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#[ MY LOVE IS A TIDAL WAVE ]
baby-xemnas · 6 months
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can i be honest. i am so over one piece posts because of oversaturation, i block the tag, but i will always visit your tumblr every so often because i love the idea and content of bepolaw so much. theyre so good and hot and wonderful. your content specifically. bepolaw real, even if idk jack shit about the series
anon's one piece:
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maybe the real treasure were the bear best friends we kissed along the way
thank you so much for the message ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ makes me super happy that you check my stuff specifically and its an exception :)))))) thats very very nice ♥
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did u know
#i don’t know when i but i’m taller it must be something in the water#i grew up here til it all went up in flames except the notches in the door frame#my recurring dream i’m at the movies i don’t remember what i’m seeing the screen turns into a tidal wave#when the speed kicks in i go to the store for nothing#the house where u lived with snow white i wonder if she ever though the storybook tiles on the roof were too much#the drugstores r open all night the only real reason i moved to the east side#and here everyone knows ur the way to my heart hear so many stories of u at the bar#either i’m careless or i wanna get caught#i can’t open and forget how to talk bcs even if i could wouldn’t know where to start wouldn’t know where to stop#close my eyes fantisize three clicks and i’m home#when i get back i’ll lay around then i’ll get up and lay back down#i know i know i know#like a wave that crashed and melted on the shore not even the burnouts r out here anymore#either way we’re not alone i’ll find a new place to be from a haunted house with a picket fence to float around and ghost my#friends no i’m not afraid to disappear the billboard said the end is here i turned around there was nothing there yea ig the end is here#and now my feet can’t touch the bottom of u#of somebody who loves u more#so i will wait for the next time u want me like a dog with a bird at ur door#and there’s something i’m supposed to say but i can’t remember what it is#and if and if i could give u the moon i would give u the moon#u r sick and ur married and u might be dying#i would do anything for u i would do anything i will do anything#laying down on the lawn i’m tired of trying to get in the house i’m thinking out loud#i’ve been playing dead my whole life#i hate ur mom i hate it when she opens her mouth it’s amazing to me how much u can say when u don’t know what ur talking abt#i feel something when i see u#bcs i don’t know what i want until a fuck it up#i’ll climb through the window again but rn it feels good not to stand#day off in kyoto got bored at the temple looked around at the 711 the band took the speed train to the arcade i wanted to go but i didnt#called me from a pay phone they still got pay phones it cost a dollar a minute
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chiye21 · 6 months
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for the ask meme! zenos; 1, 12, 25? :)
ask meme
Why do you like or dislike this character?
ok well . hoo boy. i dislike him a lot but that's entirely because of how badly the writers handled his story in the actual game. my friend told me about the side stories that were published and like if they'd somehow managed to include those into the game. well i wouldn't hate him as much as i did. but in stormblood he just really felt like such a nothing character to me. like ok u are strong enough to beat the wol easily (no explanation for this) and u just kind of pop up so we can see how much we've grown through stormblood haha wow! can we have anything else? no? ok then.
12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?
i'm gonna be so real with you i haven't thought enough about this guy to have a headcanon for him. he makes me so mad i don't want to think about him more than i have to
25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?
like i said for number 1 he was really just a nothing guy to me. i was mildly annoyed at him bc i was absolutely killing it at the first instance where u fight him but the game was like "nah". and then like tbh i just hated him for a while bc he was very annoying. my friend is very horny for him so i dislike him on principal bc its funny but otherwise i'm mostly ambivalent towards his character, i just get pissed at how the writers chose to put him into the story
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nerosdayinanime · 7 months
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Come Morning Light (you and i'll be safe and sound) while listening to Safe And Sound(capital cities) is so. Auh
theyre the same but so different to the ghosts they loved and remember. the memories drenched in blood and hurt so much- but now theyre right there side by side again. whole and alive. they dont know what to do about it.
they want the other to be the same kid they trained with, the one from happy memories, promising they'll always be safe and sound by eachother's sides- but that kid is dead. the memories tainted red. it hurts, theyre angry and shut off, dont know how to read eachother like they did- their sense of saftey in the other that was left to rot in death, rediscovered as ruins needed to be rebuilt. they want it so bad it hurts, on top of all the hurt they already refused to let go of
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euesworld · 2 years
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"Magic floods my soul when you splash a beautiful smile across my heart like a tidal wave.."
Where's my bathing suit?? Cause I am swimming in your beauty - eUë
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oakdrawss · 2 years
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Clan-Gen is realllly fun . heres my leaders from my 3 clans :] turning them all into ocs cause im crazy
Shrewstar and Shellstar are dead, the colorful ones behind them are their ghosts
Shrewstar and Ivystar are from Tidalclan
Shellstar and Specklestar are Lunarclan
Willowstar is Solarclan
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looking at the goodreads reviews for five's legacy while trying to decide whether to try the audiobooks was a Mistake, because i forgot that 99% of them were from 2014 fandom and therefore unbridled rabid hatred lmfao
reviews: i don't care if they try to make him sympathetic, he's an unlikable spoiled brat!!
me, staring at the kid who literally thought homelessness was a luxury because he could steal food, clothes, and pocket change to watch movies without having all of it systematically taken away from him by someone who controls his entire life; destroyed every one of his drawings for years so he could have them at all for a minute before he did, because if he kept them they'd be Belongings; was eventually found out anyway, and monitored constantly afterward to keep him from doing even that; and still destroys them out of habit years after escaping: ah yes. much brat. very spoil
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mirroredworlds · 11 months
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SEND ME A SHIP: Najeel & Navia
SEND ME A SHIP and I’ll tell you:
Natsu/Gajeel (Najeel)
who wakes up first in the morning Natsu basically gets up with the sun.
who’s the first to fall asleep at night Natsu, due to waking up with the sun.
what they playfully tease each other over Probably stupid shit.
what they do when the other’s having a bad day ...they probably spar.
how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments Food? Definitely NOT punching one another in the face again.
which one’s more ticklish NATSU
their favourite rainy day activities Natsu likes to cuddle so probably that.
how they surprise each other They don't...it'd end with them punching one another.
their most sickening shows of public affection Natsu loves to cuddle so he'll probably make himself comfortable on Gajeel's lap or something.
Natsu/Juvia (Navia)
who wakes up first in the morning Natsu does.
who’s the first to fall asleep at night Juvia can when they're cuddling. Natsu is very warm.
what they playfully tease each other over Juvia likes to tease Natsu about how he's good at baking but sucks at decorating the sweets he sometimes makes.
what they do when the other’s having a bad day Cuddle. Cuddle. Cuddle. Did I mention cuddle?
how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments Cheek kisses, food, and if Natsu's the one who messed up, a bouquet of Juvia's favorite flowers + some handmade raindropc candy.
which one’s more ticklish Surprisingly? Juvia.
their favourite rainy day activities Dancing in the rain. Natsu can just dry them off before they go back inside.
how they surprise each other Juvia sometimes pouncecuddles Natsu when he's not expecting it. Usually while it's raining and he can't really smell her that well.
their most sickening shows of public affection Hand holding, soft kisses, and cuddling. All the cuddles.
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My midweek update. Seinfeld Sunday. Manic (literally) Monday. Tidal wave Tuesday. Feeling cautiously optimistic. Very expo ‘86 of me.
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felidthing · 9 months
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when i was 11/12 my favorite artists were black veil brides and three days grace and taylor swift and the first and only concert id ever been to was lindsey stirling at the state fair and i had a pair of neon blue fishnet gloves that i got at a roller rink and a sixth grade camp hoodie that i wore holes in the sleeves of where my thumbs were because my nails were always long and my hair was incredibly light blonde and hit like the middle of my back and i did godawful purple eyeshadow from an ancient palette i got from my mom and my best friends were #cool emo kids that got to decorate their rooms however they wanted and dye their hair and have pierced ears and noses and i posted about anime on google+ and i watched onision fucking religiously and had an instagram account that i was not allowed to have on my ipod touch i begged my dad for that had a U2 album on it i did not ask for but itunes forced on me and i had to skip the songs every single time they came up when i was listening to black veil brides
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daughterofthetis · 10 months
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cassidy tag dump
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theblehthatbloos · 10 months
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You cannot understand the amount of crushing disappointment I just felt reading through someone's profile and thought I read that they were a devout chaotic as their religion. I'm in shambles.
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tojisun · 2 months
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so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly
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thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.
it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself—doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.
they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.
it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?
simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”
and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?
if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—
it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.
“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.
“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.
simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…
nothing.
he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.
you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.
simonsimonsimon—
your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.
(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)
you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.
“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.
“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”
his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.
“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”
simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”
he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.
“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”
“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.
simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—
“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.
it’s so good! so, so good!
simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.
fuck! fuck—
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sorta pt 02
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toruslvt · 3 months
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  TO THE HILT
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⋆ wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette + fem!reader.
 ⋆ mdni. knotting for the first time, breeding kinda, creampies, lots of pet names n praising like baby, sweetheart, darling, good girl, my love, wife ( zhongli,,, we all act surprised ), pussy drunk neuvi. no proofread ;(
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WRIOTHESLEY
the first time Wriothesley knots you it almost happens like an accident, the duke, —too lost in the warm and tight clutch of your pussy around his cock, continuously smacks his hips against yours, the sound, filthy and wet resonates through the walls as his balls slam on your ass; that, or at least you think it’s his balls until they start to push in, a tiny bit with each thrust into your cunt.
“W-wrio?!” you gasp, genuinely terrified and quickly raising on your elbows to watch the engorged base of his cock, red and swollen, pulsing in need to release.
“t’s alright, baby, I got you, relax” he huffs back, sweat trickling down his forehead and sticking the dark locks of hair against his skin, “is just my knot..., you’ll take it, yeah? it’ll feel so good, I promise”
“I-i don’t think it’ll fit...” you squeal, thighs spread wide and hooked from under by your boyfriend’s strong muscular arms, spreading you wider for his hips to comfortably slot between yours for what was about to come.
“yes it will, sweetheart” it’s almost imperceptive the tiny hiss Wriothesley let’s out at your words, cock throbbing inside your dripping walls, continuously spurting precum that messily connects your bodies, “trust me, alright? i’ll take care of you” he grunts, eyes about to roll back from the sheer self control he puts on himself as not to fill your tight hole with his knot at once.
steadily he begins to push it into you, a thumb finding your clit and rubbing in right circles, helping you ignore the continuous stretch “fuck!, your body is so responsive” Wriothesley groans, eyes drifting between your pleasure contorted face and the way your cute pussy struggled to take him whole, fluttering wildly and gushing slick.
like a tidal wave, your orgasm takes you over hard, eyes crossing and back arching the second a soft 'pop' was heard and Wriothesley’s knot was fully wrapped by your quivering walks.
“good girl” he rasps, raising your thigh to push just a tiny bit deeper, enough for the air inside your lungs to get knocked out and Wriothesley’s cum to coat your insides, “told ya it’ll feel good” it comes as a whisper against your neck, followed by the warm and wet feeling of your boyfriend’s tongue under your ear, “i’ll knot you every time we fuck” he promises, “until you get used to it”
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ZHONGLI
at least with a warning beforehand, you knew what to expect as soon as Zhongli was balls deep into your cunt.
“breathe, my love” he keeps you grounded, a hand on your mound, gently and kindly rubbing your clit until you’re impossibly wet and slick to ease the pain of his knot, another in your nipples, pinching and tugging for your moans to turn into high pitched whines.
“you’re doing so well, my beautiful wife” Zhongli murmurs low, almost an exhalation as his hips start to pick up his pace again, gently pushing the engorged base of his cock inside your pussy, covering your whimpers with his fleeting kisses.
“that’s it, i’m almost done” always so reassuringly, even though you can barely stutter out his name through the pleasure daze, it’s surprising how much control Zhongli has on his own emotions, maintaining that calm facade although his brow often twitches and cock throbs between your folds.
“Zhongli...” you manage to croak, throat hoarse from the intense screams and moans of his name slipping past your lips.
“yes, I’m here” he breathes, leaning down to brush his lips across your jaw, yet his hands continue their assault on your sensitive spots, one extra rough tug on your nipple and his knot is tightly snuggled inside of you, “there we go... so good, my love”
“can you feel me inside your pretty pussy? i’m so deep, my love, I need to fill you fully as you cum on my cock, can you do that for me?” Zhongli whispers, so tenderly and a whole lot opposite to his lewd words.
and you really don’t need much to cream around his cock, a few humps into your sensitive and overly stretched pussy and you’re screaming his name, body convulsing and milking him for every drop of cum directly into your womb.
“my gorgeous wife, you did an amazing job” Zhongli murmurs between ragged gasps, a low hum of satisfaction brewing from the depths of his throat as he finally stops coming inside of you.
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NEUVILLETTE
something you expected was for Neuvillette to be eager to please, what you did not expect, was for the man to completely and utterly lose his mind as soon as his name came out of your lips like a prayer.
you feel exposed, slightly embarrassed by how tightly Neuvillette keeps his grip on your waist, maintaining your arms steady on both your sides as he plunged into you from below, the bed slightly creaking under the shared weight and inhumane movement.
“my love, my beloved” he murmurs, lost in the sensation of your tight pussy clenching around his cock, keeping him flush inside your walls like he kept you against his sweaty chest, “you feel divine” Neuvillette moans, eyes closed and diving into the sensation, he always got this way, lost in pleasure, drunk in love with you and the squeeze of your cunt.
“i need to be fully inside of you” it comes like a breathless whisper, almost a beg, “will you allow me?” he swallows, “to claim you inside and out?”
you can only nod, way too quickly and barely register the meaning behind those words, but Neuvillette’s eagerness picks up, loudly smacking his hips against your own, the sound muffling your own screams and his grunts.
his tongue comes in contact with your nape, licking a fat strip across the skin of your shoulder and softly nibbling on it, slightly turning you around so you’re now laying on your side with a thigh spread and above his own.
“Neuvi... please” you cry out, nails digging into your palms in frustration, but the beautiful sound of his name coming so desperately from your lips is enough for the man to allow you to move, freeing your hands and instead, coming to hold your hips, rocking you back and forth against his cock and knot that slowly sinks inside of you.
“hold onto me” he rasps and you try, sobbing onto the pillow as your hands reach back, fingers wrapping tightly around Neuvillette’s wrists in an attempt to ground yourself.
ever since the first time you had sex with your lover, you were aware of his dragon anatomy, and how desperately his instincts kicked every single time he was balls deep in your dripping cunt, so at least, the surprise wasn’t that big as your breath hitched and hole fluttered impossibly fast, attempting to swallow his knot.
it seems like all coherent thought leaves Neuvillette as well, since his continuous mumbling of praises turned into groans and moans as his cock coated your insides with thick cum, messily, — much against his usual composed self, humping your pussy, attempting to keep you stuffed and satiated as the last tremors of your orgasm subsided.
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Your Touch
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Ghost x Reader
Ghost likes getting his back rubbed at night.
SFW, Extreme Fluff, Back Rubs, Cuddles, Pre-established Relationship, Hurt and Comfort, Touch-Starved!Ghost, Ghost is soft and vulnerable in this, Drabble, Scarcely Proofread
How about some fluff amidst all the smut I've been working on. 💞
Masterlist
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"I don't quite know how to ask this, but..."
Simon's eyes dipped down quickly from yours, back towards the ceiling, a sudden rush of shyness and vulnerability running through this large, deadly man like a tidal wave. Once a suitable amount of seconds had passed, he turned his body to face you, the entire bed shifting against his form and tugging at the covers.
"...Could you rub me?"
Your lips curve into a crooked and playful smile as you turn on the bed to face him, your hands resting comfortably sandwiched between your head and your pillow.
"Rub you?" You say, fingers playfully beginning to sift through the covers towards his lower half. "Your wish is my command, Si'."
Your hands have just reached the waistband of his sweatpants when you suddenly feel a strong grip gently take hold over your wrist.
You hesitate at first, immediately fearful that you've suddenly overstepped a boundary or done something wrong; since beginning your relationship with Simon, you've done the most to be respectful of his pace. If he wished you to stop then you would, no questions asked. But you catch his eyes -- dark brown orbs half-lidded and wavering. You knew this had been something else.
He could have you continue; go on with feeling your skin slide against his before you've found the better parts of him you'd been yearning for. Have your small fingers dance and tug at him until you've pulled the night-time exhaustion he'd been looking for out of him. He could have that happen and have no complaints at all. He knows he always could.
And yet he holds your hand back, keeping your touch as far away as his brooding gaze had suddenly become.
"Not that," he says. "Not tonight at least, love. I meant rub me like..."
Like the first night you ever rubbed him. A night spent longer than most together in bed wrapped in one another's arms. Your breathing was a soft tune his ears could follow along to as he rested, your arms better than any blanket he could have.
As he laid on top of you, an innocent gesture on his part, your hand slipped beneath his shirt. Before long he had felt your fingers softly glide over the most neglected parts of his back, tracing small lines and circles.
Touch never came gentle to Simon; it has always been a sick and harmful thing. To feel a touch now so sweet and with care, without even having to ask, the man had felt unworthy by nature. And mostly he had felt sorrow, in many degrees beyond its own self. 
If this is what a loving touch had truly felt like -- like safety and peace -- it turned his stomach at times to be aware that he never felt such a thing in his life until now. Not from anyone beyond his mother. A short-lived time that left as quickly as it remained. But nothing had been this. He knew that the moment he felt you.
He remembers not wanting that night to ever end. And he remembers how fast it had put him to sleep as well. Since that day he's silently enjoyed your hands running against him innocently, never quite finding the strength to ask you outright to do it more often until now. 
What had made tonight different, he couldn't say. But even now, with your hands in his, patiently listening to him, he just wanted you to touch him more. Extend your body out to him and remind him of his own humanity.
"I don't know how to describe it..." Simon says, though he'd partly been lying.  He could describe in full detail what he wanted if it didn't make him feel so frail doing so.
But you smile, seeing the bashful glint in his brown eyes and understanding the man's hesitancy to be more upfront. "I understand."
You slip your hand from him and gently curve it over his body beneath the covers, scooting your way over until your short arms finally manage to reach his back. 
Your fingers gently comb over his skin, grazing him faintly with your nails, as you've begun to let your hand trails up his spine from the lower half of his back all the way up to the base of his neck. You let your finger pass each link of his spine beneath his skin, feeling the goosebumps you had risen over his entire body. 
Simon lets out a gruff groan and sinks into your arms, letting his head begin to nuzzle into your chest, and giving you a better angle to rub him. "You're too good to me love," he says. 
His continued little adjustments only make you laugh. "It's the least I can do for you, Simon."
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A/N: I'm participating in Kinktober somewhat, but I might mix in more fluff and angst pieces as well. Just to throw in some variety ^^
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pucksandpower · 14 days
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Meet Me at the Met
Lewis Hamilton x up-and-coming singer!Reader
Summary: in which you go head over heels (quite literally) during the most important event of the year and end up right at the feet of none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton himself
Warnings: minor injury
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The roar of the crowd hits you like a tidal wave as you step onto the iconic themed carpet of the Met Gala. Flashing bulbs from countless cameras nearly blind you as you blink rapidly, trying to adjust. Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it thrumming in your throat.
“Over here, honey!” A photographer calls out, gesturing for you to turn towards him. You pivot gracefully, the layers of shimmering tulle from your Maison Margiela gown swirling around you.
“Work it! Look this way, sweetheart!” Another shouts, snapping shot after shot.
You take a steadying breath, channeling every ounce of confidence you can muster. This is your first Met Gala, the biggest night of your fledgling music career so far. One misstep could be disastrous.
Your publicist Samantha appears at your side, perfectly put together as always in a sleek sheath dress. “You’re doing great,” she murmurs with an encouraging smile. “Just keep smiling and be yourself.”
Nodding, you continue gliding down the iconic path, pausing at the designated spots to pose for the ravenous paparazzi. An elegant string of Bulgari emeralds adorns your neck, glittering mesmerizingly under the bright lights.
“Miss! To your left please!”
You turn obediently, the intricate beadwork on your deep blue-green gown catching the flashes. Despite the oppressive late spring humidity, you refuse to let a single drop of sweat show. This night is too important.
After what feels like an eternity, a security guard appears to usher you up the final flight of stairs and into the main event. With a brilliant smile plastered on your face, you make your way carefully up the steps, lifting the delicate train of your dress to keep from tripping.
Suddenly, one sparkly heel catches on the fabric and you’re thrown off balance. Unable to catch yourself, you tumble head over heels back down the stairs, gasping in shock and pain as you land hard on the ground.
There’s a collective intake of breath from the crowd as you blink up at the bright lights, thoroughly stunned. Your vision is blurred and there’s a sharp throbbing in your head. When you try to push yourself up, bolts of agony shoot through your right wrist.
“Oh my god, are you alright?” A deep, accented voice sounds from beside you.
You turn your head and your breath catches in your throat. Crouched beside you in an exquisitely tailored double breasted suit and wool coat is arguably the most handsome man on the planet. His beautiful coffee-colored eyes are filled with concern as he reaches out to gently brush a loose strand of hair from your face.
“I … I think so,” you manage to stammer out, though your pounding head begs to differ. “Just clumsy, I guess.”
Despite the sheepish grin you attempt, a wince of pain crosses your features as you shift positions. Lewis’ brow furrows and he places one large hand on your bare shoulder to keep you still.
“Easy there, love. Don’t try to move just yet,” he soothes in that rich baritone that has melted millions of hearts. “You took quite a nasty fall.”
You nod mutely, unable to tear your widened eyes away from his handsome face. This couldn’t be happening … could it? Did you really just faceplant in front of the entire world and, perhaps more importantly, your celebrity crush?
“S-Sorry,” you whisper, utterly mortified. “I’m usually much more graceful than this, I swear.”
Lewis chuckles warmly and you feel your cheeks flush. “No need to apologize, darling. These things happen to the best of us.”
Nearby, Samantha is frantically trying to wave over security and a medic, her expression pinched with worry. You groan quietly as another stab of pain lances through your skull. Definitely a concussion, if your swimming vision is any indication.
“Let’s get you looked at, yeah?” Lewis murmurs, rising fluidly to his feet.
Before you can protest, he slips one arm behind your back and the other under your knees, cradling you gently against his firm chest. You suck in a shocked breath at the sudden movement, instinctively reaching up to grab onto his shoulders for stability. His Burberry suit is buttery soft under your fingers.
“Whoa … y-you really don’t have to carry me,” you stammer out as he easily lifts your frame.
Those rich brown eyes meet yours with an amused glint. “I insist. Can’t have one of the brightest new voices in music getting any more hurt, can we?”
You bite your lip shyly, unable to hold back a small smile of wonderment. Is this really happening right now?
“I’ll be fine, honestly,” you try again as Lewis maneuvers around the gathered crowd, heading for a discreet exit with Samantha close behind. “Just a little banged up.”
“Your wrist is already swelling, love,” he points out with a frown. “Best to get it checked properly, yes?”
“I … yeah, okay,” you acquiesce quietly, not having the energy or brainpower to argue with him further.
The two of you disappear through a door and down a mercifully empty hallway, leaving the stunned crowd and flashing cameras behind. Samantha is rapidly conversing with security to locate the nearest medic station.
“Thank you,” you murmur, letting your head rest wearily against Lewis’ shoulder. Up close, he smells incredible — like crisp bergamot and just a hint of expensive cologne. “For helping me, I mean. I’m sure you had better things to do tonight than playing knight in shining armor.”
Lewis smiles down at you, eyes crinkling in a way that makes your heart flutter unexpectedly. “What a coincidence, I just so happen to be a knight.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling shy under his warm gaze. “Lucky for me then, I suppose.”
“Indeed,” he agrees with a wink. “Though I can’t take all the credit. That dress is clearly too stunning for us mere mortals to handle.”
A watery giggle slips past your lips before you can stop it. Even slightly concussed and in quite a bit of pain, you can’t deny that foreign flutters are dancing in your stomach just from being in Lewis’ presence. He’s even more charming in person than you ever could have dreamed.
“You’re too kind, Sir Hamilton,” you tease lightly. “But I’ll be sure to leave the couture gowns at home next time.”
Lewis opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by Samantha hurrying over with a young medic in tow, his kit already open. The worried expression on her face deepens when she sees your obviously injured wrist cradled against your chest.
“Thank god you have her,” she exhales in relief, nodding towards Lewis. “What do we know so far?”
“Took a pretty hard fall down those stairs,” Lewis explains calmly as the medic kneels down to begin his assessment. “She was unconscious for a moment and seems to have injured her wrist as well.”
You wince as the medic gently prods along your forearm. “Definitely a sprain at the very least,” he confirms. “And with the way her pupils are reacting ...”
He shines a small light into both your eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. “I’d say mild concussion too. We should get her to the infirmary for further evaluation, just in case.”
Hearing his words, a small wave of panic crashes over you. Missing any part of tonight because of this would be devastating. You force yourself to sit up straighter, ignoring the way the room spins sickeningly.
“No, no I’ll be fi-”
“You’re not going anywhere but to get checked out properly,” Lewis cuts you off firmly, placing a staying hand on your shoulder. His expression brooks no argument. “Head injuries are nothing to mess around with, love.”
You open your mouth to protest again, but Samantha quickly interjects. “He’s absolutely right. We’re not taking any chances with your health.”
As much as you hate to admit it, they do have a point. If your condition really is as serious as the medic suggests, it could be dangerous to simply brush it off. You let out a resigned sigh, wilting back against Lewis’ sturdy chest.
“I suppose you’re ri-”
Before you can finish your sentence, a sudden dizzy spell washes over you. Bile rises in your throat as the room tilts crazily. Your voice trails off into an anguished groan as you squeeze your eyes shut, fighting off waves of nausea.
“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting you looked at immediately,” Lewis declares. He shifts you effortlessly in his arms and strides down the hallway, the medic and Samantha hurrying to keep up.
The rest of the journey to the infirmary is a blur. You’re vaguely aware of being transferred to a gurney and giving the doctor on staff your information. Lewis’ worried face keeps appearing in your line of vision, his voice a soothing balm against the incessant pounding in your skull.
Finally, the doctor confirms that while your concussion isn’t serious, you definitely need to be monitored overnight. A brace is fitted around your sprained wrist and you’re given strict instructions on managing the symptoms over the next few days. Throughout it all, Lewis remains stubbornly by your side, declining offer after offer to return to the main event.
Thoroughly drugged and exhausted by this point, you can barely keep your eyes open as a wheelchair is brought over to transport you out to the car waiting area. Lewis helps you into it carefully, crouching down in front of you with a tender expression.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble miserably, gesturing vaguely to your bandaged wrist and slightly dazed state. “I’ve completely ruined your whole night … your entrance, your photo ops … everything.”
He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head adamantly. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. I’d take meeting someone as wonderful as you over all of that any day.”
You blink up at him in surprise, an embarrassed blush staining your cheeks. Did he really just say that? Lewis Hamilton, world famous athlete and heartthrob, thinks you’re wonderful?
“Still,” you protest weakly. “This is supposed to be your night to shine. And now you’re stuck playing nurse for a clumsy fool.”
Lewis arches an eyebrow sternly. “I think you’ve bumped your head around a bit too much, darling. That’s no way to speak about yourself.”
He reaches out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, his calloused fingertips grazing your flushed cheek with unexpected tenderness. Your breath catches in your throat at the gentle gesture.
“Missing out on some silly party is more than worth it to me if I got to meet someone as lovely as you,” Lewis continues honestly. His eyes are filled with sincerity. “The only thing I’m upset about is that you were the one who got hurt.”
You’re rendered speechless for a long moment, completely disarmed by his words. Never in a million years could you have imagined this kind of scenario playing out tonight. Is this all really happening?
Finally, you manage a weak smile, blushing furiously under his warm regard. “You’re too kind, Sir Hamilton.”
“Please, call me Lewis,” he insists with a wink. “And let me know where you’re staying, yeah? I’ll come by tomorrow to check on how you’re doing myself.”
Your eyes widen in surprise and you quickly scramble to recall the name of your hotel. “U-Um, the Lotte New York Palace,” you stammer out shyly. “But you really don’t have to do that ...”
Lewis waves off your protest easily, rising to his feet with a soothing grin. “Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all. I’ll be by with some breakfast to make sure my favorite new artist is being properly taken care of.”
With a final wink and dazzling smile, he steps aside to allow an assistant to wheel you towards the exit. Your head is still swimming, though you can’t blame it entirely on the concussion this time.
Did Lewis Hamilton, actual living legend, really just say he was coming to check on you tomorrow?
You allow yourself a tiny, bewildered smile as the night breeze washes over your heated cheeks. Somehow, despite all the mishaps, this crazy night had turned into something straight out of the kind of romantic comedy you secretly loved.
Perhaps falling on your face in front of the entire world wasn’t so disastrous after all.
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