, but going slower now, chuckling to himself as you squirm underneath him, begging for him to eat you out already.

“Alright, relax,” he tells you as he pulls away. He pushes you back down onto the mattress, keeping his hands on your shoulders as he leans in, his lips just inches from yours. You close your eyes, expecting a kiss, but when you open them, Steve’s on his knees again, grabbing hold of your thighs.

“Steve-” you sit up to look him in the eye, to show him how upset you are by his teasing.

“Yes, honey?” He asks, that mischievous glint in his eye as throws your legs onto his shoulders. You instantly melt at the nickname then lie back again. He’s got you right where he wants you and you know it. He still doesn’t seem to understand that you’d do anything he’d say because you’re just that much in love with him.

He buries his face into your cunt and you gasp as his mouth licks and sucks on your clit, your hands subconsciously sliding into his hair. He pushes your dress up to your waist as you push down into your cunt even more. Steve decides right there that if he’s going to die like this that it’s a pretty fucking good way to go.

You let up and tug on his hair instead as he continues to lick and suck on your clit. Your heels are digging into his back as your toes curl in pleasure. You’ve been eaten out before, but not like this, never like this.

He’s definitely done this before as he knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how to make you feel good. His mouth moves down to your slit as he bites down, his teeth sliding across the sensitive skin as you moan, your nails digging into his scalp in response.

Your thighs press tightly against the side of his head as he continues with his teeth, biting down even harder, making you feel so good. He then goes back in with his tongue, needing yet another taste of you, desperate for it.

This is the best pussy he’s ever tasted and he’s fully content right now, deciding that he could do this for hours without getting tired. Especially with how you’re reacting to the whole thing.

Steve sticks his tongue inside you and that’s where you absolutely lose it. You’re coming again and he can your slick leaking out onto his tongue. It’s the sweetest thing, almost resembling candy and he can get enough as he swirls his tongue around, desperate for more.

You come one more time and he’s reluctant to remove himself from you, but he has to if he wants to continue. He pulls away from you as you orgasm one more time as sits back on his knees, watching you, thinking that you’re the most beautiful creature that ever was.

You reach out for him and he’s quick to take your hands, bringing himself down to hover over you. His lips hesitantly press against yours as his hands pin yours against the bed.

The kiss is messy, clumsy at first, but the two of you eventually get the hang of it as it becomes progressively more hungry, especially on your end. You need him. You need him in ways that are concerning. And if his rock hard cock is any indication, you think you’re going to get pretty lucky.

His tongue slides into your mouth as you move to untuck his shirt from his jeans. He parts from you only to let you slip it over his head and as soon as his shirt is on the floor, his lips are on yours again, even more hungry this time as he takes exactly what he wants from you.

Your hands move to his belt and unbuckle it quickly before moving on to the button of his jeans. Before he knows it, you’re unzipping them and pulling them as much as you can. Steve reaches into his pocket for a condom and tosses it to the side before finishing the job, tossing his jeans to the side, followed by his underwear.

You always knew he had a big dick, but now the proof is right in front of you. He’s so hard and all you want is to make him feel as good as he made you feel. You want to make him come over and over, to return to favor.

He then helps you sit up then reaches up and unzips your dress with ease, pulling it up over your head. It drops next to him as he stares at the pretty, black, lacy bra you’re wearing.

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighs as he stares at you, almost completely naked, and for him.

“You’re the perfect one,” you reply and Steve doesn’t know why he feels his cheeks heat. You’ve complimented so many times, but this time, it feels different. “Now c’mere,” you waved him over and he scoots closer as your hands cradle his face.

You press a kiss to his lips as you feel around the mattress for the condom. Once you have it in your hands, you push Steve onto the mattress before straddling his waist.

“Now it’s your turn to come,” you tell him as you rip the packet open with your teeth. Steve watches you roll the condom onto him then discard your bra before settling yourself onto his cock, not even giving him a chance to think before begin to ride him.

His hands move to your waist as his hips buck against yours, the two of you working together. He’s working harder than you are, pushing all of himself inside of you, or at least, trying to.

“Hey,” you tell him, taking on an authoritative tone and he immediately stops. “You don’t have to try so hard. Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Okay,” he nods then lies back, his fingers still digging into your waist as you pick it up again. He’s already moaning so you know you’ve gotten it right, already knowing what he likes.

You continue, moving even faster and his nails are digging so far into you that you’re sure that he’s going to break skin, but he quickly eases up, probably sensing that he’s hurting you.

“You sound so hot. Wanna make some more sounds for me?”

“Mhm,” he nods and he moans again as you lean over, your lips finding his once again, moving against his so softly which juxtaposes how you’re fucking him so hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whines into your mouth, already feeling he’s close which is so embarrassing for him since you’ve barely started, but he can’t help it. You’re just fucking him so good that he doesn’t think he’s not going to be able to walk afterwards. And he doesn’t even care. He wants you to do whatever you want to him. He wants to be your good boy.

“I knew you liked it rough,” you laugh as you watch him come completely undone underneath you. He’s already coming and he can’t stop, his orgasm completely taking over his body.

“Fuck, so good,” he whines as you keep up, trying to get one last climax out of him before you get off, watching him come down from it as you hurry to get dressed, but he reaches out and grabs hold of your waist, stopping you from going any where.

He discards the condom then gets under the covers, holding the blanket up for you. You get in beside him and he pulls you to his chest, bare skin to bare skin as he drops a kiss to your forehead.

The two of you lay there in the quiet, his hands moving up and down your back while yours plays with his hair, the only sound that can be heard is your breathing as the two of you think about nothing except what you’ve just done.

“Do you think we could do this again tomorrow night?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“Definitely,” you nod.

“Do you think that we could do it as a couple?” You move that you’re hovering over him, trying to make sure that you hear him right. There have been too many times when your fantasies took over so now you want to be one hundred percent sure.

“What did you just say?” You ask, maybe a bit too harshly and now you’ve got Steve stammering.

“Well, I was wondering if it would be okay if I was your boyfriend. Is that a tacky thing to ask after sex? Because I-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, smiling into the kiss as his hand moves up to cradle the back of your head, his smile mimicking yours as you pull away far too soon for his liking.

“So is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes,” you roll your eyes, giving him another kiss before lying back down on his chest.

[atzhrts]

what are some things you think give dom riize butterflies in bed 😋

includes: mentions of corruption but not actually (shotaro) dacryphilia, mentions of sex with the others around & squirting (eunseok), size training kind of (sungchan), pussy eating (seunghan), choking (sohee)

shotaro

he loves whenever you get this random burst of confidence, pushing him on his back and straddling him before looking at him like ‘what now’. is very into the fact that you want guidance from him (also corruption kink), sure you were feeling like a big girl just know, thinking you can just do your thing but now you’re asking him to take over again. definitely tells you no and that you started this and need to go though with it. (manly because he enjoys seeing you struggle to ride his dick)

eunseok

when you cry. there’s just something about you showing such raw emotions that seem like they’re so misplaced. it also gives him such an ego boost, because of course he knows you are not faking your moans - otherwise you wouldn’t let them slip out around his members when you’re riding him during movie nights. and he’s pretty sure you’re not faking your orgasms either because he hasn’t found an explanation for how you could fake your juices spraying against his abdomen and bedsheets but adding the vision of you crying just from his dick is doing wonders for him.

sungchan

the very moment when he first pushes into you and he watches your eyes flutter as both of you let out a synchronized moan. sungchan knows you always struggle a bit with taking his length, even if he prepares you throughly most of the times (heavy on the most). gentle finger running through your wetness before he pushes the first one in, pressing little kisses against your clit as he adds a second one. he loves listening to your sweet gasps and pants as he moves them in scissoring motion inside of you, eyes fixed on the way your pussy pulses around his digits. he knows he’s big but he loves to see the physical reminder on your face everztime his tip enters your tightness.

wonbin

as i said before, praising and that in all possible ways. i don’t think wonbin is very insecure, he knows he’s fine and he’s secure enough in your relationship to trust you would tell him directly if he’s not pleasing you. but something about you stuttering out praise without him having to ask for anything or even doing much always gives him this warm fuzzy feeling in his belly. whether it be you actually telling him how good he is doing and that he makes you feel so good, or combined with your touches. your shaky hands running down his arms “you’re so pretty binnie” he feels your pussy tighten around his length and knows the desperation is speaking out of you “your dick is so good”

seunghan

when your brush his hair out of his face as he’s eating you out. we all agree he’s a certified muncher right? that man can spend hours between your legs and not get bored. im fact he tried, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you, tongue abusing your swollen clit as his fingers massage your insides. he smiles into your pussy as he notices the way your legs start to shake around his head before threatening to close, thighs pressing against his ears tightly. your hand however is the exact opposite brushing his hair out of his face ever so gently. he loves the fact that even being lost in your pleasure you still take your time to make sure you can properly see your lovers face.

sohee

he’s into choking i just know it. nothing too extreme till the point he can’t breath anymore but a warm hand against his throat just weirdly reassures him. like this is really happening, he’s really dating the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes on and he really has her at his mercy. that being said he doesn’t mind a gentle squeeze every now and then. like when he hits that special spot inside of you or uses a particularly harsh thrust he just knows he’ll be rewarded with your fingers tightening around his neck. he lets out the sweetest high pitched moans, something about the power dynamics just get him. you trashing around and whimpering underneath him as he thrusts into you harshly and even if he has the dominance ver you he’s still in such a vulnerable position with your hand wrapped around his sensitive neck

anton

jerking him off whenever you put the condom on him. he’s a grown man he’s perfectly capable of putting a condom on by himself but he absolutely loves it when you do it. opening the package with his teeth, mindlessly spitting the trash to the side before he places it over his tip, eyes meeting yours when your hands cover his hands. “let me do it” you look up at him “please” and who is he to deny his baby? + he really enjoys the tightness of your hand as you roll the latex down his length, throwing his head back when you squeeze the base. the first time you done this he nearly came in your hand as he watched you jerk him off lazily before he gets the real deal.

[iid-smile]

content — michael kaiser x coach!gn!reader, enemies to lovers, probably ooc, some references to his past (choking), i got a wee bit carried away and then got lazy on the lover part, ok rereading i fear this might be really ooc idk i dont read the manga

enemy!kaiser who knows at first glance that he just doesn't like you. he could say that about a lot of people, but you're a different case.

enemy!kaiser who hasn't quite got the smarts, nor do you have the physical abilities, other than being a coach, to become actual rivals over something. but you know what's better? arguing over nothing.

enemy!kaiser that would do anything to piss you off and get his way. yes, he was there for the lengthy meeting for a new and reliable strategy for the next match, but he's going to completely disregard it simply because he's michael kaiser. who's gonna stop him?

enemy!kaiser who loves to get in your face, using his stature to his advantage. if you try to avoid eye contact, he only gets closer, opening his eyes much wider than needed and tilting his head so that he's the only thing that you see.

enemy!kaiser who makes you do everything for him just to spite you. from now on, it's your job to dry his hair — and don't do it too hard, otherwise you'll just mess it up. he's awfully picky about what you do and if you don't do it right, expect to hear an absolute mouthful.

kaiser who starts to talk to you normally. it's scary. every time you try to rile him up, he does respond with his usual array of insults, but they don't seem to be as sincere.

kaiser who starts to listen to you more. whenever you talk, he stares, and it's unsettling having him be so neutral. try to shy away, and as usual, he moves closer, placing his hands on his knees with his eyes boring into yours. is it just you, or are your noses touching?

kaiser who accidentally let you see how truly vulnerable he could become. it was all a big mistake, a misunderstanding, so he wished. he wanted to yell at you, to curse you out, but you didn't say a word, simply turning and closing the door and giving him the privacy that he needs.

kaiser who lets you touch his tattoos for the first time. he felt oddly comfortable that night, being surrounded only by your presence. he wasn't happy, nor sad, yet his heart was more audible than usual. he was an empty vessel, thinking and thinking about what his emotions doing to him.

kaiser who suddenly switches back to his old self. it's a defense mechanism of sorts — if he could at least act like he hates you, then he doesn't have to come to terms with his feelings.

but yet, he knows he could trust you. you've kept all of his secrets, protected him from harm, whether that be physically or verbally. never have you used his weaknesses to your advantage, or stooped too low to the point that it reminds him of his past. he wasn't looking for love, he didn't believe in love. but maybe, just maybe...

kaiser who doesn't know what he's doing. when was the last time he's ever experienced such a thing? what can he do? how can he show you how he feels? what if you reject him? no, of course not... but you've spent all of this time hating each other... how low could the changes possibly be?

in the end, you were feeling the exact same way.

lover!kaiser doesn't want to make things public immediately. it's partially his pride, but he's scared. he's scared of this entirely new part of him that was once broken before.

lover!kaiser seems to be more of a tease. his formerly rude comments come off as playful, with a smirk on his lips that is less forced, less hateful.

lover!kaiser is intimidated by the world of romance. gifts? touch? he doesn't think he could bear with it. you remained patient, teaching him slowly at his pace, and speaking your own language of love to each other.

lover!kaiser who has heart eyes that are only noticeable to you. you don't get how nobody else sees it, but perhaps they're mistaking it for his intense gaze.

lover!kaiser who finds it satisfying when you touch his neck. you only graze your fingers tentatively over his throat, yet his hand wraps around yours, urging you to make it rougher, to grip it tighter. despite his request, you don't, and he's almost relieved from that. it's not enough to completely erase the habit, but it's nice to have a better memory attached to it.

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ GDRAGON AS A FATHER

୨ৎ pairing: father!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: quite soft, quite fluffy, and emotional!

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!! so happy to receive this adore request and I’ve been so excited to get to it! I hope you can enjoy this and seeing a dad jiyong would be the cutest ever!! ): such a sweetheart x

jiyong will be the most softest, caring, sweetest, loving, supportive, and genuine father ever!!!!!!!!!!

does not care about whether the first baby will be a boy or a girl all he cares about is having a healthy child that he can help him become a better person.

enjoys letting the baby hold his finger and takes at least a dozen photos even when you tell him it’s a bit pointless to have so many of the same photos.

“it’s not! what if something happens to the first few I took then I need to have more for backup!”

jiyong will be extremely overprotective and if a family member wants to hold the baby he has to be near to watch and make sure everything is okay.

“see that precious smile? that’s because of me.”

you’ll give him this look and he then of course adds you in and thanks you for helping in the creation of the baby and why he/she is just so beautiful. aww

“do you think he’ll/she’ll look more like me or look more like you as they get older? I’m so curious.”

jiyong will kiss you and tell you to go back to sleep while he takes care of the baby during the night. he knows you need all the rest you can get for being up most of the day with the baby. he’s very caring.

spoils the child rotten but also makes sure that he or she has the best manners even at such a young age, teaching basic skills and always showing the baby how much he loves you for everything you do.

as the child gets older it only makes jiyong slightly panic because he wanted so badly for the baby to stay little forever but of course it doesn’t work that way so he spends extra time filming for memories.

“one sec! let me take this last picture.. alright I got it. gosh.. she/he looks so perfect thanks to us.”

when it’s just the three of you jiyong sometimes gets emotional and talks about how much he’s always wanted a family like this and he still can’t believe he finally has one after so many years.

takes family time very seriously. he’ll cut everyone off who’s not interested in including you and the baby. he doesn’t have time for any of that stuff.

jiyong will want matching pjs, shoes, jewelry, hats, glasses, etc etc with the baby and you. he looks at it like family goals and thinks it’ll complete the fam.

“guess what? I learned how to make this dish! do you think he/she will like it? it has all of his/hers favorite things in it! the broccoli is what sold me.”

jiyong is obsessed with taking you and the baby to the park every chance that he gets. he’ll ask if you want to go if the weather is nice and gets the big bag ready full of snacks, drinks, and toys for the baby in case he/she gets a little bored there.

he likes to plan little trips as a family. the zoo and aquarium being at the top of the list because in his mind it’s so important to experience these types of things with the baby as a very close family. cute ):

allows you to have time to yourself since being a mom is a very tough job so he’ll take the baby and shop around for the day or hang out at the studio while he/she plays and snacks on yummy snacks.

“are you having fun with dada? I know you are.”

if you’re away at work or he’s allowing you time away for yourself like said before then he’ll send you so many selcas that he takes of him and the baby asking if you’d like this as your wallpaper.

“thank you for giving me my perfect little one.”

jiyong loves falling asleep with the baby even when he/she starts to get older he’ll take bedtime very seriously and read he/she a book while slowly falling asleep. next thing you know he’s asleep with he/she in bed and it’s the cutest thing ever!!!

long story short he’s a perfect father to your baby.

[impish-baby]

A few glimpses into 'both arms cradle you now' reader's childhood in no particular order

"Why do birds suddenly appear evertime you are near.." The wet tears running down your cheeks are gently brushed away, whatever nightmare plaguing your sleep seems so far away now that your dad is here. "Just like me, they long to be close to you.." Damien hoists you into his arms, still humming that familiar lullaby as he carries you to the kitchen.

"Why do stars fall from the sky every time you walk by.." You're set on top of the counter, Damien ruffling your hair softly before walking over to the fridge to fetch a carton of milk. "Just like me.. they long to be.. close to you.." The warm glow of the stove makes the quiet night more cozy, the shadows along the walls retreating as well as any lingering fear.

You can feel you eyes start to droop, a small yawn leaving your lips making the man chuckle fondly. "One sec, ok? Daddy has some angel milk for you so you don't have anymore bad dreams, then we'll get you tucked back into bed."

-

"Do you want to hold him, sweetie?" Not really, but a nudge to your shoulder has you taking a reluctant step forward anyway. You're not sure how to feel about him, he's your dad's but not your mom's.

Mary scoots over a little so you can climb up on the hospital bed next to her, a tired but kind smile on her face. "Here, it's ok, you just need to make sure you're supporting his head.." She helps guide your arms into the right position, placing the tiny buddle into them, a pair of equally tiny disgruntled blue eyes soon staring up at you.

When you were first told that your stepmom was pregnant, you tried really really hard to just be happy for them. You promise. The sinking dread never went away though, no matter how much you berated yourself for feeling that way.

Babies are a blessing, but the announcement only cemented the fact that the world as you knew it was ending. Your dad isn't just your dad anymore. Even then, he hasn't acted like one to you in a while. Maybe you were just denying the inevitable.

"Ohh, I think he likes you.." Mary's head rests on your shoulder suddenly, distracting you from your sullen thoughts. "See? You're a natural with little ones!"

"He's glaring at me.."

She laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as she sits up. "No, he's just getting used to the world, darling. He loves you, he knows he has the best older sibling he could ask for."

-

"What's even the point?" You're both supposed to be sleeping even though it isn't a school night, Aunt Lisa is strict when it comes to things like that. What she doesn't know won't hurt her though.

"Because they look cool," Avery shrugs, carful of the fact you're currently snuggled under one of his arms. "And you get bragging points for catching them." You still don't get it, they're the same thing just a different color. "You've watched me play for like an hour, and now you're bored?"

"You were actually doing stuff before.." You huff, "You've been going around in a circle for fifteen minutes."

You scoff at his comment, now filled with spite to actually beat the game. You've barely moved an inch before the battle music plays, a black and purple pumpkaboo greeting you. "Oh, um..

"I

Well, excuse me," Avery sniffs playfully, "You play since I'm not entertaining enough." The console is handed over to you, the older boy simply holding you closer. "I bet you lose the first match you try."

"Huh?" Avery sighs, quickly pouting when he looks back at the screen. "Seriously? Damm, you're lucky." He pokes your cheek, "You catch it for me and I'll buy you some fries tomorrow."

-

"You're so annoying!"

With how hard you hit the ground, you know you're going to bruise. You weren't even talking, you just wanted to hang out with them.

"Seriously, who even wanted you to come over? I sure didn't!" No matter what you do, Lizzie doesn't like you. Doesn't matter if you're as friendly as can be or give her some space, you're always doing something wrong. "You're wasting good air, you know?"

"M' sorry, didn't mean to bother you." You won't cry, you're too old for that. "Liz-"

"You didn't mean to? Yeah, right!" Lizzie scoffs, kicking dirt into your face. Dust immediately stings your eyes. "You're a pest! No wonder everyone calls you bug, you're clingy like a tick, a parasite."

Your feeble attempt to rub the dirt away isn't really helping, you can barely hold your eyes open enough to look up at her. Miles isn't going to do anything to help either, silently supporting his sister.

"No wonder your dad left you! And your mom, she must be insufferable if you're her kid-"

You don't know when you managed to get up on your feet or when you grabbed a handful of Lizzie's hair. On the bright side, it makes her shut up.

"Hey!"

Your dad emerges from the house, miles trailing behind him. Of course.

"What has gotten into you?" You've let the older girl go at this point, she wasn't even crying until he came outside.

"Ow, dad.." Lizzie hides behind Damien, flashing you a smirk. "I wasn't even doing anything and they decided to be mean.."

Any inking of doubt you had evaporates in an instant. You don't have a dad anymore, you haven't in years.

"God.." He crosses his arms, the stern look would have made you wince if you weren't already shaking. "Don't even try to give me any excuses, Miles told me what happened. You can wait out here for your mom to pick you up since you can't behave yourself. I thought you knew better."

-

"Can you at least try to eat half, please?"

Your plate sits almost entirely untouched, having just been picked at over the course of dinner. Your mom's worried frown won't leave her face. "You're still a growing kid, I don't like how many meals you've tried to skip."

"I'm not hungry." You really aren't, there's always a nauseous feeling in your gut these days. "I'll eat a snack later, don't worry, mom."

"Baby.." She pinches the bridge of her nose and you feel a pang of guilt for how stressed she must be. "Please? For mommy? Or at least talk to me about what's going on.. i- it hurts seeing you so sad all the time."

What are you supposed to say to that?

Against your will, there's tears starting to drip down your cheeks. You don't think you've ever seen the women move so fast, her chair clattering to the floor in her rush to go to your side. "Oh, my baby.."

"I- I'm sorry.." For what you don't know, maybe the fact that she's stuck with you. "I- I'm so sorry, mom-"

"Oh, hush.." You're too big for her to carry, you both know, but she still scoops you into her arms. "There's nothing in the world you need to apologize to me for."

You sniffle, tucking your head under her chin. "I- I don't want to see dad anymore.. or.. or hear about him or-"

"Shhh.." She runs a hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you, "you don't have to, alright? We'll figure it out. If that's what you want, you won't ever have to see him again."

(a/n: some ramblings while I start writing the second part to the series..reader will continue to go through it)

[ippipo]

self aware caleb

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

it was crazy. but it was fun. every weekday as soon as you were back home, you would call him and go about your day. doing the laundry, making dinner, cleaning the house, it just came to you naturally with caleb. it was all so domestic.

"yeah, and she was deranged the entire summer," you gossip with him. "and he kept spreading rumours that he was being abused by his ex to get her attention."

"weird way to get a girl," he remarks. "so fucking weird," you add.

"anyway, how's life in your gameland?" you ask, earning a sigh in response. "it's alright, playing out of script is so much better," he replies.

"i wish you were here," you let it out, the longing for a companion getting to you. "me too," he frowns.

the weekend was slow and slightly relieving because you got all the time in the world to relax. holidays were on their way in a bit, and you were so excited to spend it by doing nothing with caleb.

caleb would sometimes monitor your phone, using it to listen to music from your world and play games. sometimes he would search random things about humans on earth on google just for the sake of it. he couldn't care less about anyone except you.

but one day, he stumbled upon your notes app. he didn't know you used it as a journal, and accidentally opened a note of yours.

it was a note from when you were 13. the language wasn't too advanced but for a 13 year old, it was pretty great. he felt bad for invading your privacy, but he noticed the word 'boyfriend' and became curious.

p.s. this is an actual entry of mine from when i was 13 lmao

"dear notes (idk what to call you lol),

i finally got a boyfriend after a thousand years of waiting. he's a little ugly but he's funny, so it's okay. he is shorter than me but he looks pretty, so plus point. we nearly kissed today but i wanted to wait until i turned 16. but in case i end up realising he's too boring for me, this is what i want in a boy.

he should be taller, hotter, stronger, and waaaay more intelligent than these bozos at my school. please make him rich and fancy. i want generational wealth, not trauma. but even if he isn't rich, don't make him ugly and boring, guys at school already do that. if the spirits can see this, i swear to never kiss anyone until i turn 18,

thank you."

he was giggling like a school girl after reading it. he was so invested in reading some of your other notes until he heard your voice. you were arguing with someone, and he couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"no, i told you that i don't like her. she gives me the heebie jeebies," your voice booms in the room. "but she taught you in 6th grade, be nice and just meet her. her son is your age too, maybe you'll finally find someone to date!" an older woman's voice spoke.

caleb felt uncomfortable with the idea of you looking for someone to date. it didn't sit right with him. he shakes the thoughts away and focuses back on the conversation.

"her son is literally dating my friend," you deadpan. your mom, as he assumes her to be, is dumbfounded. "but be respectful and meet her for the love of god," your mom snaps at you. "she used to literally pick on me, if she died, i would wish everyone a happy new year," this remark of yours makes him snort.

".....y/n, do you have a pig in your house?" your mom questions you suspiciously, making caleb freeze. "no? uh...that was just- i farted!" you immediately cover up. caleb was trying so hard not to laugh. "i keep telling you to exercise to control gas but you never listen. did you know how happy i felt when you left for college because i didn't have to bear with the constant farting at home?" your mom nags.

you panic internally, not wanting caleb to hear about this part of your life. you wanted to crawl into a coffin and bury yourself alive. "it's just a natural process, mom. please, just go home now. i need to complete some work."

as soon as your mom leaves, you pick up your phone. "now listen here you piece of shit, you heard nothing, not even a single damn word," you aggressively tell him. "yes, ma'am," he responds from the other side. "but, i recently heard about someone having a farting problem, although i don't know who."

"caleb!" you warn him. you bury your head in your hands from the shame. he laughs out loud at this.

a few minutes later, he remembers what he did, guilty consuming him. "hey, uh, listen," he nervously calls out. "i might have accidentally read your notes, i didn't mean to. i'm so sorry," he frantically apologizes. great, another reason to kill yourself today.

"...what did you read?" you ask helplessly. "just something from when you were thirteen, about your boyfriend and stuff," he replies casually, as if he didn't just read about your inner demons. "it was cute," he remarks.

"caleb, my love, snoop around the notes app again and i'll make sure you don't see the light of day," you threaten him. he apologizes again, but was slightly amused. "i just hope nothing more embarrassing happens after this or i might just jump off the terrace," you groan.

later that night while caleb was once again, unfortunately curious, snooping around your phone. he was just finding out about different apps. he was about to listen to some music when he heard a gasp. alarmed, he began paying attention to the sound, thinking you were in trouble.

"oh, fuck!" you moan out loud when your vibrator's intensity increases. your body convulsing at the stimulation your clit was receiving. your soft gasps were ever so clear to him. his entire body begins warming up, his pants making him uncomfortable.

he intently listens to your whimpers and whines, imagining how it would be to eat you out. devour you fully and deeply till you're nothing but a beautiful mess, all because of him. his boner getting more painful as time passes by, but he just can't stop listening.

it gets worse when he hears your moans getting louder, indicating your climax. good lord, he was so in trouble right now.

if you knew he could hear every little sound you were making, you might have just gone along your earlier statement.