#.......gonna really need to work on that last one there!!

[luveline]

Hello! If you are in the mood for it, I’d love to read some more hurt/comfort w zombie au Steve! Is it bad I love when reader gets hurt? Maybe she almost gets bitten and can’t run away for some reason, or if you have another idea that is better (my brain isn’t working rn) thank you! Have a lovely day, be kind to yourself!

zombie au | fem, 1.3k

“Ready?” 

Steve kneels, offering his palms braced ready for your foot. “Ready.” 

You take a running start and press your foot into his palms, gasping breathlessly at the sudden weightlessness of his strength underneath you, pushing you up as your hands scrabble for purchase at the top of the wall. Steve does his best to help you all the way over, on his tiptoes no doubt as he pushes the bottoms of your shoes and forces you onto the second story. 

Your hands ache. The floor is cluttered with chunks of plaster that bite your skin as you struggle onto your knees. 

“Anything stand out?” Steve asks from below. 

There’s a vinyl player cracked and on its side by the wall, a shelf of albums in faded disarray beside it. You climb onto your feet, careful of the warped floorboards and the darkest mould of water damage to the right side of the room. “Uh, there’s a lot of stuff up here.” 

The bed is sinking into itself, once pink sheets turning an unfortunate orange from sun and weather alike, the wardrobe spilled and sprayed in all directions. Any clothes worth wearing will be in the dresser on the dry side of the room, or through the door and in another bedroom. “I think there might be pajamas and underwear and stuff in the dresser. I don’t know how I’m gonna get you up, though.” 

“I’ll look for something. Be careful, okay?” 

You turn to the edge, peering down at Steve with a small smile. “Yeah, okay. Shout if you need me.” 

“Sure.” He smiles back. “Seriously, be careful.” 

“There’s not much in here.” 

“That hasn’t stopped you getting yourself hurt before.” 

“Is that snark I’m detecting?”

“Baby, when I get up there,” he threatens without heat. 

You blow him a slightly uncharacteristic kiss and wave your fingers at him. 

You and Steve work in a quiet tandem clearing the house for things you can use. You have a rather large list of things you’re going to need soon; underwear for both of you, socks, some pants that will actually fit Steve, soap, a bedroll or anything that could work as one, batteries for the radio, a torch, etc. The list goes on. 

The underwear situation is dire. You’ve started wearing boxers in lieu of any better option. Steve says he likes the look of them —you can’t believe him sometimes. You have hair on your thighs and the boxers aren’t a cute look, the last time he tried to kiss your stomach you both realised you had a streak of dirt on your ribs you’d failed to scrub away in the stream. You never, ever feel clean, but it doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t find you pretty. Same way you find him handsome in his holey jeans or with enough grease in his hair to fry your cuts of rabbit. 

The dresser proves hopeful. The top drawer has underwear that at first glance seem too small, but when stretched have enough give to work out fine. You won’t find boxers in here for Steve and you aren’t sure he’ll like the hipster cut of the panties you pocket. “Steve?” 

“Yeah?” he calls. 

“I’m gonna go see if there’s more bedrooms.” 

“No, hey!” He comes running into the living room below you, looking severe. “Hey, wait for me first, you don’t know what’s up there?” 

That’s why you’re going to be cautious. “Steve, I have the knife, and we would’ve heard by now if there was a geek up here,” you say, heading back for the door, “they’re pretty loud when they–”

You’re flat on your back before you’ve even really opened the door. 

As urgent as things may be, the second you realise it’s a geek on top of you, you can’t stop yourself from thinking you deserve it for being so smug. And then you start screaming. 

It’s a gnashing, gnarly mess of black gore and greened skin, the stink of it turning your stomach, it’s weight heavy and hard on your chest. Fuck, it hurts more than it scares you, all snapping, faltering teeth. Trapped. You squirm and shriek, your panic turning to rage as you slam your hand into the things throat and push it upwards, away from you, but it’s so fucking big —why is so huge? You shriek again as its teeth snap at your hand, but you’re not completely useless, not fully, pulling the knife from your shallow pocket and flicking it open one-handed like you’ve practiced. With a cry, you slam it as deep as it’ll go into the geeks neck. Miss, you pull it out and slam again, looking for the stem. You must stab the thing ten times before it stops grunting and goes still, your lips crammed tightly shut as blood gushes down its back and the ridges of your arm. 

You realise Steve’s screaming your name in the quiet. 

“Answer me!” He shouts. “Are you okay? Answer me!” 

You pant. “Fine! Fine, it didn’t bite me!” Heat pools behind your eyes anyways, the memory of its teeth grazing your hand startling. You push at the body, needing to analyse your hand, quickly, there’s still time to cut the whole thing off— 

You’re trapped. 

“Steve, I can’t get it off me,” you say, squeezed and panicking, “I can’t move, I– I can’t–”

“No, no, baby, it’s okay, I’m coming up! I’ll be right there, I’m gonna be right there!” 

It takes him ten minutes. You devolve into a frenzy of panic and defeat, trapped by such a monstrous thing. It must be four hundred pounds of gored decay. You can feel it wetting your clothes. 

Steve eventually clambers up onto the bedroom’s weak floor with a groan and a frantic, “Babe!” 

“I’m fine!” 

He drags himself across the floor, throws himself at the geek to push it off of you, and it’s so heavy full of water or mould or whatever it is that’s inside these devils that you have to push as hard as you can beside him before the geek sags onto its side and releases you. You’re crying great shuddery tears as you flop into Steve’s embrace, his chest moving like a hummingbirds under your cheek. 

“Sorry!” you say, clutching him tightly. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” he says back, between gasps that sound painful. Still, he attempts gentleness. “It’s okay, you’re okay, it didn’t get you? Are you sure? Let me look, honey, I need to see.” 

You twist away to let his gaze run over your neck and face. “My hands,” you offer. 

“I can’t tell. I– you’re covered in fucking blood.”

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. It’s–” If it bit you, you’re dead already. Steve clutches you so hard that you’re worried your head is going to pop off of its stem. “Why can’t you just be careful?” he asks quietly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why can’t you–” He cuts himself off, his nose digging into your ear. “It didn’t get you?” 

“No. No, I don’t think so.” 

Steve pushes you away from him far too quickly for your liking, but you forgive him when you realise he’s checking your hand against the light coming in from down below you. If you were bitten you’re sure you’d feel it by now, and if there were teeth marks in your hands, he’d see them already. 

“What the fuck is that thing?” Steve asks in a mutter, pressing your bloodied hands to his chest. 

You bite your lips. “I,” you say softly, terrified and tired and thankful your new underwear is still clean on the dresser, “don’t have a fucking clue.” 

[hitmeharderandsofter]

heyyyyyyy can you do a fic where Billie is on set for a shoot or something and it requires like a lot of girls around her (like the lost cause mv) and there wearing like skimpy clothes. and at the end of the day y/n in so jealous of attention... maybe a smutty end🙏 (also this probably makes no sense... sorry)

hiiiiiiiii anonnnnn!!! (ur like my first legit ask and this makes me so happy omg)

warnings: dom!billie, fingering, clit rubbing, dirty talk, name calling (slut, mama, baby, whore, and love), bad writing, NOT PROOFREAD I'M SORRY, and a kinda soft and smutty ending

ANON I'M SO SORRY IF THIS IS BAD 💔

LOST CAUSE

music blasts throughout the multiple fake rooms and a fit of giggles erupts from a certain part of the set, so you walk over and see a huge bed with billie sitting right in the middle between a group of girls.

flashback (?)

when she told you she was filming a new music video, you obviously wanted to see behind the scenes.. yet, this was something you weren’t expecting.. you knew your girlfriend wasn’t the type to show off much skin or really anything, so walking in on her wearing a light blue satin pajama set was something very new, at least to the public it’d be new.

It was as if something snapped inside of billie when she cut and dyed her hair blond, she didn’t care what the public/media had to think about her new appearance or attitude.. and you loved it. one thing you noticed is that she had become more reckless.. fucking you in her car, grasping at your body (preferably your tits) just so the paparazzi would take a picture, she didn’t care, she just thought it was funny.

so after announcing the MV to “Lost Cause”, she knew exactly what to do. 

present 

billie looks directly at you as all the girls rub their hands all over her body, a small smirk appearing on her face. she knew it was just working you up, this whole music video was one big tease for you..

one girl wraps her hand around billie’s neck and whispers something into her ear as the camera pans to her face, causing her to let out a soft moan. you roll your eyes as the scene unfolds and storm off to her dressing room where you patiently wait for her.

after a couple of hours, you slump down on the mini sofa in defeat but there’s a small ache growing between your thighs.. you were picturing the way how the satin set clinged to billie’s body and how her tits were practically on display, plus, she wouldn’t know if you touched yourself in her dressing room right?.. not like you truly cared to begin with, you just needed to take care of yourself as your girlfriend did her thing..

so being the horny person you are, you slowly slip off your pants and immediately start rubbing at your clit. little did you know billie was on her way to her dressing room since filming was officially over, her hand hovered over the knob as she heard strange noises coming from inside.

“o-oh fuck billie p-please..”

is this bitch fucking serious?

billie swings open the door and sees you spread out, fingering yourself..

“b-billie!-”

“you fucking slut huh? I was just trying to film a music video”

you quickly remove your hand away from your clit, “i-i can explain i swear-” “no, walking in on you touching yourself in my dressing room is enough for me”

she scoffs before prying your legs open and sits herself between them, “god what got you this wet?”

“I was watching y-you and I saw how p-pretty you looked-”

billie rolls her eyes and shoves your panties to the side, plunging two fingers into your tight cunt. “aw, so you just had to touch yourself to the thought of me?”

you shyly nod your head, “I-I should’ve w-waited I'm sorry-” “well clearly if you tried you wouldn’t have lasted long anyway, plus, it’s cute seeing you worked up like this baby…”

billie peppers light kisses up your body, her fingers still pumping in and out of you

“billie i-i’m gonna cum..”

“yeah? be a good whore and cum for me love..”

you feel that familiar knot in your stomach build up before your pussy flutters around her fingers. billie, being a filthy girlfriend, licks her fingers clean..

“you taste so good, did you know that mama?.. I’d fucking kill for this pussy of yours..”

she quickly fixes your lower half and notices your dazed state, her fingers gently brush through your hair. “did so well for me love..”

[navydoves]

Smile for the camera, love!

summary: too caught up in his paintings and suffering from major art block, you suggest a different type of artistic expression for rafayel, photography! yet, the new hobby backfires on him as you start to dictate what goes on his camera roll.

cw: subby rafayel, you’re a pervert lmao, you’re also the dominate one, explicit but no sex, masturbation, dirty talk (just very slightly mean), eroticism, artistic expression of pleasure, sticky messes

a/n: i don’t know anything about cameras so bare with me on the terminology. not proof read, excuse mistakes 😢 enjoy!

“so… what is it?”

you furrow your brows at rafayel a give him a strange look.

“it’s a camera, what do you mean what is it?”

“i mean… what am i supposed to do with it?”

you take the heavy powershot out of rafayels hands and point it at him with your eye in the viewing lens. you deftly click on the side button and take a quick picture of rafayel’s dumbfounded face before turning the camera around to show him.

“you take pictures with it.”

“i know how cameras work! i’m asking why you spent so much money buying me one, did you forget i paint and not take silly little photos?”

you gave rafayel the camera back and smile teasingly at him. it wasn’t unusual for rafayel to have art block, in fact, his art blocks spanned so debilitatingly long that you practically had a protocol for comforting him and helping him gain back inspiration.

the list went:

1. bring rafayel to the beach and play in the waves with him. the feeling of water against his skin and sand underneath his feet sometimes brought him new ideas.

2. give rafayel a makeover. seeing cosmetic shades brought about new waves of thought for what colors he should use next in his paintings.

3. dance with rafayel. your bodies moving together in symphony cleared his head of aggravating thoughts and made him want to paint in reverence of you.

4. sleep with rafayel. sometimes, he was just grumpy. he needed a nap.

but when plans one through four didn’t work this time, you found yourself at an equally frustrating spot with rafayel. you really did hate seeing him so stressed or unmotivated. he needed his spark, and like the good girlfriend you were, you were gonna help him find it.

“you’ve handled a camera before, rafa. it’s nothing new. just take a few pics here and there and maybe it’ll help you out. don’t you want to get my moneys worth for it?”

“i didn’t even ask you to spend that much…” he mutters underneath his breath. “i’ll pay you back, how much was it?”

“i don’t need—“

“how much was it?!”

⭐︎

it had been a couple days since you last had seen rafayel. whenever you couldn’t see him, you messaged or called him enough times to keep him company, but the last few days weren’t like that. there was an influx of wanderers within the last few weeks and with a few rookie hunters injured on the field, the more experienced ones were put on the job as replacement. despite your exhaustion, you knew you needed to make time for rafayel. you missed him and from the sad emojis he would send you throughout the day, you knew he missed you too.

you unlocked the door to his home with your spare key and looked around the entrance of his large estate. probably still in his studio, you assumed. you brought a small bag of baked cookies from the hunter association as an apology for being so absent. with the bag in hand you strolled through his house to the closed studio in the back.

“rafa?” you call out softly after opening the door. you look around the room and find him standing in front of an oversized canvas with buckets of untouched paint around him. those weren’t there before. he turns to you and frowns somberly before motioning eagerly for you to come in. you walk in and set down the bag of cookies on a table before moving to embrace rafayel.

“rafayel, what’re you doing? how long have you been in here?” you ask with a worried expression growing on your face.

“i’ve been trying to paint.” he simply responds. he turns to you and embraces you back while pressing a kiss to your forehead. “where have you been? i’ve missed you.”

“i told you, i had emergency hunter missions to do. have you been in here since i last saw you?” rafayel ignores your question and purses his lips in consideration.

“did your missions have to take that long? i’ve been so lonely. this canvas is mocking me, yknow? it’s plain whiteness is blinding me and i don’t know what to do.” you sigh and pull back from the hug to look around the messy studio.

“where’s the camera i gave you?”

rafayel motions to some corner in the room and grumbles, his complete focus was on the canvas before him.

“somewhere over there, i think.”

you felt a pang of disappointment that the item had been discarded so easily. did he not like it that much? you head to the corner and find the camera underneath a few random silk fabrics. turning it on, you swipe through the settings and head to the gallery to look at the photos—if there were any anyway.

to your surprise, there were hundreds upon hundreds of photos saved onto the camera roll, all of rather random things. there were pictures of his furniture, little bugs on the sidewalk outside his house, nail polish organized in color order, broken glass, a street sign, it went on. the disappointment in your chest faded as you realized that rafayel really did try with this, but apparently to no avail.

oh well, you thought. he’ll get out of this slump at some point, he always did.

you sigh and point the camera up at rafayel who was still studying the empty canvas in front of him. he was deep in thought, it looked, and the camera captured every beautiful detail of his face. he was a natural.

“rafa, over here. give me a little pose.” you chuckle in hopes of lightening him up. he stilled awkwardly before letting his body relax and posing for you. you clicked a picture and pulled back the camera to see how you did. your pupils dilate at the photo, rafayel looked so effortlessly handsome before you.

you shift your perspective and kneel a little bit to take another picture of him, this one being an off-guard one. even with his attention on something else, he held a gentle beauty that made you almost revere him a little bit.

“hey, love, how about you take a break from the painting stuff and play with this camera with me?” you ask hopefully. he turns to you and frowns before shaking his head.

“i already tried taking photos and everything was pathetic to me. i don’t think it’s gonna help.” he responds.

“no, you don’t have to take any pictures. i wanna take them. this camera is actually really nice, i wanna put it to good use if you’re not using it.”

rafayel raises an eyebrow at you but resigns to your suggestion. he knew he needed a break from… doing nothing. that’s what exhausted rafayel the most, doing nothing. he preferred it when he was busy because it meant he had inspiration and passion, feelings that he basked in. but devoid of that right now, he would rather be doing anything else other than wallowing.

“what’re you gonna take pictures of?” he asks while putting his paint brush down and moving toward you. he seemed to be genuinely curious in your newfound interest.

“can i take pictures of you?” you ask. rafayel sputters a bit and scratches the back of his head.

“why… why me?! there’s plenty of fish in the sea to take pictures of.”

“well because you’re my boyfriend and i love you. don’t you want to be my muse?”

and that’s all it took for rafayel to give in. being the focus of your attention was like a blessing for him, but being your muse was a compliment worth reveling in, he would do anything to just keep your eyes on him.

you situated rafayel to the middle of the studio room where the most space was and moved back several feet to get a wider, landscape view of him. you crouch down just slightly and smile at the uneasy expression on his face.

“just relax, let loose, im not holding a gun.” you tease while adjusting the camera lens in hopes of getting a more high quality look. rafayel pouts at your words but surrenders to you and the camera in your hand. he shakes his limbs in attempts to let off some built up stress within his body and strikes a casual pose where his hand laid on his hip gently.

you snap a picture without much worry, knowing the quality and angle of the camera would do nothing to sabotage rafayel’s looks.

“you look beautiful, just keep doing that.”

rafayel blushes but your praise encourages him to continue. he nods and strikes another pose where he turned away from the camera and tilted his head back for an almost flirty look. you giggle and snap a few more pictures of his movements before looking up at him.

“am i…. doing good?” he asks rather shyly while shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“you’re doing perfect, rafa. just keep moving around and maybe i can get some candid shots.”

you look back into the camera lens and snap several more pictures in the course of a few minutes. you could tell rafayel was gradually easing up and getting more comfortable with this, even going so far as getting on the floor and blowing cheeky kisses.

a deep sense of satisfaction resonated within you from how loose and relaxed rafayel looked. this past month had been difficult for him so seeing him all playful and eager to do something so silly with you was refreshing. he felt the same.

“oh, oh. how about this?” he smiles and lays on his stomach, heave propped up on his palm and legs crossed over each other in the back. you laugh and nod your head.

“giving the camera a show little i see,” you tease.

“mmm, no. i’m giving you a little show, cutie.” he responds with a giggle.

“really? a little show just for me? i have some requests then.”

“yes? what is it?”

“unbutton your shirt.”

rafayel’s eyes widen at your sudden request. embarrassment burns his ears and cheeks at the thought of you photographing him while he was showing more skin. he looked down at his simple white button up and considered what to do. did he really want to be on camera like this? he would never do this by himself, but for you? he’s too devoted to say no.

“was this all a plan against me?” he mumbles with a pout while unbuttoning his white top down to the bottom. “i can’t believe you’ve gained more silly tactics, you’re dangerous!”

you took a few shots of rafayel unbuttoning his shirt and then a few more of his bare chest once he was finished. you glanced up at him and shrugged with an amused expression growing on your face.

“i wasn’t planning anything, it just so happens to be that i really like the camera, and the camera really likes you. now, strike a pose.”

rafayel hesitantly moves around and juts out his chest toward the angle of the camera. your happy little noises urged him to continue despite the welling shyness in him. it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him in states of undress before, he was your boyfriend after all. plus, all you did was bathe was with him in your free time, anyway. but it was just something about the camera that made it different.

“yes, yes just like that. your skin looks so smooth, you’re glowing,” you purr.

“is it really that good?”

“mm, yeah. you’re quite the centerpiece.”

you snap a few more pictures of rafayel’s pliant form, a few of them focusing on the chest and above. you look up from the camera again and bite your lip. this was so erotic for you and you didn’t want to stop anytime soon.

“now… unbuckle your pants, tease the camera a little bit.”

“m...my pants?!”

“yes, your pants. art is all about identity and candidness, right? what’s more that than your body?”

rafayel’s lips widen at your frankness. you were using his beliefs on art to get him to get him to be all cheeky and provocative with you. and he… he was… he was going to listen!

he looked down at the thin belt looped around his pants and slowly undid the buckle. he could hear the soft camera shutter sounds at every movement he made, like he was some sort of celebrity on the red carpet. he slides it through his pant hoops and shoves it aside. then, he undoes the zipper of his crotch and bites his lip; he was getting dangerously close to being extremely exposed.

“continue, baby,” you whisper.

“everything?”

“everything.”

he continues by sliding his pants off his his legs slowly and then hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. he glances up at your smiling, aroused form as if to ask: this too?

you give him a signal to wait and take several camera shutters of him in his boxers. every part of his pale skin was milky and smooth on the camera lens except for this face, which was a nice shade of pink. after you were satisfied with your photo lot you motion for him to continue and he quietly listens. you were almost surprised that there was no more refusal on his end, maybe he was finding this enticing too.

he slips off his boxers and then the shirt that draped from his arms and tosses them aside. he was completely naked now, body tense and shifting on the floor in nervousness.

“you’re quite the model, you look so beautiful.”

“flattery will get you nowhere! no one can see these photos.”

“oh that’s the least of your worries, no one gets to see you like this except for me.”

you adjust the camera center to captures the enticing indent of rafayel’s V-line and then move the frame lower to his soft cock. you giggle softly to yourself as you took several pictures of his little flounder that flopped around as rafayel shifted.

finally, you decided to shift your position in the room to get different lighting and angles of your model. rafayel watched you inch around the room while continuing to take bounds of photos.

“you’re really getting into this…” he mumbled while averting his gaze from the camera.

“you should be too, you’re a natural model. just relax.”

rafayel sighs and scratches his nape. he was having a lot more fun than his face gave away, even if he was a little embarrassed at this new kind of play between you two. relenting to you for what seemed like the hundredth time today, he listened to your words and to let loose.

every movement of his showcased the curves of his lean body, the indentations of his muscles, the stretches of his smooth skin. even his hair was a natural at falling perfectly into place to frame his pouty, soft face.

“yes, perfect. so sensual.”

your low purr made a jolt of electricity run through rafayel’s body. he swallows and feels himself wanting to please you in every way, wanting to satisfy your every command. his cock starts to bounce a bit from excitement, slowly growing half hard and pink by his thigh.

“is my precious boy getting excited from all these pictures?” you jest upon seeing how his cock bobbed through the lens of the camera. you zoomed in on it and took a secret recording of how his erection grew.

“y…yes, ‘m getting a little horny…” he admits with slightly shaky voice. you grin eagerly and zoom out to capture his full body.

“show the camera just how horny you are then.”

rafayel groans softly and wraps his hand around his growing cock. he moves from ballsack to tip with every stroke, stimulating himself for his audience of one. creamy pre-cum dribbles down from his blush pink tip and coats his cock, creating an echo-y wet sound within the studio.

rafayel tilts his head back and whimpers. your camera caught every movement with either a video or snapshot, no part of your beautiful boy went un-captured.

“feel good, yeah? you like showing off?”

“mngh, yeah ~ feels so good. c...come closer if you really wanna see.”

you perk up at his invitation and move within rafayel’s circle quite swiftly. your camera angles from beneath him, catching the underside of his flushed erection. you zoom in with precision until the entire screen of the camera was just rafayel’s cock being masturbated by his hand. you groan softly at the sight but try not to get too caught up in your own aching body.

rafayel looks down and smiles weakly at you. he found it a little amusing how you had gotten so into this, but also very erotic how much you enjoyed seeing him in pleasure.

“mmm, your cock looks so delicious on screen, love. you can really see every vein on ‘ya.”

“really?” he murmurs with a lazy smile. “let me feed you then.”

you quirk an eyebrow and inch closer to rafayel. he moved his cock to the side so the camera could get a clear view of his face from a downward angle. he grinned down at the camera, at you, and then taps his cock on the lens, completely covering every photo and clip you took with his tip. you gasp softly and moan softly. you reminded yourself to reprimand him for dirtying your new camera later, but for now you enjoyed the sticky look on the screen.

“you’re filthy,” you grin.

“fuck yes, i am.”

rafayel steps back and gets down on his knees again. he leans forward and presses his cheek against the floor and then lifts his hips up in the air like a kitty in heat.

“get me in this angle too ~” he sings in-between his musical moans. you immediately stand and go around him to continue your paparazzi on his body. you noticed how his back arched so beautifully into the floor and how nice and plump his ass was while swaying in the air.

“you’re quite the slut, aren’t you? showing off your ass and cock to the camera like this.” you give his cheek a nice good slap causing rafayel to yelp out in pain. he reaches his free hand back and rubs his ass with care.

“h…hey no fair! i’m sensitive yknow!”

“oh i know,” you purr, “but i’ll spare you.”

you click the record button on the camera and zoom out to catch rafayel’s body amidst the messy room. he was still fondling his cock and squeezing the life out of it for the camera. the self stimulation partnered with your recordings and praise made him ache and coat the floor in even more arousal.

“you’re making a mess baby,” you remark with a grin. you zoom in on the on the clear puddle growing underneath rafayel and snicker. he was too far gone now to pay mind about how dirty was being.

“don’t care…” rafayel whimpers softly, “feels too good.”

you watch him lift his hips and curve his hand into circle as a way of creating a makeshift hole. he thrusts sloppily into his hand and groans, secretly imagining it was you who he was sinking deep into. his balls slapped against his hand with each thrust, creating loud clapping sounds that reverberated throughout the studio and was perfectly caught on video.

you kneel again so that you got the perfect angle of his bouncing cock and balls from behind. he stuffed the small opening of his fist again and again until an orgasm welled up within his navel. sensing the climax, you zoom the camera in to the tip of rafayel’s cock and watch as creamy spurts of cum squirt out of him.

“fuck fuck fuck, i’m cumming! i’m cumming, agh, fuck.” rafayel paints the floor underneath him in more of his liquids. white streaks run down the tiles and seep into a few cracks of the studio floorboards. his eyes wire shut but yours blow open at the erotic scene before you. your breathing hitches and small, gruff moans leave your lips as you hold back from pouncing on the vulnerable rafayel.

“oh, rafayel…” you whisper breathlessly. you stand and put the camera down to get a real look at him. he was on his back like a flopped fish, sweat and cum glistening on his rapidly rising and falling abdomen. he was a beauty even so overwhelmed and dazed. “…who told you to stop?”

rafayel’s eyes flutter open to meet your deceiving gentle ones. the small smile on your face, the warm look in your eye, the blush on your cheeks. he was getting that post-orgasm affection where all he wanted to do was hold you a—

“wait, huh?” rafayel’s thoughts were interrupted when he finally registered your words. you chuckle and lean over lower to stroke his flaccid cock. his body twitches harshly and his hands come down to yours to stop you.

“i asked, who told you to stop? i’m gonna need more from you, love.”

“r…right now?! i’m so tired c…can’t i have a break?!

“nope. i have meetings early in the morning with the association, meaning i’ll have to leave sooner or later. until then you’ll have to please me. you discarded this camera so you can’t blame me for using it when you won’t.”

rafayel whines loudly. he brings his forearm up to his eyes and covers them as he begins to stroke himself again. the sudden stimulation to his cock right after an orgasm makes his lithe form jolt and writhe around on the floor, but he presses on. you pull back in satisfaction and bring up the camera to your eyes to catch every moment of his second round.

“that’s a good boy, rafa. make yourself drip for me.”

“‘m trying!”

“trying what?”

rafayel whimpers. you see could how his lips quiver just like how his body did.

“t..trying to be a good boy for you…”

you smile triumphantly. your teasing words obviously had an effect on rafayel from the way his cock from hardened just your voice. more beads of pre-cum formed at his tip and made for nice lubrication for the rough fist fucking rafayel about to do. that was, until you stopped him.

“hold on now, i want to get get a good shot of the prize here,” you kneel in between rafayel’s legs right where his aching cock was and turn the camera to yourself.

“let’s take a good look of how beautiful our rafa is,” you say with a wide grin as if talking to an audience. you flip the camera back to rafayel’s cock and zoom in to better see all of the details of him.

“h…hey! this isn’t fair, you’re having too much fun!” rafayel exclaims after finally peeling his arm from his eyes and looking down at you.

“and you’re not? i know you’re enjoying this, love. the camera tells me everything.” before rafayel could continue to protest you begin your inspection with a trace of a finger down a subtle vein on his cock. your ghostly touch shuts him up immediately because he’d rather have you actually touching him and not have to bed. “the skin of rafayel’s cock is very soft,” you narrate to the camera, “and it’s also very warm, almost burning. is that right rafa? you feel hot down here?”

you tilt your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him but his forearm was back on his eyes to shield him from the overwhelming scene.

“don’t worry he’s just shy,” you continue. you bring your finger up the base of his cock and to his tip where you gently rub the pad of your finger on his small hole. “and here we have rafayel’s pretty pink cock head. it’s rather thick and has a nice, slippery texture to it. let’s give it a taste.”

you lean forward and wrap your lips around his tip and suck like a lollipop causing rafayel you cry out and rock his hips up. you still his forceful hips with your hand and quickly pop off his cock.

“i see someone is eager,” you giggle. “that was such a sweet taste, let’s see what else you have to offer.”

you move your attention and the camera down to his ballsack and cup them gently with your palm. “and these are rafa’s shiny pearls. they’re so heavy with semen, are all lumerians this potent?”

you rhetorical question is met with a small whine from rafayel. he really, really wants to move and feel more of your hands on him but he knows if he does, you’ll stop completely. his mind his foggy with feelings of lust and exhaustion. usually he has more stamina, but the energy used toward “fixing” his art block has sapped him completely before you ever could.

“b…baby, stop teasing me so m..much. i can’t take it anymore, n..need to cum…” rafayel mumbles out with a weak voice. “please, baby, please.”

“oh you’re begging to continue now? you were just protesting that you were too tired. which is it love?” he whines again and shakes his head violently.

“no! no! i…i want to! please?” you chuckle underneath your breath and throw your hands up innocently.

“you hear that guys?” you ask the camera. “our precious boy wants to make himself cum, how fun. let’s all make sure to pay attention to the show he has to offer.” you turn the camera back to rafayel and get up from where you were knelt between his legs. slowly, you back away until rafayel’s pliant body was fully in view. “cmon, show us what you got. you can’t shy away now.”

rafayel sits up with wide eyes that would almost look innocent if it wasn’t for his raging hard on and sticky body. he crawls to where you were in the room and sits on his calves right in front of the camera, acknowledging it fully for the first time. he no longer looks for you or at you for pleasure, but through the lens of the camera knowing you were behind it watching.

he wraps his fingers around his cock and gives a strong squeeze making him whimper softly. he doesn’t waste his time with teasing strokes and goes straight into rapids pumps that make an obscene noise throughout the room.

“wanna cum for you, wanna be so good for you,” rafayel drawls out between broken cries.

“yeah? wanna make a mess for me?” you mock.

“y..yeah, wanna give you my orgasm… ‘m so sensitive…”

overstimulation comes back to overwhelm rafayel’s body, causing a few stray tears and growing cries to escape rafayel. as much as he wanted to tilt his head back and screw his eyes shut, he forced himself to make direct eye contact with the camera for the sake of a show.

“tease your tip. i know how sensitive you are there.”

“o..okay..”

rafayel’s thumb flits over his cock head which sends out violent bouts of pleasure throughout his body. he cries your name out loudly through choked sobs and sniffles. not only was rafayel a natural model, but he was a natural pornstar too apparently.

“that’s it baby, you’re doing so well. gonna cum soon? you’re so overwhelmed ~”

“y..yes! gonna cum soon! j..just for you!” he wails while moving his other hand to pinch one of his nipples. if his senses weren’t overloaded before, they definitely were now. his breathing heavies loudly and before you could praise him again for being so gorgeous in this pornographic state, the first few ropes of cum spurt upwards from his cock.

“i’m cumming, i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”

the thick and potent semen from his cock comes out more violently than before. rafayel’s voice was lost to pleasure as his orgasm completely takes his ability to moan or cry. he instead sits there with his back arched and eyebrows knitted upwards in complete and utter pleasure. before the load was completely finished, he manages to find some strength within his body and arches back to point his cock at the camera.

from your end, you see sticky lines of thick cum drip down the lens and coat the outside of the camera, making for a grand finale to the video. needlessly to say you were incredibly horny and (more than) decently surprised at rafayel. you couldn’t even utter words so instead you decide to hit stop on the recording and put the camera down. couldn’t use it anyway with all that creamy nonsense on it.

rafayel’s eyes flit back into his head as his body gives out and falls back onto the floor. he whines and cries under his breath as the remnants of his high still tormented him within his shrinking cock. you take pity on your sweet boyfriend and his willingness to please you. now it was time for you to take care of him.

“you okay, my love?” you ask after kneeling down to the floor and cupping his face. he looked so dazed but managed to nod at you.

“‘m fine… been through worse… like waiting those eight hundred years for you…”

“what?”

“what?”

you laugh softly and quirk an eyebrow at his antics.

“i think all that pleasure has gotten to your head. are you sure you’re okay though? i can run you a bath and take care of those muscles before i leave for the night.”

rafayel frowns a bit, he forgot you had to leave. too tired to complain about it, he accepts it for once and turns his frown into a gentle smile. his eyes open to full attention and focus on you from the floor. there was that affectionate again. it was seeping into his heart and making him want to pull you into a day’s long cuddle.

you notice how endearing rafayel looked like this— dazed in pleasure and vulnerable in front of you—and you have just one more urge to fulfill. you reach over to the the yet again, discarded camera and try to wipe some of the still dripping cum from its lens. you stand directly over rafayel’s body with it and giggle softly as you put it up to your eye. the lens was foggy from remanent stickiness, but you thought it added more story to the gallery of photos behind it.

“Smile for the camera, love!”

⭐︎

yet another few days pass since you last saw rafayel. you replayed many moments of your erotic night together from memory because you left the camera with rafayel. it was still his gift, after all. but today was the day you agreed to see him again because you has another bag of apology cookies up your sleeve and a promise to not be busy anytime soon.

you unlock the house door, stroll through his common rooms, and head to the back where his studio was. still in here, you presume.

you open the door and look around to see rafayel standing in front of an oversized canvas. deja vu.

except, at a closer look, you see that the canvas had actual color on it as opposed to the blank white that had been there last time. you place the bag down on a table and walk up to rafayel. he doesn’t seem notice you until you were right up next to him, and when he does, he jumps into your arms.

“cutie! you’re finally here! i’ve missed you so much! you can’t keep disappearing and trying to buy me off with food, yknow? anyway, i need to thank you. look at this!” he gestures to the large canvas covered in blue, pink, and purple, delicately painted so that the darkest values outlines a male form drowning within the mixture of colors. a large smile grows on your lips that matches the same gleeful one on rafayel’s face.

“i can paint! i can paint again! thank you!” he cheers before going back in for another strong embrace. you squeal in surprise but giggle right alongside him.

“yes! you can paint! why are you thanking me, though?”

“for the camera!”

“the camera? it actually helped?” you ask in disbelief while pulling back from the hug.

“yes! i looked through all of the photos and videos you took the few days ago and it inspired me to paint what i was feeling. the documentation of everything really helped me relive that moment and put it into paints.”

your mouth goes a little bit agape but internally you couldn’t feel any happier for rafayel. the excitement on his face was worth every penny you paid for the camera (even if he did pay you back). you look back ar the canvas and smile fondly at the distant form resembling rafayel.

5. make homemade porn with rafayel. it helps him channel his pleasure and depict it beautifully onto a canvas.

a/n: the entire time i was writing this it went:

“we’re so back guys 📈…. it’s so over man 📉”

anyway, leave feedback if you can… i’m still new to tumblr lol xxx.

[inuiiwonderland]

Empire

Being crowned as empress of the Yuunkaedangon empire at the age of 17, you begin to start loving the new status and power. But it soon gets a bit boring and demanding the moment you turned 18. Harem? Heirs? Tf not!

Chapter 2

Words:1.0k

Fem reader but I don’t really say any she or her in this.

-

Being an empress has started to get a little boring now if you’re being honest. You frown at the stack of books and papers you had sitting on your desk. You turned to your attendant with a pout. He only shakes his head with a soft sigh.

“It’s the only way you can keep the higher ups from demanding an heir at the moment” He says calmly. You sigh as you pick up your writing equipment.

Bill passing….

BORING!

“I’m too young to have a child” You muttered. A little annoyed.

“Having kids isn’t all that bad, but I get why you’re upset”

You hum softly.

Now this isn’t you saying you hate kids or anything! You think they're alright, a little needy and loud but overall okay.

It’s just

You aren’t ready

“Ah I’ve had a talk with one of the higher ups earlier and he said that your consorts need ladies in waiting” You perk up.

“Ladies in waiting?”

“Mhm”

“I guess you’re right. Plus, it’ll be nice company for them since I’m not always gonna be there”

“Great. I’ll tell the higher ups tomorrow and have them assign them their own”

“Make sure they do background checks. Can’t have creeps and unworthy people working for my lovely consorts now can I?” You say. Your attendant nods.

“By the way, how’s your son?” His eyes lit up. He then goes on a rant about how his son is currently taking swordsman lessons and that he's getting better day by day. You smile.

At least now you can slack off just a little bit!

-

You watch as the last of the few ladies and men have been brought into the throne room. You eyed every single one carefully, some shivering under your watchful eyes as others seemed confident or uncomfortable.

“These are the best candidates the higher ups were able to gather last night” Your attendant, atsushi bows before calling out the first person up.

Both Riddle and Leona watch carefully at every single person that steps up. Listening closely to every single thing that comes out of their mouth along with their appearance, how they carry themselves, etc.

“Ace trappola! Young man from the Queendom Of Roses, good talents are cleaning, tending animals, and……card tricks?” The boy, “Ace” stifles a laugh but was given a stern look from his older brother which made him stop.

Riddle can already sense that he’s big trouble while Leona could really care less.

You get a good look at Ace.

He’s average height, fair skin, fluffy orange hair, and scarlet like eyes.

Not bad

And you won’t lie, he’s kinda funny.

You turn to riddle, wondering if he’ll take in trappola as a lady in waiting.

Riddle can already feel your stare on him. His cheeks turn a light pink at your stare.

“I’ll take him” He mutter softly. Small pout as he looks away. Leona scoffs.

“Excellent! Next”

After what seems to be hours (years even)

Your two lovely consorts have each of their own ladies in waiting.

Riddle: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Cater Diamond

Leona: Ruggie Bucchi, Jack Howl

Once everyone was satisfied with their choices, your attendant dismissed the ones who weren’t chosen. You walked down to greet the new ladies in waiting with a soft smile.

“It’s nice to have you young gentleman here” You say. The boys jumped before quickly bowing to you. You smile.

“Now you know that each of you will be staying with and taking care of my two precious consorts right?” Riddle turns a bright red as Leona looks away. You can tell your charms got to him by how he fiddles with the hem of his sleeves.

“I hope you guys take good care of them!……or else” You gave them a menacing look. The five boys gulp, before nodding their heads. Some of them held a look of determination while a few….looked a little scared.

Perfect!

“Great! I’ll have my lovely attendant escort you guys back to your pavilions” You gave each concubine a kiss on the cheek before making your way out. A happy go lucky look on your face as the ladies in waiting can only look at each other and shiver in fear.

What a scary empress!

-

It’s been two months since you’ve gotten your consorts their ladies in waiting.

And it’s going great so far!

….

…..

Kinda

Riddle has been having trouble with Ace lately- scratch that, he’s been having trouble with him since he entered the heartslabyul pavilion.

He’ll rant to you about him every time you stop by and visit. You’ll just massage his tensed shoulders and whisper sweet words in his ears until he stops and relaxes.

Other than Ace, the other two don’t trouble him at all! Very good care takers, cleaners, and cooks!

Leona on the other hand, doesn't have any trouble with his ladies in waiting.

They’re patient, quick and ready to do anything he needs, and very good cooks!

Happy wives, happy life!

Not wives yet

Now speaking of wives, you are currently reading a letter from a high end family that wants their son to be a part of your harem.

Ha….you haven’t gotten one of these in months

“The Ashengrotto Family” You mutter. You paced back and forth in your home office as you read the letter.

“He’s the son of a very high ranking merchant. His mother owns a very successful restaurant somewhere near the east side and his stepfather is an ex military official”

“Mm”

You haven’t taken anyone in after Leona. And your vassal keeps pestering you to grow your harem.

Weirdos

Maybe it’s finally time to take someone in again!

“Schedule a meeting for tomorrow in the afternoon” You yawn out, ready to end this busy day and go to bed.

“Already done”

“Huh?” You turn around to see your attendant wearing a prideful smile.

“I know you will agree!” He says.

Eh?!

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm! Now go get some sleep, Mrs. Ashengrotto is very excited to meet you tomorrow!”

“You’re killing me”

“No”

“Yes….”

“By the way, are those papers done yet?” He asks.You froze. He raises a thick brow as he patiently waits. You batted your lashes at him as you sway side to side.

“Y’knowwwww you’re right! I should get some much deserved sleep, don't you think?” You slowly walk closer to the exit, still making eye contact as your hand slowly inches closer to the door.

“Y/n” he says sternly.

“Bye bye good night!” And with that you make a quick escape.

“Y/n!”

atsushi only sighs before a small smile creeps up upon his face.

“Just like their old man”

-

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If you want to join the Taglist, feel free to tell me!☺️

If you have any questions or anything about this AU don’t be afraid to ask!

ALSO TYSM FOR 1k FOLLOWERS!!! LOVE YOU ALL AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!!!

Can you guys see how reader cares for them? 🫣

[sweetdispatch]

3 pieces of sweet tart with caramel and chocolate covered coffee beans

Little Quick - M. Rempe

v' bakery pairing: Matt Rempe x fem!reader summary: You and Matt ended things between each other after summer just to later discover that he was seeing his teammate's daughter with whom he had to live now warning: none note: i've had this idea in my head for really long time so for the story, Quick had a kid in high school

It was a casual fling for you and Matt. You two met each other through friends and this immediately worked. Openly, both of you agreed on a fwb relationship because no one wanted to go into a relationship. You were focusing on getting your degree and Matt was focusing on hockey. It was a fun summer for both of you. 

Little did he know that he’ll see you every single day from now. When the New York Rangers called him up to the team from Hartford, he knew that he’s gonna be living with Quick and his family. That was their mutual agreement. The minute he returned from training, he spotted you sitting in the living room and helping you siblings with homework. 

You heard the steps behind and you turned around to see Matt with his training bag. Before you could say anything, your dad spoke. 

“Y/N meet Matt, he’s gonna be living with us while he’s playing in the team” Quick said and you smiled not knowing what to do. “Matt, this is my oldest daughter Y/N. You didn’t meet her last year because she was in Europe on student exchange” Matt waived awkwardly at you. 

Thankfully for both of you, Rangers had a week-long roadie so you didn’t have to see him and he didn't have to see you. At the same time, you two knew that you have to talk about this and sort things out so it doesn’t look suspicious. It was tough because your mom could sense the tension but you were saying that it’s nothing. 

When Matt returned home, you ignored him as much as you could. You knew you had to talk with him but you didn’t want to. You enjoyed his company in summer and some feeling showed up towards him. You tried to act like it’s nothing but his presence in your house was telling you otherwise. 

Matt desperately wanted to talk with you. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in your own house but you were making up excuses all the time. In his head, he was thinking about the sensual relationship you two shared in summer. He regretted nothing, only the fact that he didn’t know who your father was. 

On Sunday, you had a family dinner with Matt. It was an awkward situation between you two and everyone could tell it that you don’t like him and he doesn’t like you. This was far from the truth. Both of you shared feelings for each other but after summer, you two stopped talking thinking that this would save us from the relationship none of you wanted to be in. 

Knowing that you can’t ignore him any longer, after everyone became busy, you dragged Matt to your bedroom to have the long avoided conversation. 

“We need to learn how to act with each other” You spoke when you closed the door.

“Okay, how?” Matt asked you.

“Well, I don’t know but we need to stop acting suspicious around my parents” You sighed. 

“I’m afraid it’s not gonna be an easy task” Matt took a step closer towards you “I still remember the way you taste” He whispered to you. You closed your eyes and looked down.

“Matt… we can’t” You said with hurt in your voice.

“Why?” You didn't answer him. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t want this” You looked at him but no words came from your mouth. “That’s what I thought” 

“What do you expect? You want to sneak out and act like teenagers? C’mon we’re adults. It’s ridiculous” You protested.

“I would say, let’s just try and see what’s gonna happen. If this will work, we would have to tell anyway” Matt proposed. You were thinking about this for a minute. 

“Fine but if we get caught up, I’m blaming you and you’re the one to explain this to my dad” You said with a serious tone. 

“Everything’s gonna be fine. Trust me. He won’t find out” Matt replied and leaned down to kiss you. 

What you two didn’t know was the fact that your parents already suspected that there’s something between you and Matt. They weren’t that clueless like you two thought. When you two sneaked out after the dinner, your parents followed you and were standing behind the doors, listening closely to the conversation.

[pixiefelixie]

𓆝..°°𓈒 ⋆ (필릭스) : REMEMBER THIS SUMMER "SUMMER DAYS"

𓆉 °°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ synopsis felix is living the summer every teenager dreams of, with a perfect beach house on the east coast of australia and an even more perfect girlfriend. by taking the best of both worlds, felix invites her to experience the world he grew up in to make this the best summer ever. amidst bonfires, romantic sunsets, and seagulls, felix has one goal this summer: to finally tell her he loves her. with just one week to do so, felix is met with a challenge to make his feelings known before time runs out. 

pairing: nonidol!felix x fem!reader, series warnings: this work is explicit and NSFW so minors do not interact!, established relationship, fluff, smut, injury mentioned (jellyfish sting) important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior, especially among minors, that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction. Reader discretion is advised.

wow, i can’t believe this is over. writing this story was such an experience. these characters feel like a part of me now, and it’s honestly kinda heartbreaking to say goodbye. but i just wanna say thank you for reading! this series will always stay with me, and i hope it stays with you too. i’m really gonna miss this. 💙

series masterlist

previous

nsfw warnings and chapter under the cut ~16k words

warnings: a lot of you wanted another smut chapter so here ya go loves!!, underaged sex, non-penetrative, making out, handjob (m. receiving), MDNI!!!

day 8 - 6:40

your knuckles hovered over the door, your fingers curling, then loosening again. the weight in your chest hadn’t budged since you left the apartment, and standing here now, it only grew heavier.

it was early. too early. the sun had barely started its climb into the sky, casting long, sleepy shadows over the quiet street. felix was still curled up in bed when you slipped out of the room. you hadn't left a note. you’d be back before he woke up.

hopefully.

you’d texted chris earlier, needing to talk, and he’d responded quickly. already up, he said. and so, you found yourself standing here, not entirely sure why, but knowing that this moment was unavoidable.

chris answered faster than you expected. he ran a hand down his face, blinking against the dim light, his curls a chaotic mess like he’d just tumbled out of bed. his t-shirt was wrinkled, the fabric twisted against his shoulder, and the drawstring of his sweatpants hung unevenly—proof that he had, in fact, not really been fully awake when he texted you back.

“hey,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep. his gaze flickered over your face, slow and assessing. 

you exhaled, some of the nerves tightening in your chest easing at the sight of him. “so much for already being up when i texted,” you said, eyes flicking to his mussed hair.

chris made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle, stepping back to let you in. “i was up,” he grumbled, rubbing at his face again. “just—laid back down for a second.” he stretched his arms over his head, joints popping as he yawned. “i have to go to the boat shop with my dad soon anyways.”

you stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you, and immediately, the house’s quiet warmth settled over you. the faint scent of coffee lingered in the air, mixed with something softer—fabric softener, maybe, or the remnants of last night’s rain slipping in through the open kitchen window.

“am i bothering?” you asked, glancing at him as he wandered toward the kitchen.

chris shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “no, no, you’re fine,” he assured you.

his house smelled like coffee, faint but warm, like it had been brewed hours ago and left to linger. the quiet hum of the fridge filled the silence as you stepped into the kitchen, chris trailing behind you. 

chris lifted the milk frother slightly, raising an eyebrow in silent question. you nodded, murmuring a quiet “thanks,” and he nodded back, turning his attention to making you a cappuccino. the soft whir of the machine filled the space between you, the early morning quiet settling in comfortably.

a moment passed. then, casually, chris said, “so, i take it things are good with you and felix now? considering you didn’t ditch us yesterday.”

a quiet breath of laughter left you, your fingers curling over the edge of the counter. “yeah,” you admitted. “we figured it out.”

chris snorted. “so the idiot finally told you how he feels.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the way your lips twitched into a smile. “yeah,” you murmured. “he did.”

chris snorted, shaking his head as he slid the finished cappuccino toward you. “’bout time.”

you curled your hands around the warm cup, inhaling the soft scent of espresso and steamed milk. chris watched you, the teasing amusement in his gaze fading as he took in the way you hesitated. his arms crossed over his chest, brows pinching just slightly.

“so,” he said, quieter now. “what’s wrong?”

you wrapped your hands around the warm cup, watching the steam curl into the air before meeting his gaze. and for a moment, you weren’t entirely sure how to answer.

“i’ll just get straight to the point.”

“go ahead”

“it’s about mabel.”

chris stilled.

it wasn’t dramatic. he didn’t flinch. he didn’t jolt back like you had struck him. it was smaller than that—quieter. the barest flicker of something in his face, so brief you might’ve missed it if you weren’t watching so closely.

but you were.

and it was enough.

you were right.

“i know what happened to her.”

he exhaled sharply through his nose, pressing his lips together. he didn’t ask how you knew, but he didn’t have to.

“and no, felix didn’t tell me,” you said before he could assume otherwise. “i found out myself.”

chris dragged a hand over his face again, but this time, it wasn’t just frustration—it was something deeper, heavier, something tangled up in the years he had spent standing by felix’s side, watching him unravel and piece himself back together.

“i feel terrible about it,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “not just about what happened, but about—about everything. about how young she was. about how young he was when it happened.” you swallowed, trying to press down the tightness in your throat, but it didn’t budge.

“i don’t feel right, chris.”

his brows furrowed immediately. “y/n—”

“i mean it.” you let out a breath, staring down at the cappuccino, watching the way the foam swirled with each subtle movement of your hands. “i keep thinking about how i’ve been waiting for him to just say it. to tell me he loves me. and i was so caught up in wondering why he wouldn’t, why it was taking so long—” your throat tightened. “and the whole time, it was her.”

chris inhaled sharply, arms tightening across his chest. his jaw twitched, like he was holding something back, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should.

your grip on the cup tightened. “and felix…” you hesitated, your voice threatening to waver. you clenched your fingers around the warm ceramic, grounding yourself. “he must have felt so horrible. losing her like that. it must have been—god, i can’t even imagine how hard it was for him to find someone else after that.” a slow exhale left your lips, shaking at the edges. “to trust someone else. to let himself feel for someone else.”

the silence between you grew heavier, pressing into your ribs, wrapping around your lungs like a vice. chris still hadn’t spoken, but the way he looked at you—carefully, calculatingly, like he was waiting for the moment you’d either break or pull yourself together—made your stomach twist.

you let out a sharp, uneven breath, shaking your head. “and chris, it’s different.”

his brows pulled together, but he didn’t interrupt.

“they didn’t break up,” you continued, your voice raw. “she didn’t leave him. she didn’t hurt him. she just… died.” the word felt ugly, brutal, but there was no use softening it. “she was taken from him, and if she hadn’t been—” you swallowed hard. “who’s to say he wouldn’t still be in love with her?”

chris’s lips parted slightly, like he might argue, but you kept going before he had the chance.

“and that’s probably why he couldn’t tell me he loves me.” your voice cracked, and you hated the way it did, but you couldn’t stop now. 

chris exhaled slowly through his nose, tilting his head back slightly as if the weight of your words had struck him harder than he’d expected. he looked at you for a long moment, his gaze steady and focused, but there was a shift in the air now, a tension that you couldn’t ignore.

“you’ve got it all wrong,” chris said, his voice low but firm. his tone was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade.

you blinked, the words hanging in the air like an unsolved puzzle. “what?”

the question came out before you even had a chance to stop it, but you couldn’t help yourself. this wasn’t how you thought it would go. you had said it—you had put it out there—and yet, now chris was looking at you like you didn’t understand anything.

“you really don’t know anything, y/n.” his voice was quiet, almost like he felt bad for you—for the fact that felix never gave you the explanation you deserved.

he took a step toward you, his posture stiff, like he was trying to steady himself, trying to keep his own emotions in check. but you could see it—the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was about to burst with something unsaid.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. the pieces in your mind were starting to shift, but you couldn’t make sense of them.

chris looked like he was struggling with something, like he wanted to tell you more, but was holding back—like he was protecting something that wasn’t his to protect anymore.

you finally whispered, your voice small. “what are you talking about?”

he met your gaze again, the conflict in his eyes still there, but now there was something else—a flicker of anger, a flash of something you couldn’t place.

“mabel was not some angel.” he stopped, swallowing, and for a second, you thought he might say more, but he didn’t.

you shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your brain, trying to understand. “but chris, i—”

“no,” he interrupted, his voice low but urgent. “felix and mabel had a very… interesting relationship. and when i told you before that she screwed him over, i meant she actually did.”

your stomach twisted.

chris wasn’t one for exaggeration. he joked, sure. he teased, he made sarcastic remarks. but when it came to things like this—things that mattered—he didn’t just say things for the sake of saying them.

“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

chris sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “look, i never liked mabel. i tolerated her because felix liked her, and that was enough for me. but she was…” he hesitated, searching for the right word. “complicated.”

complicated.

it felt too mild, too neutral, like it didn’t fully capture the weight behind his words.

chris exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “no, scratch that—she was the most manipulative, condescending bitch you’d ever meet.” his voice was colder now, edged with something raw. he let out another laugh—bitter, laced with old memories.

“i can’t tell you how many times i watched him second-guess himself because of her. how many times she’d say something—just the right way, just sharp enough—to make him think he was the problem.” his jaw clenched, his fingers tapping restlessly against his bicep. “she knew how to make him feel small. and he let her do it.”

your throat felt tight.

“he thought he loved her,” chris continued, quieter now. “and maybe he did, in his own way. but mabel? she never loved him the way he did.” his jaw tightened, his voice growing rougher. “she loved the thrill of making him insecure.”

a cold, sinking feeling settled in your stomach.

chris sighed, rubbing at his temples. “felix doesn’t talk about her for a reason, y/n. not because he’s heartbroken. not because he’s still in love with her.” he leveled you with a look—one that was heavy, serious. “because she left scars he’s still trying to cover up.”

and suddenly, everything—the hesitation, the fear, the way felix had held back from you for so long—it all made sense.

you stared at him, your pulse suddenly loud in your ears.

“listen to me.” his voice was firm, serious in a way that left no room for argument. “felix loves you. and don’t go thinking you’re some replacement. if anything, you’re the exact opposite of what she was. and that’s why he’s scared.”

your brows furrowed.

chris let out a humorless chuckle, pushing off the counter. “because you actually love him, y/n. you make him feel safe. you don’t make him question himself every second of the day. you don’t treat his love like it’s something he has to earn.” he leaned back against the sink, exhaling heavily. “you think he doesn’t realize that? that it doesn’t terrify him?”

a lump formed in your throat. “god,” you whispered. “i feel like an idiot.”

chris shook his head immediately. “don’t,” he said, his voice firm. “felix doesn’t make this easy. and honestly?” he let out a breath, raking a hand through his curls. “i don’t think he even fully understands it himself.”

you stared at the coffee in your hands, watching the way the foam swirled. your heart pounded in your chest, a storm of emotions crashing against your ribs.

“y/n.”

you looked up.

chris watched you for a moment longer, then exhaled, shaking his head slightly. his arms uncrossed, and without hesitation, he said, “come here.”

your throat tightened.

you hesitated for only a second before stepping forward, and as soon as you did, chris pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you in a firm, grounding embrace.

his warmth was immediate, solid. his chin rested lightly against the top of your head, and his hands pressed against your back, steady and sure. you closed your eyes, pressing your forehead lightly against his chest.

chris sighed, his voice quieter now. “i know it’s a lot,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “but you don’t have to carry all of this alone.”

you swallowed, nodding slightly against him.

the front door creaked softly as it swung open. felix stepped inside, shaking off the cold from the outside air. chris’s place had always been like a second home to him—he never knocked, never needed to. the lights were on, a quiet warmth filling the space, and he figured chris was here.

felix shut the door behind him and took a few steps in, about to call out when he stopped short. his gaze landed on the living room.

there, standing in the soft glow of the lamp, was chris—his arms wrapped tightly around you.

felix stilled.

chris’s arms loosened around you the moment you turned, your breath catching slightly when you saw felix standing there. 

his eyes flickered up to chris’s, confusion flitting across his face like a shadow before he quickly masked it. his brows furrowed for only a second, but the moment you stepped away from chris, moving toward him, his expression shifted. the second you reached felix, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into him.

felix exhaled sharply, his arms coming around you almost instantly, holding you tight. his fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt like he needed to feel you, to make sure you were really there.

“i was wondering where you were, i got so scared.” felix buried his face in your hair, breathing you in like he needed the reassurance that you were here, with him.

your arms tightened around felix, your fingers gripping onto him as if trying to anchor him, to reassure him. his warmth, his scent—everything about him was familiar, safe. his heart pounded against your cheek, and you could feel the way he held onto you, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

felix exhaled shakily, his hand sliding up your back before his gaze flickered past you, landing on chris. “what are you doing at chris’s house?”

you hesitated, your fingers curling slightly into the back of his hoodie. you could feel the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the subtle shift in his breathing.

“i wanted to talk to you about something,” you admitted, keeping your voice gentle. “and i needed to run by it with him first.”

the warmth in his embrace didn’t disappear, but you could feel the way his body stiffened ever so slightly, the way his hands twitched against your back like he was bracing himself. he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he pulled back just enough to look at you. his brows furrowed, eyes flickering between yours, trying to read you, trying to figure out what this was—what this meant.

felix’s body stiffened against yours. his arms, still wrapped around you, tensed for just a fraction of a second—so subtle you might’ve missed it if you weren’t pressed so close to him. he swallowed, his jaw tightening, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter. “about what?”

his eyes landed to chris again, almost like he was looking for an answer before you even said it.

you let out a quiet sigh, dropping your gaze for a moment, staring at the space between you—the way your hands rested against his chest, the way his hoodie bunched slightly beneath your grip.

chris exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “you know, felix,” he said, his voice firm. “you know what this is about.”

felix’s fingers twitched against your back. you could feel the way his breath faltered, just slightly, before he took in a slow inhale through his nose. he didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel the battle going on inside him. he wasn’t dumb. he knew exactly what this was about.

his voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it, something tight and strained.

“did you tell her, chris?” his jaw clenched, and he turned, pulling away from you just enough to face him fully. “i told you not to mess with this.”

your voice cut through the thick air between them.

“it wasn’t him, felix,” you said, your voice quieter now, but it held that sharp edge. you shifted just enough to look him in the eyes. “i found out on my own.”

his gaze sharpened instantly.

felix’s jaw tightened, and you could see the flicker of frustration cross his features. he turned away from you, his body tense, like he needed space, like the walls in the room were closing in. without a word, he stepped toward the front door, his sneakers scraping lightly against the hardwood floor.

you hesitated for a moment, but your feet followed him anyway, your pulse racing. felix stopped just in front of the door, one hand on the handle, his body facing the outside world as if he needed that distance, that air, to breathe. he didn’t turn around, but you could hear the tension in his voice when he spoke.

"let's talk outside," he muttered, his words clipped, almost cold. you nodded silently and followed him out as the morning breeze hit you like a sudden breath of air, cool against your skin, rustling the leaves in the trees around you. you felt it, the shift in the atmosphere, the way it made everything feel a little more real, a little sharper. the silence between you both stretched, thick and uncomfortable, like the air was holding its breath, waiting for something to break it.

felix’s voice was low, quieter than before, and the question hung between you like a challenge, a plea for clarity. “if it wasn’t chris, then who told you?”

you looked at him then, really looked at him. the way his jaw clenched, his eyes not meeting yours directly, but somewhere past you as if he couldn’t bear to face the reality of this conversation. the guilt was there, and you could feel it—heavy and thick in the air.

“why does it matter?” you murmured instead, and to your horror, your voice cracked. 

felix’s expression softened just slightly, but you weren’t done. the emotions inside you were pressing against your ribs, demanding to be spoken, to be heard.

“i’ve spent our whole relationship wondering about who she was,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper now, but there was weight in each word. “you never talked about her. you barely mentioned her. what was i supposed to think when you’ve been so obviously hiding something?”

felix’s hands flexed at his sides, the tension in his body like a taut string, just waiting to snap. he didn’t have to say anything—you could feel it. your words were landing like daggers, each one leaving a mark on him.

“i’ll tell you right now, felix.” your voice was quieter now, but just as firm. “i could’ve found out months ago. but i told myself i could trust you. that you’d tell me yourself. that you’d tell me why you act like you’re seeing a ghost every time she’s brought up.”

the wind howled around you, the distant waves crashing against the rocks, but all you could focus on was him. felix still hadn’t moved an inch, his eyes fixed on the ground like he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. his chest heaved, shallow breaths coming in and out like he was trying to brace for the storm you were unleashing.

your heart hammered in your chest, but you pushed forward, step by step, closer to him. the air between you felt electric, charged with everything that had gone unsaid.

you took one slow, deliberate step forward, the tension between you both thickening. felix’s eyes flickered to yours for a brief second before darting away, unable to hold your gaze for more than a heartbeat. you reached out then, your hand trembling slightly, but it was more from the weight of everything hanging between you than fear.

you gripped his hand. his fingers twitched, and he instinctively curled his fingers around yours, but there was a hesitation, a wariness that you could feel in the way he held you, like he wasn’t sure if he could fully trust himself to be there.

“but i get it, felix,” you whispered, your voice softer now, but still steady, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. you squeezed his hand, your palm warm against his cold skin. “after finding out, i understand why you’d hide it. i understand why you’d keep it from me. i’m not mad at you for that. not at all.”

you met his eyes, and this time, he didn’t look away. there was something different in the way he was looking at you now—something soft, something broken. you let him see it, the sincerity in your gaze, the truth of your words.

“but you can’t blame me for wanting to know,” you finished, your voice quiet. “so please,” your voice cracked. “please talk to me.”

the silence that followed felt like an eternity, thick and suffocating. you stood there, heart racing, waiting for him to say something, anything. but felix just stood frozen, his gaze dropping to the ground, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

your hand still held his, and you could feel the tremble in his fingers, the tension in his body. the world seemed to pause around you, the wind picking up and brushing past you both, but it all felt distant, like it was happening to someone else.

finally, he spoke, his voice so quiet it almost didn’t feel real.

“i thought i killed her.”

your heart skipped a beat, your mind struggling to catch up with what he’d just said. you blinked, the confusion on your face clear, but you couldn’t speak.

“what?” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips, barely making sense to you.

felix’s eyes remained fixed on the ground, the weight of his words hanging between you like a thick fog. he looked almost... haunted. his eyes were shiny, glistening like they were holding back something more than just tears—like they were trying to contain everything he had buried deep inside. his jaw was tight, his lips barely moving as he spoke again, the words coming out in a strangled whisper.

“i hated her, y/n,” felix murmured, his voice barely audible, cracking under the weight of the words. “god, i hated her so much.” he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with a deep breath that did nothing to calm him. his face was tight with emotion, like he was still trying to wrestle with the parts of himself he didn’t want to face. 

you stood frozen, feeling like the ground beneath you was shifting with every word he spoke. you had known about the past, known about mabel and the hurt she’d caused him, but hearing it like this, hearing how much hatred and confusion he carried—it felt like being punched in the chest.

felix’s eyes were distant, staring down at the ground as he continued, his words flowing in a rush now, spilling out like a dam breaking. “two summers ago... when she went back to the states. i thought i’d finally get a break. i thought i could breathe again. i was away from her. away from all her toxic bullshit.” his voice wavered, and you could hear the bitterness, the anger that had built up over the years.

“during that summer, i thought i could finally live that i didn’t have to deal with her, and i actually... i actually felt free.” he looked up at you then, his eyes pained, glistening with unshed tears. “i wished, every single day, that she wouldn’t come back to australia. i wished that i wouldn’t have to see her again. i wanted her to stay away. i wanted her gone from my life for good.”

felix’s voice cracked, trembled, as he looked at you then, his face twisting in pain. “and then she died on the way here. she was gone, and all i can think is... i wanted that. i wished for it every day. and now...” his voice faltered again, the words breaking apart before he could finish.

you could see how deeply this had cut him. how torn he was between what he thought he’d wanted, and the reality of what had actually happened. his guilt was suffocating him, drowning him in a way you had never seen before.

what does it do to a person when their biggest tormentor, their deepest wound, is suddenly gone? 

there’s no closure, no way to process the years of pain and rage. instead, felix was left with an emptiness—a hollow feeling, like a part of him that he didn’t even know how to acknowledge had disappeared along with her. 

you stood there, the silence stretching between you two like an endless chasm, as you tried to comprehend what felix must have been feeling.

“i know you think i’m crazy,” he said, his words fragile, like he was afraid of what you might think. “like i’m not over her. that i’m still hung up on her. but i’m not. i swear to god, i’m not in love with her anymore.”

you stepped closer to him, your fingers brushing against his hand again. “i don’t think you’re crazy,” you said, your voice steady, trying to match the calmness in your heart. “i think you’re human. and guilt is a hell of a thing. i don’t know what it’s like to carry that kind of weight with you every day... but i know it must hurt.”

felix didn’t speak at first, just let your words settle around him to know that you weren’t pushing him away, that you weren’t going to jump to conclusions.

“but i know you’re over her,” you added quietly. “you’re allowed to feel how you feel about all of this, even if it doesn’t make sense. i’m not going anywhere, okay?”

you opened your arms instinctively, and in that second, felix melted into you. his chest pressed against yours, his face burrowing into the crook of your neck, like he was seeking solace, a place to let go of everything he had been holding in for so long.

you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the tremble in his body. the weight of everything he had just revealed was still there, but in this moment, it was like you could take some of that burden off him, if only for a little while.

“i’m so glad i told you,” he murmured into your skin, his voice thick with emotion. you could feel the words vibrating through his chest, his breath warm against your neck.

you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him. “i’m glad you did too,” you whispered back, your voice soft but steady. “you don’t have to keep things like that locked inside, felix. i’m here. always.”

for a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing, the quiet rustle of the breeze around you, the weight of the world seeming to shift just a little.

“i love you,” you whispered, the words so natural, so right, that you almost couldn’t believe they hadn’t been said sooner. you meant it, every syllable. you loved him—so much it was almost overwhelming. it was more than just the words; it was the depth of everything you felt for him, the way his vulnerability made your heart ache in the most beautiful way.

felix’s shoulders sagged, the last bit of tension leaving his body. “i love you too.”

day 8 - 11:00

the sun was high now, glinting off the rolling waves as they crashed lazily against the shore. the morning storm had long passed, leaving behind nothing but a crisp, salt-kissed breeze and a sky so blue like it was out of a movie.

you waded out of the water, breathless from laughing, your skin damp and glistening in the sunlight. felix was right beside you, shaking his head like a wet dog, sending droplets flying in every direction.

“felix—stop,” you squealed, shielding your face with your arms, though you were already soaked.

he grinned, wicked and unrepentant, pushing his hair back from where it stuck to his forehead. “what? you’re already wet.”

you huffed, rolling your eyes, and without thinking, you shoved him—hard.

felix stumbled back a step. “oh?”

you barely had time to laugh before he was shoving you right back, his hands warm against your bare shoulders. you yelped, feet slipping slightly in the wet sand, but before you could retaliate, he was already laughing, eyes bright and boyish.

the two of you were back at the cove, water droplets clinging to your skin, the sun warming every inch of you as if trying to dry you off itself. the cove was as breathtaking as ever, tucked away from the rest of the beach like a secret only you and felix knew. the towering rock formations framed the shore, their rugged edges softened by patches of greenery that clung to the stone. the sand, fine and golden, still held the last bit of coolness from the morning, but with the way the sun hung high in the sky now, it wouldn't last much longer. 

felix sighed as he plopped down onto the sand, bracing his arms behind him and tilting his face up to the sky. his skin was still damp, beads of water catching on his collarbones, trailing down his chest.

you watched him for a moment, the way the sun lit up the sharp angles of his face, the curve of his lips still stretched into an easy grin. he looked so at peace, so effortlessly golden in the afternoon light, like he belonged here—like he was part of the sun and the sea and everything warm.

then he turned his head, catching you staring. his smile softened, something playful but a little more thoughtful underneath it. without a word, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your thigh before settling there, warm and steady. his thumb traced absent circles over your skin, and it sent a tiny thrill up your spine.

“you gonna stand there all day?” his voice was low, teasing, but there was something else behind it, something quieter.

you smiled, sinking down onto your knees beside him, the sand soft beneath you. “maybe,” you murmured, tilting your head. “i like the view.”

felix let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head, but there was a pinkish hue creeping up his neck. his fingers tightened slightly on your thigh, and when you leaned in just a little, he met you halfway.

and then he tilted his head down toward his lap. an invitation.

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

felix’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile curling at the edges. he tilted his head down again, more deliberate this time, widening his eyes.

you held his gaze for a second longer before a soft chuckle slipped past your lips. shaking your head, you lowered yourself onto your knees, the sand cool beneath them.

felix wasted no time. as soon as you settled against him, his arms slid around your waist, pulling you in close, his palms splayed over your bare skin. the heat of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, the contrast of the cool breeze against the warmth of his body making your skin prickle.

he dipped his head without hesitation, pressing his face into the curve of your neck, breathing you in like the salty air wasn’t enough. his lips found the spot just beneath your jaw, soft at first—just a lingering press of warmth. then, his mouth moved lower, kissing along the side of your throat, slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

and then—his teeth. a light graze, barely there, but enough to send a sudden jolt through you.

you twitched, a surprised chuckle bubbling up before you could stop it. "felix," you laughed, squirming slightly in his hold.

he grinned against your skin, arms tightening around your waist as he pressed another kiss there, lips curving. "what?" he murmured, though he didn’t pull back.

"you know what," you accused, still laughing softly as he dragged his nose along your skin, slow and lazy, like he was committing every inch of you to memory.

felix hummed against your skin, the sound deep and satisfied, like he was exactly where he wanted to be. his hands traced slow, lazy circles against your sides, fingertips skimming just beneath the edge of your swimsuit, like he was testing the limits of how much he could touch before you stopped him.

but you didn’t.

"you smell good," he murmured, his lips still ghosting over your skin. "like salt and sunshine."

you huffed, but it came out breathy, your fingers curling against his shoulders. "you're so weird."

he grinned again, looking entirely too pleased with himself. but then—just when you were about to shove him for being so smug—he moved.

his hands slid up to cradle your face, and before you could catch your breath, his lips were on yours. warm and firm, but unhurried, like he was savoring the feeling of you beneath him.

and he kissed like he meant it. like he’d been waiting forever.

your hand slid across his chest, fingers trailing over smooth, sun-warmed skin. he felt solid beneath your touch, every inch of him sculpted and familiar, like something you’d memorized once but were only now remembering. his abs tensed slightly under your fingertips, and a quiet, pleased hum left his throat as you explored the planes of his body, tracing the ridges of muscle like you had all the time in the world.

gosh, you had missed this. missed him.

the heat of him, the way he touched you like he didn’t want to let go, like he needed you closer. your body pressed against his, and he pulled you in tighter, chest rising and falling beneath your palm in time with his uneven breaths.

"you're driving me crazy," he murmured against your lips, voice rough, laced with something deeper.

a shiver ran through you, but you weren’t about to let him get the upper hand so easily. "then stop talking," you whispered, fingers sliding lower, nails grazing just above the waistband of his swim trunks.

felix inhaled sharply, his whole body going still. you felt the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingertips, the slight hitch in his breath as your hand hovered just above the waistband of his swim trunks.

for a moment, he didn’t move. he just looked down at your hand—staring like he was trying to process what was happening, what it meant. then, slowly, his gaze lifted to yours.

your heart pounded. not just from the heat, not just from the way he felt under your touch, but from the weight of the moment pressing between you. this had always been something unspoken, something hanging in the air like a possibility neither of you ever dared to reach for—until now.

"do you—" your voice was quiet, careful, but steady.

felix swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. his fingers twitched against your skin, like he was holding himself back, thinking, deciding. and then, finally, his lips parted.

"yes."

it was barely a breath, but it was enough.

something in his face shifted—nervous, but sure. he let out a soft laugh, almost like he couldn’t believe this was happening, and then he smiled. that smile—the one that always made your stomach flip, the one that was full of warmth, full of him.

before you could say anything, he leaned in, kissing you quickly, a little eager, a little shaky, like he just had to feel you against him again. his hands held your waist, warm and grounding, and you were already moving, already reaching for him—

then—

a noise.

a sharp rustling in the trees behind you.

felix froze. you did too, your fingers stilled, your breath caught in your throat. the sound wasn’t just the wind. it was something—or someone.

your eyes snapped to his, wide and questioning. he was already looking past you, his whole body on alert, jaw tight.

neither of you spoke. neither of you moved.

then, another rustle. closer this time.

your heart hammered. "felix…" you whispered.

he exhaled, lips pressing into a thin line. then, still holding onto you, he turned his head toward the trees, gaze sharp and searching.

the trees rustled again, the sound sharper this time—closer. your stomach twisted.

"what is that?" you whispered again, barely moving your lips.

his hand tightened on your waist, his body tense against yours. then, without hesitation, he whispered back, "hide."

your pulse jumped. he was already moving, already pulling you up with him, his grip firm but careful as he guided you toward the nearest cover—a large rock nestled against the edge of the cove, half-hidden by the curve of the arch.

you scrambled behind it together, the sand hot beneath your feet as you crouched low. felix's hand found yours in the dim shade of the rock, fingers lacing between yours. his grip was warm, steady, but you could feel the way his pulse thrummed just as fast as yours.

felix shifted slightly, just enough to peer around the edge of the rock. his jaw was tight, lips pressed together, eyes narrowed as they flicked toward the trees. he was watching. waiting.

and then—

another rustle. more deliberate this time. slow. like someone was taking careful steps through the undergrowth.

your fingers curled tighter around his. your breath hitched.

felix’s grip on your hand tightened as voices broke through the quiet.

“yeah, this whole area’s overgrown,” one of them said, his voice carrying through the trees. “too many plants blocking the view. we’ll need to clear some of it out.”

a second voice hummed in agreement. “shame, though. it’s beautiful back here. you don’t get many spots like this anymore.”

felix shot you a look, his brows lifting, and despite the pounding of your heart, you almost laughed. here you were, crouched behind a rock like fugitives, while these guys casually discussed landscaping.

but they weren’t leaving.

"let's have a look over here."

the words sent a sharp jolt down your spine. footsteps shifted—deliberate, moving toward you.

felix’s entire body went rigid. his grip on your hand became iron, his breath steady but sharp. you turned to him, eyes wide, but he wasn’t looking at you—he was looking around, scanning, calculating, his mind already racing ahead to what came next.

the space behind the rock suddenly felt too small. too exposed.

"we need to go," he whispered, his voice barely audible beneath the sound of the waves.

your stomach flipped. "how?"

his gaze flicked toward the water, then back to you.

no time.

felix exhaled sharply. then, without another word, he grabbed your wrist. “come here.”

you barely had time to react before he was moving, tugging you with him as he crept toward the water’s edge. he didn’t hesitate—just stepped in, sinking into the cool waves like it was second nature. the waves lapped at his legs as he pushed forward, the water swallowing him inch by inch until he was gliding effortlessly into its depths.

you followed, breath tight in your chest, heart hammering against your ribs. the moment you were deep enough, you let go of the earth beneath you, pushing off with a single kick, the ocean cradling your body as you drifted forward. the cool rush of the water swallowed the heat of your skin, the sound of your own pulse drowned beneath the rhythmic lull of the waves.

the sound of their voices faded behind you, muffled by the rush of the ocean in your ears. the cove stretched out ahead, and beyond it, the rocky cliffs curved around, hiding another small, empty stretch of shore.

however, there was no soft sand, no welcoming stretch of land. instead, a cluster of slick, uneven rocks jutted out from the base of the cliffs, their dark surfaces glistening under the afternoon sun. the tide rushed against them, filling the crevices with swirling foam before retreating again.

it was no beach. but it was something.

relief bubbled up in your chest, sharp and sudden, and before you could stop yourself, a breathless laugh slipped past your lips. you turned to felix, still swimming beside you, ready to joke about your great escape.

but something was wrong.

his face was tight, his jaw clenched, brows furrowed in a way that sent an instant jolt of unease through you. his strokes were still strong, still pushing him forward, but there was a stiffness to them, a strain in the way he moved.

your stomach dipped. “felix?”

his breath came out shakier than before. he hesitated, like he didn’t want to say it.

“i got stung.”

the words hit you like a wave, cold and sudden. your laughter died on your lips.

your face dropped. “what?”

felix winced, his movements faltering just slightly. “something in the water.” his voice was tight, but controlled, like he was trying not to make a big deal of it.

panic flared in your chest. without thinking, you surged toward him, cutting through the water with quick, urgent strokes.

“don’t,” he said quickly, his voice strained. “it might still be here.”

you ignored him, reaching for him anyway.

“y/n,” felix warned, but his voice wavered, the edges fraying with something dangerously close to pain.

you didn’t stop. you couldn’t.

the moment your hands found him, his body tensed beneath your touch, his muscles drawn tight like a bowstring. his skin was warm—too warm—beneath the cool embrace of the water, and as you gripped his arm, he squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling sharply through his nose.

your stomach twisted. “felix,” you breathed, scanning him in a rush, eyes darting over his chest, his arms, the expanse of his stomach just beneath the surface. “where?”

he shook his head slightly, jaw locked, his breath coming out in controlled, shallow pulls. “i don’t—” a sharp inhale cut him off. 

without thinking, you moved, your hands ghosting over his side. the moment your fingers brushed just beneath his ribs, felix flinched—his entire body jerking at the contact.

“shit—” his hand shot out, gripping your wrist, his eyes squeezing shut even tighter, a pained hiss slipping past his teeth. “there. there.” another shudder ran through him, his head dipping forward.

panic surged in you like a wave. your mind raced, trying to remember anything—anything—you knew about marine stings. jellyfish? stingray? something else? you had no idea. you had no clue what the hell had just sunk its venom into your boyfriend’s skin, but you did know that every second spent floating here was another second wasted.

his muscles tensed beneath your touch as he moved, as if forcing himself to keep going, to push forward despite whatever fire was searing beneath his skin. he cursed under his breath, his jaw clenching so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.

the jagged rocks were only a few strokes away. the waves crashed against them in a steady rhythm, white foam licking the edges like a warning. you had to time it right—wait for the moment between swells and move.

you tightened your hold on felix, heart pounding, breath quick. “we’re almost there,” you murmured, trying to sound steady, even though your chest was tight with fear.

felix just nodded, lips pressed into a thin line, his body tense against yours. and then, with a deep breath, you surged forward, dragging him with you, toward the rocks, toward safety, toward whatever came next.

the shore was close now—just a little further. the waves grew gentler as the water shallowed, the ocean floor rising beneath your feet. you could almost touch it, almost pull both of you onto solid rocks.

felix’s fingers dug into your wrist, a sharp, almost desperate pressure. it hurt—his grip like iron, like he was holding on for dear life—but you didn’t say anything. if it was grounding him, if it was giving him even the smallest bit of relief, you could take it.

his breath came in sharp bursts, his jaw clenched so tight you were sure it ached. every now and then, he let out a shaky exhale, like he was trying to work through the pain, trying to convince himself it wasn’t as bad as it clearly was.

“almost there,” you murmured, voice low, steady. “just a little more.”

he gave a weak nod, but his grip on you only tightened.

the moment your fingers found solid rock, you clung to it, bracing yourself against the slick surface as the water tugged at your legs. the tide was relentless, threatening to pull you back in, but you gritted your teeth and pushed forward.

“come on,” you urged, turning to felix.

his jaw was clenched, his breathing uneven, but he didn’t hesitate. with a sharp inhale, he reached for the ledge, his arms trembling slightly as he hauled himself up beside you. he gritted out another curse as his side brushed against the stone, a fresh wave of pain stiffening his movements.

the second you were both out of the water, felix collapsed back onto the rock, exhaling shakily. his head tipped back against the uneven surface, his chest rising and falling in heavy, controlled breaths.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the only sound was the ocean crashing against the rocks below, the water swirling hungrily around where you had just been. the fear in your chest still hadn’t fully settled, adrenaline buzzing through your limbs, but you forced yourself to focus.

felix let out a low groan, dragging a hand down his face before resting it over his ribs. his brows furrowed, and his fingers hovered just above the spot where he’d been stung, like he was afraid to touch it.

you swallowed hard. “let me see.”

he hesitated, his jaw clenching as if debating whether to brush you off. but then he exhaled, his shoulders sinking just slightly. without a word, he moved his hand away.

your stomach flipped.

a long, angry welt stretched across his ribs, already inflamed, the skin around it tinged a deep, irritated red. 

he huffed out a breath—something close to a laugh, but edged with pain. “you know… i heard pee helps with this.”

you groaned, rolling your eyes as you helped lower him onto the dry sand. “felix, i swear—”

“i’m just saying,” he muttered, wincing as he shifted. “if you really care about me…”

you shot him a look. “yeah, well, if you really cared about me, you wouldn’t make me consider peeing on you, you freak.”

that actually got a laugh out of him, even if it was short-lived. he exhaled through his nose, his head tipping back slightly. the skin was already swelling, the edges a blotchy pink.

your stomach twisted. “that looks like a jellyfish sting,” you murmured.

felix peeked down at it, nose scrunching. “yeah. feels like one too.”

you sighed, shaking your head. “you need something on that before it gets worse.”

he smirked again, though it was weaker this time. “not pee?”

you swatted his arm, unable to help the small smile tugging at your lips. "no, you idiot. get up."

felix groaned dramatically but obeyed, pushing himself up onto his feet with a wince. “yes, ma’am,” he muttered, shaking his head as if this was all your problem to deal with. you rolled your eyes and reached for his arm to steady him, but he shot you a lopsided grin. “good thing i have an expert with me,” he said, his voice teasing despite the pain laced through it. “since, you know… you’ve had experience getting bitten by snakes.”

you blinked at him. “you mean, when i was six?”

he shrugged, barely suppressing a smirk. “still counts.”

you gawked at him for a second before groaning, dragging a hand down your face. “that was forever ago.”

“yeah, but you lived to tell the tale.” he gestured vaguely. “so i trust your survival skills.”

you shot him a flat look. “felix, i cried so hard i passed out.”

felix sighed, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off the pain. “well, let’s hope i don’t,” he muttered, stepping toward the water.

he exhaled through his nose, glancing down at the angry red welt on his ribs. without another word, he crouched by the water, scooping some up in his hands and splashing it over the sting.

the reaction was immediate. his body tensed, shoulders going stiff as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. he turned his head away from you, like if he didn’t meet your eyes, he could somehow downplay just how much it hurt.

you noticed. the way his jaw clenched, the way his fingers flexed slightly in the sand, like he was trying so hard not to let it show. your eyebrows furrowed, a pang of sympathy tugging at your chest.

felix inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders before pushing himself to his feet. “alright,” he said, shaking his hands free of water, forcing a smile. “i treat it properly when we get home.”

you let out a quiet sigh, watching him for a second. before he could step away, you reached up, fingers brushing through the damp strands of his hair. felix blinked, caught off guard, but he didn’t move—just let you smooth his hair back, let you touch him with that soft kind of affection that neither of you really put into words.

and then, still holding his gaze, you brought his head down, just enough to press a gentle kiss against his forehead.

felix stilled.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything, just hovered there, his breath fanning against your cheek. then, his lips curved into something small, something softer than his usual teasing smirk.

“i should get injured more often,”

day 8 - 13:00

the walk back to the beach house had been longer than expected, weaving through uneven terrain and jagged rocks, but felix had been a trooper. he never once complained, just pressed on with that quiet determination of his, even when the occasional wince betrayed the sting in his skin. you had kept an eye on him the whole way, noting every subtle twitch, every sharp inhale he tried to mask.

once inside, you wasted no time grabbing the first-aid kit. the both of you settled in the bathroom, the air warm and still, the only sounds being the soft rustle of bandages and the occasional hiss of breath when you worked out the small, stubborn stings that had lodged in his skin. 

now, felix was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped lazily over his stomach, the other resting against the back of the couch. his shirt was slightly lifted, revealing the fresh bandages across his ribs—proof of the careful tending you'd just finished.

you walked over to him, the small bottle of advil in your hand rattling softly. felix barely moved at first, his eyes half-lidded, heavy with exhaustion, but when he caught sight of you, a slow, lazy smile tugged at his lips.

“thanks, baby,” he murmured, voice low and a little rough from fatigue. he reached up, taking the bottle from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting second before he unscrewed the cap. he grabbed the glass of water you’d already set nearby and popped a couple of pills into his mouth, swallowing them down in one motion.

you watched him for a moment, the way his throat bobbed, the way his shoulders finally seemed to lose some of their earlier tension. when he was done, he let out a slow exhale and—without hesitation—leaned into you, his head settling against your shoulder like it was second nature.

you let out a quiet breath, your fingers absentmindedly brushing over the sleeve of his shirt. felix was warm against you, solid, but you couldn’t shake the worry still curling in your chest. you glanced down, eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the way his lips parted slightly as he settled deeper into your touch.

you hesitated, voice softer now. “i wish i could take your pain away.”

felix hummed, the sound low and lazy, before shifting just enough to look at you properly. 

“you could kiss me better,” he said simply, tilting his head, offering up his injured side like some kind of invitation.

a soft laugh escaped you, despite yourself, despite the lingering worry in your chest. typical. he could be bruised and aching, and he’d still find a way to make you smile.

shaking your head with a small smile, you leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above the bandage on his ribs. your lips barely brushed his skin, gentle and careful. felix let out a slow exhale, his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment before he shifted, tilting his face toward yours.

“i love you,” he murmured, voice quiet but certain.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers instinctively smoothing over his arm, tracing slow circles against his skin.

felix smiled then, small and easy, before his eyes flicked open again, mischief creeping in at the edges. “do you remember what we were doing before those landscapers interrupted us?”

your breath hitched—just slightly. a slow, creeping heat worked its way up your neck, and you swallowed, hard.

your throat went dry. “of course,” you admitted, voice a little quieter now. you did remember—very clearly.

felix let out a slow breath, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against your leg, like he was thinking about reaching for you but wasn’t sure if he should. “then,” he murmured, “we shouldn’t leave that hanging. should we?”

your pulse stuttered.

his eyes searched yours, open and wanting, his fingers finally curling against your skin like he needed the contact, like he needed you.

“felix,” you murmured, hesitating. “you’re injured.”

he swallowed, his hand tightening just slightly. “i know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “but this could help me take my mind off it.”

your heart did an embarrassing little flip, your resolve slipping faster than you’d like to admit. and judging by the way felix was looking at you—like he knew exactly what he was doing—you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon.your fingers tightened slightly where they rested against his arm. “you’re crazy,” you murmured, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

felix only grinned, shifting just enough to nudge his knee against yours. “am i?” 

you exhaled slowly, willing your pulse to stay steady, even as he tilted his head, watching you with those half-lidded, unreadable eyes. he wasn’t in any hurry. he had all the time in the world, and he knew you’d get there eventually.

still, you hesitated, fingers trailing absentmindedly along the band of his sweatpants, playing with the fabric. “what is it that you want, then?”

felix’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching where they rested against your leg before sliding just a little higher—not pushing, not demanding, just searching for more. his grip tightened, like he needed something to hold onto. “something slow.”

your breath caught.

felix’s lips twitched, like he’d noticed. “something that won’t, you know—” he gestured vaguely toward his bandaged ribs. “break me in half.”

you let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “that’s not reassuring.”

felix shifted then, his touch drifting, his fingers brushing against your hip in a way that sent heat licking up your spine. his voice was lower when he spoke again, quieter, like it was something just for you.

“i just want to feel you,” he murmured.

your pulse jumped.

felix’s fingers flexed, just slightly, against your hip. “i don’t need much,” he said, and there was something slow, lazy, and entirely deliberate in the way his voice curled around the words. “just a little…” his knee nudged against yours again. “pressure.”

a warmth spread through your chest—hot, insistent, impossible to ignore.

felix leaned in, his nose brushing against your jaw, his lips just barely grazing your skin as he murmured, “just like the other morning. is that okay?”

it was ridiculous, really, how easily he unraveled you. how one look, one shift of his fingers against your skin, could turn your thoughts to static.

because you wanted him. you wanted what you had that morning two days ago, the way he had kissed you, touched you—unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you. you remembered how he looked at you afterward, like you were something worth worshipping, like he had never wanted anything more.

and now? now you knew he loved you. now, that pull toward him was even deeper, twisting into something undeniable, something you didn’t even want to fight.

your fingers curled slightly against his arm, your body already leaning into his without a second thought. the way he was looking at you, lazy and knowing, sent another wave of heat down your spine. you wanted him, wanted to close the space between you, to press against him and get lost in the feeling of him.

but he was injured.

you forced yourself to breathe, to ground yourself in the rise and fall of his chest against your side. his body was warm, solid, but there was still a soreness lingering in the way he moved, a tension in his muscles that told you he wasn’t fully okay yet. and as much as you wanted him, as much as you ached for the weight of him over you, you weren’t about to let him push himself just to prove a point.

but you had an idea.

your fingers traced light patterns over his arm before drifting lower, a slow, intentional path. felix’s breath hitched, just slightly, and you felt the subtle shift in his body—his muscles tensing, then relaxing under your touch.

“while you relax,” you murmured, voice soft but certain. “i’ll take care of it.”

your fingers traced along his forearm, featherlight, teasing, just enough to make him twitch beneath your touch. he was watching you, his gaze dark and lidded, but there was a flicker of surprise when you slid your hand further down, fingertips brushing just above the waistband of his sweatpants. his breath stilled.

“that’s not what i meant,” felix murmured, voice thick, but there was no protest in it. just curiosity, a slow-building heat.

you hummed, tilting your head slightly as your hand skimmed lower, playing with the edge of the fabric, slipping just beneath—just enough to feel the heat of his skin. "i know," you admitted, voice soft but certain. "but this way, you won’t have to do anything. you can just relax.”

felix’s lips parted slightly, his breath coming just a little faster now. his grip on your thigh flexed, then released, like he was fighting the urge to pull you closer. he swallowed hard, his voice quieter when he finally spoke again. “are you sure?”

your pulse jumped, but you didn’t hesitate. your hand pressed more firmly against him, the heat of him unmistakable even through the fabric of his sweatpants. “yes, felix.”

felix exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching against your skin before he finally let himself relax, sinking back against the pillows with a slow, measured breath. his eyes stayed locked onto yours, watching you, waiting. trusting.

and that—god, that—was what made the heat in your stomach coil tighter. because felix could be so damn cocky, so effortlessly teasing, always knowing exactly what to say to make you weak. but right now, with you, he wasn’t playing a game. he was just looking at you like he wanted you, like he needed you, like he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him because he knew you wanted this just as much as he did.

your fingers traced over him again, slow, deliberate, pressing just a little more firmly this time. felix let out a quiet breath, his body tensing for just a second before melting into the sensation. his head tipped back against the pillow, exposing the long line of his throat, and something about that—about the way he gave in so easily, trusting you, wanting you—made your own breath catch.

your grip tightened just slightly, the slow, deliberate drag of your touch making felix’s breath hitch, his entire body tensing beneath your hands. you felt it—the way his muscles tightened, his fingers flexing against your thigh, his breath stuttering like he was holding himself back from something.

“relax, felix,” you murmured, voice softer now, coaxing, a quiet command wrapped in warmth.

a strangled sort of laugh left him, breathless and wrecked, his head tipping forward so his forehead nearly brushed yours. his eyes were dark, hazy with something he wasn’t bothering to hide anymore. “i can’t,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

something about the way he said it—like he was unraveling beneath your touch and there was nothing he could do to stop it—sent a fresh wave of heat through you, made your own breath come a little quicker.

felix’s hand curled against your thigh, gripping, grounding himself. “you don’t—” he exhaled sharply, his lips parting, like he was trying to string together a thought but kept losing it. “you don’t know what you do to me.”

you swallowed, your pulse skipping, because you felt it. felt the way he was barely holding himself together, felt the way his body reacted to every little touch. his breath was hot, uneven, his body taut beneath your touch, his entire being folding under the weight of whatever this was—whatever you were doing to him.

and then, in a breathless, wrecked whisper, he said it.

“i fuckin’ love you.”

your fingers tightened instinctively, the weight of his words sinking into you as heat curled low in your stomach. you felt him twitch under your palm, his body jerking slightly at the firm press of your hand, and gosh, the sound that spilled from his lips—a choked-off breath, a quiet groan, barely restrained—made you want to push him further, drag more of those noises out of him.

felix’s breath stuttered, his hips shifting just slightly, like he was trying to stay still, like he was trying not to fuck into your hand. but then you squeezed—slow, deliberate, feeling the solid heat of him through the fabric—and his entire body tensed. his fingers dug into your thigh, his grip tightening like he was holding onto you for dear life, and then he exhaled, sharp and shaky, his head tilting back against the couch.

“fuck,” he breathed, voice wrecked, like you had just knocked the air out of his lungs.

you stroked again, this time firmer, dragging your palm over him in a slow, deliberate motion, feeling every inch of him, the way he throbbed under your touch, the way his body responded instantly. the sweatpants did little to dull the sensation—he was hot and hard beneath the thin fabric, and when you squeezed again, when your fingers traced the outline of him, pressing just enough to feel him twitch against your palm, he groaned, low and needy.

his jaw went slack, lips parted, breath uneven, and you could see it—how bad he wanted this, how much he needed it.

you didn’t stop. you kept working him, your hand steady, your strokes unhurried but firm, dragging up from the base with just the right amount of pressure, and he fucking melted. his breath came quicker, his shoulders tightening, and then he let out a low, shaky curse, his head tilting back against the couch.

his voice was hoarse when he spoke again, barely held together. “i’m not gonna last if you—” he cut himself off with a sharp inhale, his stomach tensing beneath your touch.

you kept your grip steady, your fingers tightening just enough to make his breath hitch. the way his body responded to every stroke, every slow, deliberate squeeze, sent a hot thrill through you. his hips twitched, his jaw went slack, and the muscles in his stomach tightened with every movement of your hand.

felix sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers twitching where they gripped your thigh. he was so warm, so solid beneath your touch, and fuck, the way he was falling apart for you made your pulse stutter, made your own breath come a little quicker. his head tipped back, exposing the long line of his throat, and god, he looked wrecked—lips parted, eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation.

you let out a soft hum, tilting your head as your fingers slowed, teasing now, just enough to make him whimper—fucking whimper—before you pulled back slightly. his hips lifted instinctively, chasing your touch, and the frustration in his expression sent another wave of heat down your spine.

his breath came faster now, rough and uneven, and his grip on your thigh tightened as his eyes fluttered open, dark and dazed. he blinked up at you, his brows drawn, like he couldn’t understand why you had stopped.

a slow smirk curled at your lips. “felix,” you murmured, letting your hand rest just over him, barely applying pressure now. his body tensed beneath you, his thighs twitching, like he was fighting the urge to move, to beg. “do you want me to really touch you?”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a second, he didn’t answer—just swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, his fingers flexing against your leg.

then, slowly, he nodded. “god yes.”

his voice was low, wrecked, raw with need. it sent a shiver through you, made your own body thrum with anticipation. but you didn’t move just yet. you watched him, drinking in the way he looked up at you—open, wanting, completely at your mercy.

“do you want me to touch you properly, felix?”

the muscles in his stomach clenched, his grip on your thigh tightening as if that was the only thing keeping him grounded. his jaw worked, lips parting like he wanted to speak, but all that came out was a shaky exhale. and then, finally, his voice—wrecked, breathless, desperate.

“yes, y/n. please.”

something about the way he said your name—soft, needy, like a prayer and a plea all at once—made heat coil low in your stomach. your smirk deepened, slow and wicked, and you dragged your fingers down to the waistband of his sweats, teasing the fabric between your fingertips. his hips twitched, his breath catching as anticipation crackled between you like static.

you took your time, hooking your fingers into the band, dragging it down—slow, excruciatingly slow—watching the way his cock strained against the thin cotton of his boxers. your mouth went dry, your breath hitching slightly despite yourself, because fuck—he was big.

the shape of him was thick, the fabric barely containing the way he twitched, aching for relief. you could see the way he pulsed against it, the way a damp spot had already formed at the tip, his arousal leaking through. felix let out a choked noise when you traced a single teasing finger along the outline of him, dragging from the base to the tip, feeling the heat of him through the barrier of dark fabric. his hips bucked slightly into your touch, and his hands flexed, like he was fighting the urge to grab you, to pull you closer.

“god,” you murmured, voice hushed, almost to yourself. “you’re…” you trailed off, shaking your head slightly, biting your lip as you finally—finally—slipped your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down.

his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, flushed a deep, needy red, the head slick with precum. it twitched under your gaze, the length of him standing proud, veined, leaking, like he’d been aching for this for so, so long. a shiver ran through you, heat pooling low in your belly as your thighs clenched involuntarily.

felix sucked in a sharp breath, his head tipping back against the couch, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “fuck,” he groaned, his voice a wrecked rasp. “fuck, y/n…”

you swallowed, eyes fixed on the way his cock throbbed in the cool air, aching for your touch. your fingers ghosted over the thick length, barely brushing, and he jolted, a low, helpless sound escaping him.

you wrapped your fingers around him, the heat of him burning against your palm, solid and thick, so much more than you had imagined. he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his thighs twitching under your touch.

you gave a slow, experimental stroke, dragging your hand from the base to the tip, feeling the way he pulsed under your palm, the way he leaked against your fingers. felix let out a shaky moan, his hips jerking slightly, like he couldn’t help it.

your grip tightened just slightly as you dragged your hand down again, taking your time, feeling the weight of him, the smooth, velvety skin stretched over iron-hard arousal. he was perfect—thick enough that your fingers didn’t quite close around him, the veins along his shaft pulsing as you traced them with a featherlight touch. his cock twitched in your grip, leaking more, smearing slick warmth over your fingers.

you had never seen anything like this before. had never touched anyone like this before. and yet, here you were, wrapped around your boyfriend’s cock, watching it throb in your grip, slick with his need.

a part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. another part of you never wanted to stop.

his gaze flicked down to where your fingers were wrapped around him, where his cock throbbed against your palm, slick with precum. “so this is what people do when they have no parents around for the week, huh?”

your stomach clenched. the weight of his words, the reality of the situation, sent a fresh wave of arousal rolling through you. his parents were gone. it was just the two of you, no one to walk in, no one to hear, no one to stop this from going further.

and everyone you knew—everyone you had ever talked to about your relationship—had assumed it was the first thing you two would do this week.

you swallowed hard, your strokes slowing as the thought settled in your mind.

your grip tightened, slick fingers gliding faster over his throbbing cock, and felix shuddered beneath you, a wrecked, desperate sound spilling from his lips. his hips jerked up into your touch, chasing the friction, chasing you. his breath came in sharp gasps, chest rising and falling unevenly, hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab onto you or let himself unravel.

“fuck,” he panted, voice breaking, raw with need. “fuck, i’m—”

you cut him off by leaning in, pressing your mouth to his, swallowing the rest of his words. he moaned into the kiss, high and breathless, the sound vibrating against your lips as his whole body trembled under you. his cock throbbed in your hand, leaking slick, twitching with every firm stroke. he tried to hold himself back, tried to keep from losing it too soon, but he was falling apart, and he knew it.

“i’m not—shit—i’m not gonna last,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut like he couldn’t bear how close he was. “i—fuck, fuck—”

he was babbling, barely coherent, his body tight with tension, his abs flexing with every shaky breath. you watched his face, his brows furrowed, his lips parted, his whole expression one of pure, unfiltered pleasure. 

and it scared you. just for a second.

felix noticed. even through the haze of his impending orgasm, he noticed the hesitation in your touch, the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. his lashes fluttered as he cracked his eyes open, pupils blown wide and dark with lust, but there was something softer there too—something grounding.

he exhaled shakily, then covered your hand with his, guiding you. his fingers laced with yours, showing you the rhythm, the grip, the pace he needed. his breath stuttered, hips stuttering up into your joined hands, and he groaned again, deep and wrecked.

“just like that,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “just—yeah, fuck, just like that—”

you leaned in, lips brushing against the curve of his neck, breathing him in—warm skin, sweat, the faintest trace of cologne. his pulse pounded beneath your mouth, a frantic, needy rhythm that matched the way his hips jerked under your joined hands.

felix let out a groan, deep and broken, his fingers tightening over yours as if to anchor himself. his body trembled, every muscle going taut, his breath hitching on a sharp inhale. you pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his throat, feeling the vibrations of his next moan as it tore from his lips.

"fuck—" his voice cracked, desperate, wrecked. his cock throbbed in your grip, twitching violently.

before you knew it, thick, hot ropes of white spilled onto his stomach, streaking his skin, each pulse met with a shuddering gasp. his whole body tensing, fingers digging into yours as if he couldn’t handle the intensity alone. you kept stroking him, slower now, working him through it, feeling every pulse, every aftershock.

felix let out a strangled whimper, hips twitching, oversensitive but unwilling to let go of your hand just yet. his head fell back against the couch, chest heaving, skin flushed and damp with sweat. his lashes fluttered, his lips parted, completely undone beneath you.

felix let out a breathy laugh, his body still twitching with the aftershocks, and murmured, "my goodness…" his voice was hoarse and it made something warm curl low in your stomach.

you kissed him before he could say anything else, soft and slow, tasting his lingering gasps on your tongue. he melted into it, groaning lightly as he kissed you back, his lips parting under yours, lazy and pliant, like he was still coming down from the high.

when you finally pulled away, you brushed your nose against his and murmured, "you feel better?"

he blinked, dazed, then dropped his gaze down to his stomach, where his release streaked his skin, before shifting slightly, wincing. his eyes flickered toward his side, the sting of his injury grounding him again. you followed his gaze, fingers ghosting over the spot instinctively.

“honestly, i forgot about it.” he grinned sheepishly. his thumb brushed lightly over your skin, and his voice was softer this time, lower. "thank you, baby."

day 8 - 15:00

the door to the beach house clicked shut behind you, the sound oddly final as you both stepped forward onto the road. something made you turn back, eyes trailing over the familiar windows, the sand-dusted porch, the memories woven into every inch of the place.

“you’re gonna miss this beautiful home,” you murmured, taking it all in. “and all the stuff that happened in it… and behind it.”

felix glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

just then, a seagull soared overhead, its wings cutting through the blue, like it had just launched from the rooftop. your gaze followed it before a thought struck you, your eyes flicking back to felix.

“let’s go see it?” you asked, tilting your head toward the house.

felix nodded. “yeah, let’s go.”

you both made your way around the back, where the slanted roof was just within reach. the nest had been there for days, nestled in a spot just out of sight from the ground. felix stopped beneath it and looked at you with an all-too-familiar glint in his eyes.

“hop on,” he said, crouching slightly.

you hesitated, eyeing his injured side. “felix—”

“i got it,” he cut in, already holding his hands out to steady you.

you sighed, but there was no real fight left in you. carefully, you placed your hands on his shoulders before swinging a leg over, trying not to think too hard about the fact that his grip on your waist was firm, steady. he lifted you with ease, and as you straightened, your head finally peeked over the edge of the roof.

and there it was—the nest, barely held together by twigs and bits of seaweed, cradling one tiny, wrinkled, pink bird. it was ugly in the most endearing way, its barely-there fuzz shifting as it moved.

you gasped, a soft coo escaping your lips.

“what is it?” felix asked from below, trying to look up without tipping you over.

still balancing on his shoulders, you fumbled in your pocket for the small digital camera you’d been carrying around. you lifted it, fingers quick as you framed the moment, the lens capturing the fragile little thing in all its awkward glory before clicking the shutter.

you brought the camera down, grinning as you glanced at the tiny screen. felix craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse.

“oh my gosh,” he blurted, eyes wide as he finally saw the picture. “it looks so ill.”

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “i think that’s just how they’re supposed to look.” you glanced back at the nest, then at him, still giggling. “not everyone’s born cute, you know.”

felix made a face, amused. “that’s… reassuring.”

still balanced on his shoulders, you snapped a few more photos from different angles, capturing the little bird’s ugly charm. felix stayed steady beneath you, his hands secure at your shins, making sure you didn’t wobble too much.

“okay,” you finally said, slipping the camera back into your pocket. “i think i got enough.”

felix hummed. “alright, down you go.”

slowly, his hands slid to your waist, fingers curling gently as he helped guide you down. he lowered you with ease, making sure your feet were firmly on the ground before letting go.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

you nodded, smiling up at him. “yeah. you’re a very reliable ladder.”

felix grinned, scrunching his nose. “anytime.”

as you stepped away from the house, the moment still lingered between you, like the warmth of the sun clinging to your skin. felix walked beside you, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest second before he pulled away, reaching for your suitcase.

you sighed, reaching for the handle. “you’re hurt. give it to me.”

he held it tighter, grinning like he wasn’t wincing slightly. “this is nothing. i got it.”

“no, you don’t.” you stopped walking, crossing your arms. 

felix huffed, but when he saw the dead-serious look on your face, he relented, letting you take the handle from him. “you’re so stubborn,” he mumbled.

“says you,” you shot back, adjusting your grip on the luggage.

the bus stop was just ahead, the blue sign swaying slightly with the breeze. you pulled your bag over your shoulder, the weight of it grounding you. felix glanced at you, then back ahead, kicking a stray rock with the toe of his shoe.

“so, how long are you alone for?” you asked.

“my parents come back tomorrow morning,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. “we’ll be here for two days after that, and then i’m heading back to sydney.”

you nodded, lips pressing together. 

felix exhaled softly. “i’m gonna miss you.”

you blinked at him, tilting your head. “felix, it’s only a couple days.”

“still,” he said, bumping your arm with his. “i mean, i had so much fun.”

you smiled, nudging him back. “me too.”

and you really, really meant it.

the two of you kept walking, the bus stop coming into view at the end of the street. the air between you felt light, but there was still something lingering—like neither of you really wanted this walk to end just yet.

felix glanced over at you, a lazy smile playing at his lips. “so,” he started, swinging your suitcase slightly as he rolled it along. “what was really your favorite part of the trip?”

you let out a small chuckle, remembering the last time he’d asked you that. things had been different then—tense, uncertain, like you were both walking on eggshells around each other. now, it felt easy. natural.

still, you decided to mess with him. you tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think. “mmm… definitely bleeding in the middle of the ocean.”

felix let out a loud laugh, his head tipping back. “oh my god,” he wheezed. “that was horrifying.”

you grinned, shrugging. “hey, at least it was eventful.”

“i swear i thought you were about to be shark food,” he said, shaking his head. 

“oh, i loved that night on the yacht when i started drinking,” you said suddenly, a teasing lilt in your voice.

felix groaned dramatically, running a hand down his face. “oh gosh, i’m a terrible influence. what am i doing to you?”

you laughed, bumping his arm. “relax.”

“no, seriously.” he shook his head, feigning horror. “your parents leave you with me for one week, and when you come back, they find out their daughter’s boyfriend let her drink?”

you raised an eyebrow. “well, technically, you weren’t even there when i started drinking.”

felix threw his hands up. “still!”

you giggled, watching the way he genuinely looked like he was rethinking every life choice. “felix, i wouldn’t worry about it.”

he gave you a side-eye, lips twitching. “mmm… i feel like you just saying that isn’t super reassuring.”

you grinned, shrugging. “guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

felix sighed, shaking his head like he was suffering. “great. now i have that on my conscience forever.”

“oh, please,” you teased. “you’ve done way worse.”

he gasped. “like what?”

you smirked. “i’m keeping a list.”

felix groaned again, but he was smiling because he knew what this was about.

by the time you reached the bus stop, the bus was already there, idling at the curb with its doors open, passengers filing in one by one. you hadn’t realized how much time you’d spent by the bird’s nest, how easily you’d gotten caught up in just being with felix. now, standing in line with him beside you, it was sinking in—this was goodbye, even if just for a little while.

felix exhaled, rocking on his heels. “i’m gonna miss you, y/n.” his voice was quiet, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud, but he felt it too much to keep it in.

you looked up at him, offering a small smile. “you’ll be back to sydney soon.”

he nodded, but there was something reluctant about it, like it wasn’t really the distance that was bothering him. “and also back to school,” he muttered, face scrunching in dismay.

you chuckled, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “the real tragedy.”

felix huffed a soft laugh, but it faded quickly as he looked at you, his expression softening again. his fingers brushed against yours, like he wanted to hold onto you but wasn’t sure if he should. you took the decision out of his hands, shifting closer, voice dropping to something more sincere.

“i love you, felix,” you murmured. “thank you for letting me stay here.”

felix blinked, his lips parting slightly like he wanted to say something, but he just nodded instead. his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and then, before you could react, his arms were around you, pulling you into his chest.

you melted into him instantly, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the way his heartbeat thudded against yours. he held you so tightly, like if he just held on long enough, maybe time would slow down, maybe this moment wouldn’t have to end so soon.

his breathing was shaky, his shoulders rising and falling unevenly, and it didn’t take much to realize he was holding back tears. felix had always been soft like that, felt things so deeply.

you pretended not to notice, just holding him closer, running a soothing hand along his back.

“i love you too,” he whispered, the words barely there, but you felt them more than anything.

and then, before you could even process it, he pulled back just enough to press a quick, fleeting kiss to your lips—warm and desperate, full of everything he wasn’t saying. it was over almost as soon as it started, but the feeling lingered, the taste of salt and sunlight and felix still on your lips as he pulled away.

you were at the front of the line now. the driver glanced at you expectantly, but you barely noticed, too caught in the way felix was still holding your hand, his grip firm but unwilling.

“be safe,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

you nodded, squeezing his fingers one last time before slowly pulling away. he let go like he didn’t want to, his hand lingering in the air for a second before he dropped it to his side.

you took a step forward onto the bus, glancing back at him one last time. he was still standing there, watching you with those soft, stormy eyes, lips pressed together like he was still trying not to let everything spill over.

you smiled gently. he smiled back.

inside the bus, you found a seat near the window, tucking your bag beside you as you settled in. the hum of the bus, the low murmur of other passengers, the faint smell of worn leather seats—it all felt strangely distant, like white noise in the background of something bigger, something heavier pressing against your chest.

the ride was only two hours.

it would go by fast if you just let yourself sleep.

with a soft sigh, you leaned your head against the window, watching as felix took a small step back from the curb. he was still there, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly slumped, staring at the bus like he could still see you through the tinted glass. for a second, you almost thought he could.

the ride  was only two hours.

it would go by fast if you just let yourself sleep.

you had spent the last few minutes pretending it wasn’t that bad, pretending it didn’t hurt to leave. you told yourself it was only two days. that you’d see felix again soon, that sydney wasn’t that far, that it wasn’t a big deal.

but now, as the bus gave a slight lurch forward and the distance between you stretched just a little more, something in your chest twisted.

you swallowed thickly, blinking up at the ceiling to keep it at bay, but a single tear slipped down the outer corner of your eye, trailing along your temple before disappearing into your hair. you shut your eyes tightly, inhaling slow and deep, like that might help push the ache away.

it wasn’t just about felix.

sure, not seeing him, not being with him for even a few days felt like a weight you weren’t ready to carry. but it was more than that.

you were heading straight back to the unknown.

school. the pressure. the expectations. the scary parts of it all that made your stomach knot up when you thought too hard about them.

the bus picked up speed, the scenery shifting, the ocean slipping out of view, and you curled in on yourself just a little, hugging your arms as you pressed your forehead against the cool window.

and you were gonna miss this place. 

this place—this stretch of coastline, the beautiful home, the hammock beneath the shade of the trees—had become something special, because of him. it felt right to leave those words here, like they belonged in the air around you, woven into the sunlight and the sea breeze. love was in the air on the east coast.

and you had known that by now. you had felt it in the way people greeted each other in passing, always with a smile or a friendly wave. everyone seemed to know everyone else, as if the whole town was one big, extended family. it wasn’t just a place—it was a community, woven together by familiarity and kindness, where laughter drifted from front porches and children ran barefoot through the sand.

everywhere you looked, there was beauty—not just in the scenery but in the way life unfolded here, slow and steady, like the tides. the mornings brought soft fog rolling in over the water, afternoons sparkled under a brilliant sun, and evenings painted the horizon in shades of amber and violet.

felix had truly grown up in this world. not in sydney, with its bustling streets and endless noise, but here, in this quiet coastal haven. this was his home, not just because he lived here, but because it had shaped him. you could feel it in the way he moved, in the way he spoke about the sea and the sky, as though they weren’t just elements of nature but old friends. he carried the calm of the ocean within him, the steadiness of the earth beneath his feet, and the warmth of the sun in the way he smiled. he was like this place: quiet yet full of life, unassuming yet unforgettable.

this place had done something to you too. it changed the way you saw things, made you more present, more aware of life’s simplest joys. and as the horizon blurred in the distance, fading behind you, a bittersweet ache settled deep in your chest. you didn’t just love felix. you loved this world he had invited you into. it was his, and it had become a part of you.

you realized, as the wind carried the faint scent of salt and pine, that you were leaving more than just a place. you were leaving a feeling, a way of being, a piece of yourself you would carry forever. and you knew that even though you were moving forward, a part of you would always be here—where the ocean kissed the shore, where life moved slow and steady, where you first learned what it truly meant to love.

this summer would stay with you, etched into your soul like sunlight on water. the sights, the sounds, the way the air had felt heavy with promise—it would all come back to you in moments when you least expected it. and whenever you closed your eyes, you’d see it again: the endless stretch of beach, the way felix smiled at you beneath the dappled light, and the love that had taken root in your heart without you even realizing it.

you sighed, shifting in your seat as the road stretched endlessly ahead. the weight in your chest hadn’t lightened, but you forced yourself to breathe through it, to let the steady hum of the bus lull you into something close to peace.

then, almost instinctively, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone.

it had barely crossed your mind all week—not because you didn’t have it, but because you didn’t need it. there had been no urge to scroll mindlessly, no need to check for updates or messages, no impulse to fill the quiet with artificial noise. you had been there, completely and wholly, connected to everything around you—the ocean, the trees, the laughter, him.

but now, with nothing but miles of road ahead and the place you loved shrinking behind you, you unlocked the screen, feeling the strange disconnect settle in again.

then your phone vibrated.

your heart skipped a beat at the name flashing across the screen.

felix.

you barely hesitated before swiping to answer, bringing the phone up to your ear.

“hi, felix,” you murmured, a small smile already tugging at your lips.

“hi, y/n,” he sounded the same as he always did—gentle, warm, like summer.

you curled up against the window, eyes drifting over the trees blurring past. “miss me already?”

“shut up.”

this summer wasn’t just a season. it was a beginning. and you will always remember this summer.

[sparklecarehospital]

Okay. Here's my next post I said I would make. I want to start off the bat by saying this post isn't me trying to win anyone over or change anyone's minds about me. This post is mostly for myself and the people out there who do understand and care still. This is sort of just. Putting this out there because I have nothing left to lose at this point and I may as well set my story straight. I know the people who hate me right now are probably not even gonna read this or care or will find a way to twist what I'm saying. But I'm just... speaking my truth at this point.

This is about Sleeve. I'm aware that some private stuff related to them has been shared without my consent and they as a ship are being dramatically misrepresented with things being taken heavily out of context just to make me look bad. I guess what I'm trying to do here is just tell the truth and not care if people don't like it. Additionally, this is the last thing I'm posting for now. I may as well stand up for what matters to me even if I stand alone.

Firstly, I need to make it clear what they even are. Eve is referred to as a self insert. This never meant she was a 1 to 1 copy of me but rather a character that I live vicariously through. She shares some of my interests, and I use her to represent myself, but I don't... act like her. In all honesty, MOST of my OCs could be called self inserts because I project heavily onto all of them. But Eve is different than everyone else.

The screenshots in the callout describing Sly as a character are not accurate representations of who she is or her narrative. The "creepy" comments are JOKES. Sly and Eve's entire narrative (in secret canon) is based around my trauma and a way that I process it. And the reality is, they are the most important thing I have ever made for myself. They make me happier than literally anything else. The fact they're being exposed to the world when they were the one thing that was supposed to be untouchable by the crit community because everything about secret canon and their story was not something anything knew. They were supposed to be my one safety net, my security blanket that nobody could ever touch and nobody could ever taint.

In secret canon, the reason that Sly cuts off Eve is because after the falling out with Ally and Howie she started feeling for Eve what she felt for Howie and she knew that was bad and it scared her. She had a nightmare about hurting Eve, and that was the breaking point. She pushed Eve away to protect her. I guess in a way this narrative is sort of a fantastical scenario where I wish the way I was hurt when I was a kid was just like Eve, being pushed away and abandoned just to keep me safe instead of being hurt. That vent comic I made that used them as figures was based around a therapy session I had with my therapist where I fully realized just how heavily my abuse changed me on a fundamental level.

Their story and presence in my life and what Sly represented was me trying to hold onto this dumb fantasy that I could have been protected instead of hurt. I wanted to imagine if I had to be hurt I wish it could have been out of love and to keep me safe instead of being taken advantage of. The things about them that were shared very conveniently excluded any of this context because all of this was just people trying to ruin my life for no good reason. And it worked.

Sly and Eve have never brought me anything but happiness. They don't hurt me. They bring me so much comfort and joy and security. Nothing has ever made me feel so happy. And you know what? It was actually pretty painful to not be able to openly love them. It's painful to be forced to hide the thing that makes you happiest. But I kept it private because it didn't concern anyone else and I understood not everyone reacts to trauma in the same way. My comfort stuff was never going to be public, no matter how much it hurt to have to hide something that I loved so so so much. I guess I really latched onto Cometcare because it was a way I could still draw them at all even if I kept most things private because there was more to them than this stuff, they had other stuff about their characters that was worth sharing.

Again. This post is not me trying to win anyone over or change anyone's minds about me. I know nobody will budge if they've already decided what kind of person I am because of this. This post is just... For me. And the few people who still believe in me. If everything I've ever made is being aired out against my will... I may as well tell the whole truth because I have nothing left to lose. Nothing I say is going to make anything better. No amount of justifying or defending myself or explanations will matter to anyone so why should I keep hiding myself?

The least I can do is stand up for my one biggest comfort because I refuse to let them be misrepresented. They're too important to me to let hundreds of strangers rip to shreds just because I am a victim who copes in a way you don't agree with. Nobody can ruin them for me. Nobody can take them away from me.

I don't know what I'm going to do at this point in time. For a bit I decided the comic was being canceled and I'm taking my animals back (that does NOT mean incest btw, that means my OCs in general) because nobody else could be kind to them. And like. I didn't see a point in continuing when everything is public anyways. It's not like I can just completely rewrite everything now that the whole story plot is public because I don't WANT to do that.

I have some thoughts about my next steps but nothing is certain right now. Just a lot of thinking to be done.

I'm not killing myself. I probably would have if this happened a year ago but I'm stronger than I used to be. There's also still a possibility I will end up cancelling everything after all. I don't know. I just need time to recover from this.

If you still believe in me and don't hate me, thank you. Your kindness is heard and felt and very appreciated. Literally anything positive means everything to me right now.

Sly loves Eve forever

[louisupdates]

Louis Tomlinson has said it's a 'dream come true' as he prepares to return to a Manchester event for the first time in nine years.

The former One Direction member has been in the city for a number of gigs in recent years as a solo act, including his gig at the AO Arena, on November 11, 2023.

With the first details of Soccer Aid being released on Tuesday March 11), it was announced that Louis is returning to the match eight years after his original appearance in 2016.

Louis' last Soccer Aid apperance, held in Manchester United's Old Trafford stadium, saw him part of an England team that beat the Rest of The World 3-2. One highlight of the event, saw Louis shush his former bandmate Niall Horan from the sidelines after England took the lead.

The 33-year-old will be taking part in the 2025 edition of Soccer Aid, set to be held at Old Trafford, Manchester, on Father's Day, Sunday, June 15.

Speaking about the game, Louis said: "Manchester! It's about ten years since I last turned out for Soccer Aid, so I thought it was about time I returned to the pitch. As everyone knows, I am a massive football fan so playing with some legends of the game is a dream come true.

"Wayne Rooney with Tyson Fury in the manager’s seat – it’s gonna be a good one! It’s all for an amazing cause: UNICEF. Please buy your tickets and support the incredible work they do.”

Louis will be co-managed by the unlikely duo of Tyson Fury and former Man United player Wayne Rooney, who is also coming out of retirement to play.

Wayne said: “I enjoyed the last time I was involved at Soccer Aid so much that when the call came for the 2025 match it was a really easy decision! I’m a big boxing fan, so to do it alongside Tyson Fury is fantastic. It really sums up how brilliant Soccer Aid is. We have this in common: we’ll both be taking it incredibly seriously!

"Obviously it’s great to lace-up the old boots again – and see some old friends – but the cause is the real reason we are doing this. UNICEF needs our help. So, I promise we’ll put on a show for you this June if you buy your tickets to help raise money for UNICEF and for children around the world.”

Tyson Fury added: “Tyson Fury: ENGLAND MANAGER! Who would ever have thought it!? I have had some big fights in my career and the prospect of leading my England team to victory this June fills me with just as much excitement as any heavyweight fight!

"Everyone knows that I am a huge Manchester United fan too, so it’s even more special for me that the game is at Old Trafford this year – and I get to manage one of my heroes, Wayne Rooney! How can we lose!? The work UNICEF does all around the world is so special and so important. I really hope that you can come along and support us this summer.”

Making their Soccer Aid debuts are Manchester streamer Angry Ginge, Joe Hart, Nadia Nadim, Steph Houghton, Toni Duggan and Leonardo Bonucci.

Among the returnees for Soccer Aid 2025, which will air for free on ITV and ITVX, is Harry Redknapp, Vicky McClure, David James, Paddy McGuinness, Gary Neville, Paul Scholes, Jermain Defoe, Jill Scott, Tom Grennan, Sam Thompson and Sir Mo Farah.

Tickets for the game are on sale now via socceraid.org.uk/tickets – adult tickets from £20 and juniors from £10. Tickets include access to a pre-game ‘Fan Zone’ and ‘Player Arrivals Area’

[wandascosmic]

typical tuesday night (10)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

part ten of 'you belong with me' series

summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office

word count: 1796

tags: swearing, mostly just fun, one-sided pining as usual, sam being insane as usual, wanda and y/n best friendship, y/n may or may not making moves/internally screaming, they're very very cute

taglist: @reginassweetheart @rroyale-109 @marvel-posts @sheriffhaughtearp

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

“Okay, she had done a background check on me,” Bruce says. “She had it printed out.”

“No way,” you say.

“Yeah,” Bruce nods. “And she was asking me stuff line by line while we were having dinner.”

“That’s unbelievable,” you answer as everyone laughs in agreement.

Suddenly, Wanda walks into the kitchen holding a mug of tea, smiling as she walks over to stand next to you.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Oh, we’re doing worst first dates,” you answer with a smile.

“Oh my god, I win,” Wanda says, eyes widened.

“What?” you laugh.

“Okay,” Wanda starts, and you look over to her curiously. “It was a minor league hockey game, he brought his brother,” she pauses. “A when I went to the bathroom, the game ended. And they forgot about me.”

“Okay, that’s a joke,” Bruce says.

“No,” Wanda shakes her head. “They had to come back for me.”

“Wait, when was this?” you ask.

“Um..it was not that long ago,” Wanda gives a small laugh.

“Wait, no way it was Vision,” Natasha says, putting down her sandwich.

Wanda laughs awkwardly before looking over to you.

You smile, walking in front of her and starting to lead her out. “Want to go play Dwight’s mug basketball?”

Wanda nods with a relieved sigh, following you out eagerly.

You keep a happy expression on your face, because now you finally know why Wanda’s always refused to go to sports games with Vision.

“Shield Industries, this is Wanda,” Wanda answers the phone.

“Wanda, it’s Tony. I need you to go into my office and read some data for me please.”

“Okay,” Wanda says, picking up the book Tony’s requested her to read in his office. “You want me to read the jokes for you?”

“Yes, please,” Tony responds on speakerphone.

“Okay, um, a fisherman is walking down 5th Avenue leading an animal behind him–”

“No, no, nope!” Tony cuts Wanda off. “I already told that joke to Fury earlier at the dinner. Pick another one.”

“Okay. There’s a transcript between a Naval ship–”

“Oh, yeah! Bingo,” Tony says. “Great, thanks, Wanda!”

“Sure,” Wanda says awkwardly. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m good. But would you be able to put all those joke books back where you found them?”

“Sure,” Wanda agrees, hanging up the phone with a sigh.

Opening up the drawer to return the books strewn across Tony’s desk, Wanda’s eye immediately catches a thick stack of paper. Picking it up, Wanda has to cover her mouth to stop from bursting out in laughter.

You’re mindlessly clicking your mouse when suddenly, a huge stack of stapled paper is thrown onto your desk.

Reading the title, your eyes widen as you look over to Wanda who leans against the table casually.

“Is this real?” you ask, near giddy.

“It’s a screenplay,” Wanda pauses. “Starring himself.” “Agent Iron Man,” you read out.

“Of the FBI,” Wanda finishes.

“How long is this?” you laugh, flipping through the pages. “Oh my god, Wanda. Good work.”

Wanda laughs.

“Oh, no way,” you say, finding the last few pages and holding them up. “Drawings.”

“What is that?” Wanda asks.

“Oh, those are drawings,” you respond easily. “In case the writing didn’t really put a picture in your head.”

Wanda snickers, biting her lip to keep from laughing too hard.

“And there he is, in the flesh,” you say, pointing to the drawing. “Agent Iron Man. Now we know what he looks like.”

“So, do we all have our copy of Armored Adventures, by Tony Stark?” you ask the office staff gathered around the conference room table.

Everyone makes a sound of agreement.

“Great, so, let’s get started. I’m gonna be reading the action descriptions,” you say. “And Steve, I would like you to play Captain America, the first Avenger.”

“Oh, cool that’s the name of the character?” Steve asks.

Suddenly, Sam barges into the room, and angered expression on his face. “Okay, you guys should not be doing this,” he states firmly.

“Why not, Sam?” you ask. “This is a movie. This is for all of America to enjoy.”

“You took something that does not belong to you,” he responds.

“Sam.”

“You brought it in here, you made copies–”

“Sam, do you want to play the lead role of Agent Iron Man?” you ask, giving him a questioning look.

Sam pauses.

“Okay, sure.”

“Inside the FBI, Agent Iron Man sits with his feet up at the desk,” you read. “Captain America enters.”

“Tony, you have some messages,” Steve reads.

“Not now!” Sam reads emphatically.

“They’re important,” Steve says.

“Fine, what are they?” Sam asks.

A few moments pass, when suddenly, a knock on the door is heard.

“Vision,” Wanda says, making you turn around suddenly, noticing the man.

Wanda runs up, greeting him with a kiss. “Hey, um, I have to work late,” she says.

Vision gives her an incredulous look, hearing the absurd scene between Spider-Man and Agent Iron Man currently being read in the conference room. “You’re joking, right?”

Wanda shakes her head.

“Agent Iron Man takes out a nine millimeter gun and shoots the cake to bits,” you read.

Sam imitates the shooting of the cake.

“Ha ha ha, Agent Iron Man, you’re so funny,” Peter says.

“A man sitting several seats down who has clown makeup on, turns to Agent Iron Man,” you turn to Bruce. “Bruce, want to play the Joker?”

“Sure,” Bruce nods, clearing his throat. “Agent Iron Man, perhaps you would be more comfortable in my clown car?”

“Yes, perhaps I would, Joker,” Sam says. “Spider-Man, get my luggage.”

“Sorry, I forgot it,” Peter reads.

“God, Spider-Man, you’re a terrible assistant!” Sam reads. “I can’t believe I hired you, Sem.” Sam pauses. “Wait, who’s Sem?”

You turn to Wanda with an amused smile, who matches your expression.

“I don’t think the search and replace works on typos,” Wanda says to you through a burgeoning smile.

“So, Spider-Man is the terrible assistant ‘causing the downfall of the United States?” you ask, holding back your laughter.

“Also known as Sam Wilson,” Wanda chuckles.

You and Wanda look over to Sam, who before your eyes, realizes what Tony has done, making the man throw the script onto the table in anger.

“Okay, you know what, this is stupid. I’m done,” he says, abruptly sitting up from his chair and leaving the conference room.

“Sam, some of us want to keep reading,” you tell him.

Sam turns to you. “Uh, you don’t speak for everyone, Y/N,” he responds, crossing his arms, before turning to the rest of the office. “Okay, announcement. My uncle bought me some fireworks. And anyone who wants to see a real show come outside with me right now.”

“That’s actually a pretty good idea,” you nod, starting to sit up from your chair. “We’ll all take a brief intermission.” You turn to Wanda. “Hey, are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” Wanda says, grateful you’ve asked.

“Yeah?” you ask. “Okay, come with me.”

While you may have had plans to meet a friend tonight, which you’ve now had to cancel, spending your evening preparing grilled cheese sandwiches for you and Wanda in the office kitchen isn’t something you’re upset at whatsoever. In fact, you would say it’s pretty great, and you’re not really a complainer either.

“Hi,” Wanda says, greeting you as you make your way up the ladder to the roof of the building, holding a box of accessories for the two of you as you watch the fireworks together.

“Hey,” you laugh, setting the box down before making your way to sit in the chair next to hers. “What’s that for?” you ask, pointing to the candle she’s attempting to light.

“For the bugs,” she answers easily.

“Nice,” you nod, before turning to grab the sandwiches you’ve prepared. “That’s great, because bugs, tend to love my famous grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Them and me both,” Wanda laughs, grabbing the plate you’ve made for her. Then, after a moment, she speaks, “I can’t remember the last time someone made me diner.”

You pause, before grabbing your sandwich from the bag as well.

“Oh, look,” Wanda points to the fireworks Sam’s beginning to light. “Wow,” you say, finally enjoying something Sam has created in the 7 years you’ve known him.

“They’re really nice,” Wanda states, before resting her head on your shoulder as the two of you spend the evening watching the sparkling lights together.

“They really are,” you say quietly.

“So, I guess I’ll see you in,” Wanda pauses to check her phone. “10 hours,” she grins.

“Mhm,” you nod, following her out the building.

“What are you gonna do with your time off?” she jokes.

“Travel,” you answer easily with a nod. “I’ve been looking forward to it.” You smile. “I’m gonna really find myself, you know?” you finish, fishing your phone out of your pocket and putting in one of your earbuds.

Wanda looks over to you curiously. “You have new music?” she asks.

You look down to your phone. “Oh, yeah! Want to listen?” You offer her the other earbud.

Wanda nods, smiling as you hand her the earbud she immediately places in her ear, the two of you standing within inches of each other as you share your song.

“Wanda,” you run up to her desk excitedly the second you walk in the next day.

“Yeah?” Wanda laughs.

“I think Tony might’ve gotten together with someone from corporate last night,” you say, making Wanda gasp. “He didn’t come back for his car.”

“Oh, my god, that makes so much sense! That’s why Tony had me read out his stupid jokes over the phone,” she says in realization.

“Well, good for him. I don’t think he’s had a first date, in like ever,” you laugh, before looking over to her. “You know, some might say we even had our first date last night,” you smile.

“Oh really?” Wanda asks. “Why might some say that?”

“Uh, ‘cause there was dinner. By candlelight,” you answer.

“Mhm,” Wanda nods.

“Dinner and a show, if you include Tony’s movie,” you continue. “There was a bit of dancing, and fireworks. So, pretty good date.” “We didn’t dance,” Wanda says, chuckling.

“You’re right,” you say, suddenly feeling very awkward as you put your hands in your pockets. “But um, it was more like, swaying.”

“Right,” Wanda says. “Pretty good first date with you.”

You perk up. “Thanks.”

“Mhm,” Wanda nods. “Now, I have some faxes to get out, okay?” she says, standing up from her chair, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading to the fax machine.

You smile, watching her leave, forgetting for a moment that it truly isn’t a date if the girl goes home to her fiancé at the end of the day.

[urhoneycombwitch]

This may not work cos it would have to be like a modern!steddie, but the prompt

“It's only a proper date night if we're all there!”

feels sooooooo steddie to me. Like if eddie was away for a show or something and you and steve were going to dinner, he’d be all pouty until steve put his phone in his jacket pocket and stayed on FaceTime the whole date so he could be there.

- def not @rebelfell she would NEVER

foreword: CAUGHT YA rebelfell in the inbox u knoooooww it’s gonna b good!! okay since I’m keeping my Steddie x R world in the late 80’s/early 90’s I got creative with the pre-FaceTime ways of phone usage! exists in the same world as this Steddie mlist of mine but no need to read beforehand. xx

cw: R is referred to w/ she/her pronouns, R wears a dress + has breasts, Eddie being Pathetic™️, alcohol consumption, lack of restaurant manners

wc: 1.6k

___

It’s ten minutes past the time you and Steve were supposed to leave for dinner reservations but you’re both busy- you with a last-minute jewelry change, Steve with a call that just rang in to the landline.

He’s got the corded phone jammed between ear and shoulder, shaking out the opposing sleeve of his nice dinner jacket while speaking distractedly to the person on the line. “Yeah, I get it. Totally blows and I do feel for ya, I really do-”

There’s a sharp scoff of crackly incredulity from the other end. Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, okay, so maybe I don’t feel too bad since you did this to yourself.”

Steve listens to his boyfriend's stream of woe, using the brief interlude to multitask and pull on one of his black dress shoes before interrupting- “Sweetheart, you know that excuse won’t hold up in her court. Gonna have to take the loss and grovel later, that’s the best advice I got-”

“Smart boy,” you quip, floating into the trailer’s kitchen swathed in red velvet and slipping a second glittering crystal earring into your lobe. “I assume that’s our jilted lover you’re speaking with? Tell him the prison he’s in currently is self-made. And also that we need to leave.”

Steve closes his mouth from when it had dropped open upon seeing the amount of cleavage your dress allowed. 

He nods solemnly, fiddling with his tie, honeyed eyes warm and locked on your form even as he speaks into the receiver- “She said… somethin’ about a jail. And that we gotta go. Honestly, man, my mind is mostly blank right now, and if you could see her you’d understand why.” 

It’s your turn for a fond eye roll, crossing the laminate kitchen flooring for your pair of navy pumps next to Steve’s feet. 

Eddie’s voice is distinct enough through the speaker, though you can’t make out any words- Steve listens, holding out a hand for you to take and balance with as you step into your shoes until Eddie’s words end. 

“Hold on, I’ll ask her-” Steve covers the receiver, conspiratorial and faux-serious- “Our boyfriend is requesting I describe the general look and feel of your ass in this dress since he’s not here to see it himself.”

You smack Steve lightly on the arm and he chuckles into the phone, at least having the decency to look flustered when you crowd in to talk to Eddie, using deliberate and spine-chilling emphasis: “If you wanted to come to dinner with me and my spectacular ass, you should’ve requested the night off like I told you, months ago.” 

With this final word, you reach past Steve for your overcoat, body pressing into the length of his as he stammers out, “Y-yeah, that’s, uh- that’s all folks. Sorry pal. You heard the judge.”

Steve thumbs gently over the crook of your elbow before hanging up the phone, then helps you into your coat. “Honey, you don’t think you’re being… just a tad harsh on him? He’s even worse than I am, with dates, you really can’t blame the guy for-”

“Two months.” Your voice is unwavering, with a finality that makes Steve want to bend for you immediately, no matter the cost. “He had a whole eight weeks to put a request in for a single night away from the garage. With all the times we brought it up since then and now, I don’t feel bad for him and neither should you.”

Steve smooths a hand down the pretty line of the back of your neck, the soft slope disappearing into the collar of that red fabric. The only ‘bad’ he feels is his errant partner getting to miss out on seeing you. “Heard loud and clear, boss. Your chariot awaits.”

___

Luckily it’s no big issue that your Enzo’s reservation was originally intended for three; you and Steve are seated within minutes of your arrival at a cozy table near the far wall of the room. 

Of the three of you, Steve is the designated sommelier (i.e., has stolen enough during high school from his father’s private reserves to know generally what’s what), so you let him order a bottle for the table. 

The waiter pours a glass each, and you twirl the stem between your fingers, watching the plummy color slide down the insides of the glass walls.

“Got it to match,” Steve says, taking a sip, sliding his free hand palm-up on the table for you to take.

At the quirk of your brow, he explains further, pulling the back of your hand up to his lips for a quick kiss- “To match your dress. And my cheeks, too, apparently- christ, you’re hot.”

A genuine beam lights up your face; giving Steve’s hand a squeeze, you tilt your head- “Safe to say you’re a little obsessed?”

“A lottle.”

You both giggle at that, until you’re interrupted by a wait staff member who approaches and asks for you by name. 

“My apologies, miss- there’s a call waiting for you.” The waiter holds out the restaurant’s cordless phone for you to take, then promptly leaves. 

Your eyes cut daggers into the chunk of white plastic in your hand, and Steve clears his throat, shifting uneasily, muttering “Oh boy” before you bring the receiver up to your ear. 

“Hello.” 

“Princess!” Eddie sounds much too happy for your liking as you’d prefer silent and remorseful thinking to be taking place, instead. “Holy shit, can’t believe they put me through to you. You guys order entrees yet? Stevie talked you into some overpriced ditchwater alcohol, I’m sure.”

You almost can’t hear Eddie over the amount of irritation and upset rushing through your auditory system, heart thumping fast under the gold locket between your breasts, a present from both of your boyfriends. “Eddie Munson. I really, actually, don’t want to hear it.”

“Babe, c’mon-” Eddie sighs. In the background, there’s distant clanking and various car repair noises- you guess Eddie’s using his uncle’s office phone to call. “I’m sorry. Okay? I fucked the date up, that’s on me, but I’m on break right now and I just wanted to hear your voice-”

“Well, you’re hearing it now.” You’re not sure how much longer you can keep up the quickly-thinning veil of anger around your words, tears welling faster than you can keep them at bay, voice cracking three words in- “I just wanted- I wanted you here.”

Steve watches you quietly from across the table, picking up your hand again and frowning when he sees the almost-tears forming. You squeeze back, using his touch as a grounding lifeline when Eddie speaks again.

“Baby. I’m so sorry.” To his credit, Eddie does sound genuinely pained, which eases your anger to a low level, sadness taking the lead. 

Your eyes drop to the cloth napkin in swan formation on your plate, and you sniffle. “Well, sorry doesn’t make you magically appear.”

“Give me a week and I’ll build you a teleportation device. Seriously. Dunno if it’s possible but I shall make it so.” There’s a rhythmic tick tick on the other end, familiar to your music-loving boy- he must be tapping a pen against the desk. Your heart aches with love. 

“A week’s no good,” you reply, smiling soft at your other boy, holding his hand, still- “How ‘bout now?”

Eddie’s quiet on the other end until he says, cautiously- “I think a quantum crystal’s gonna be a little hard to find this time of night, but I’ll do my best-”

“No,” you laugh, and Steve grins upon hearing it- “I mean, I’ll put you on speaker for the rest of your break. But you better behave yourself.”

Eddie swears his fealty and sings your praises before you hit the speaker button, resting the phone upright on the table. The speaker feature is luckily on a low volume, and with the background music of the restaurant it’s unlikely anyone but you and Steve will be hearing it. 

“This is cool as hell,” Eddie says, voice tinny but certainly audible. “Stevieboy, set the scene for me. Exactly how plunging is the neckline you’re staring at?”

Steve leans in as if he’s about to give a genuine answer and you snatch the phone back, keeping it on speaker but growling into the receiver- “Munson. Thin. Ice.”

Playing nice, you set the chunk of plastic back down and ask, demure- “What did you call Steve’s wine choice, again?”

Eddie answers immediately, likely believing the speaker was turned off since it was your voice last- “What, ditchwater? Honey, we’re actively dating a guy who got half his tastebuds singed off in the underworld- wouldn’t trust his recommendations further than I can throw. And you know I’ve got the arm of a Little Leaguer.”

Steve’s mouth drops open again but this time it’s in righteous indignation and shock, a hank of soft hair falling over his brow when he leans in on his elbows to hiss- “Says the guy who drank half a bottle of melon liqueur and passed out in my bushes Sophomore year.”

Eddie chortles, delighted at having been caught- “Whatcha gonna do, Stevie? Spank me about it?”

Speakerphone was probably not a great call but you can’t find yourself caring too much, instead soaking in the bickering of your two most beloveds over a glass of wine that tastes of nothing but its color.

[kaunis-sielu]

Small Town, Big City

You can hear the engine before you can see it, but just by sound you know that it’s a motorcycle. Great. The last thing you need is some biker dude rolling by, seeing you and your piece of shit car and coming back to hit on you. You keep your focus on your car, you’ve already burned yourself once you don’t need to twice, as the bike roars by.

“Please keep going. Please keep going. Please keep going.” You mutter under your breath but luck has abandoned you as the motorcycle turns around and comes back your way.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you alright?” He calls, him calling you ma’am throws you off a bit.

“I’m fine thanks.” You yell back, still not turning around.

“Ma’am. Can you please turn around? My name is Sheriff Rogers I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Sheriff? You turn then, water bottle in one hand, flashlight in the other and are somehow still surprised to see a sheriff standing in front of you.

“Oh, sorry I just assumed that you were a biker and really didn’t wanna deal with that.” He’s tugged off the helmet, his hair smooshed down from it and he gives you a small nod and a smile.

“Understandable. But you’re okay?”

“I mean, mentally yea, physically I burned my arm pretty good with some steam. Emotionally? I’m gonna be honest with you. Pretty shitty.”

“Well, I can help with the burn for sure. I’ve got a kit on my bike but the emotional stuff I don’t know. I’m a good listener at least.” He offers with a small smile, one you can’t help but return. You turn back to your car and pour some water into the radiator.

“Alright ma’am. Can I see your arm?”

“Oh, oh my god you scared me. You move quietly.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You turn and give him your arm and he lets out a low whistle.

“You said it was steam?”

“Yea I opened the radiator too soon, shot some steam out at me.”

“Ouch, it doesn’t look too bad though. I’m going to put some burn ointment on there then wrap it to keep it clean okay?”

“Sounds good.” He gets to work, his large hands much more gentle than you’d have expected them to be. You chat as he tends to your battle wound.

“So, you mentioned emotionally not good.” He says not looking at you, “Wanna talk about it?” You sigh heavily, watching as he gently applies the burn ointment.

“I’m from Chicago, had a job, a nice apartment. Family nearby. But my boyfriend, sorry, my ex-boyfriend got a job down in New Mexico.” You wince as he hits a tender spot.

“Sorry.”

“No it’s okay. Anyway, Brock asked me to move with him. We’d been together almost two years so I figured why not. He left a week before me, mailed me a key to our new place. I packed up this piece of shit and drove all the way out here. Walked in on him having sex with another guy, which honestly is fine just maybe break up with me first. Ya know?”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.” He says softly wrapping the gauze around your arm. “So are you heading home?”

“Yea, gonna stay with a friend until I find a place. Luckily, I can kind of work anywhere there are animals so a job isn’t an issue.”

“You work with animals?”

“I’m a veterinarian.”

“That’s cool. You wanna try your car again?”

“Yea.” You round the car and try to start the engine when a loud bang sounds and Steve ducks. “Are you okay?” You call over your open door.

“I’m fine. But your serpentine belt isn’t.”

“My what?”

“The belt that goes around the engine. One of my best friends owns a car shop and some of the guys and I hang out there on the weekends. We’re working on an old ‘67 mustang right now. Let me give them a call and we’ll get you a tow.”

“Oh god. This is the last thing I need.” You groan dropping your forehead onto the top of the steering wheel. You can hear Sheriff Rogers talking to someone through his walkie and you check again for a signal on your phone. You’re disappointed but not surprised when there’s still no service. You grab your purse off of the seat of the car then throw your keys into it.

“So they’ll be here soon. Can I see your ID really quick? I should run it through the system, make sure you’re not wanted or anything.”

“Oh, right.” You pull your wallet out and pass him your ID. He calls it in and when you come back clear he gives it back.

“Sorry about that.”

“No reason to be, you’re just doing your job.” He nods then glances over his shoulder, you follow his gaze and see a dark spot on the horizon.

“That your friend?”

“Probably. She drives too fast, especially when she knows where we all are.” He says shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

Sure enough that dark spot on the horizon becomes a bright red tow truck.

“Hey Steve.” A small, slender woman calls as she drops out of the truck. “You said something about the serpentine belt?”

“Yea, when it was started it snapped.”

“When was the last time this bad boy got serviced?” The woman asks looking over at you.

“Uh, my brother usually just does it so, by a professional, maybe 4 years?”

“Oh dear god.” She mutters before laying down on the ground and attaching the large metal hook to the front of your car. She moves quickly and before you know it your car is hooked up and ready to go.

“Come on, you can ride with me.” She says with a grin at you, “Don’t worry Steve I’ll go the speed limit.”

“Just cuz you’re married to a deputy doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.” He huffs in a poor attempt to look irritated.

“Okay.”

“Natasha.” He warns his voice low, “don’t make me call Clint.”

“You know he’ll just fold.” She says with a laugh and he rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue.

“At least let me give you an escort.” Sheriff Rogers says making his way back to his motorcycle.

“Score.” Natasha says with a laugh, “that’s what I was hoping he’d do.” She tells you with a wink causing you to laugh.

Tag list:

@foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @wonderlandfandomkingdom @patzammit @abschaffer2 @capsiclesdoll @killcomet @sass-masterkittenmama

[winniethewife]

Winnie! I come to you humbly requesting a fic.

So imagine: Reader gets sent into the woods as sacrifice for the local cryptid. Cue Cryptid!Vessel looking at the terrified reader like 'fuck did they send in another virgin as sacrifice? urgh'

He tries to calm reader down and explain that whatever the townsfolk said is not accurate. 'I'm sure you're lovely but I don't really need a sacrifice. So let me tell you how this is gonna work'

Meanwhile idk reader is getting kinda into the idea of being sacrificed to Vessel because you know 👀

Ignite our dreams of starry skies

(Creature!Vessel x Gn!Reader)

A/N: Thank you Fran for the ask that inspired this endeavor and for Beta reading this whole creature feature (Featuring the creature)! This has been a labor of love and I hope you all enjoy it!!

As Always if you want to hear me shout into the void about this band (And others) Please follow me over at @lyricallymelodic  

CW: Vessel is so sad, Wet cat/creature Vessel, Slight monster body horror, Angst

Disclaimer: All fan fic written by me for this fandom is based on a fictional depiction of the personas of the band members, no real people were perceived in the making of this fiction.  

Ao3 link

Part 1: Summer: True beauty lies on the blue horizon

Next Chapter

Words:1607

They stood at the edge of the forest, dressed in the simple garb of the Sacrifice, a tradition going back hundreds of years in their village. In front of them was the forest, to the side the sea. No one was sure where the creature had come from. Some said that he had always dwelled in the forest, others said he had originally been an angel who betrayed his god and been cast down upon the earth cursed to remain in the forest forever. They had always guessed it was something in between, or something entirely different, but they hadn’t given it much thought. Now they stood in the clearing next to the cliffs and the sand dunes where they had once played as a child, never getting too close to the forest as their parents had warned.

But none of that mattered now. They were chosen as the Sacrifice by the Oracle to appease the creature of the forest. They took a deep breath, glancing one last time at the village behind them, the place they had grown up in, the place they had called home, where they will likely never return. Blinking away the tears in their eyes they began down the path into the forest. As the forest grew denser and the path less easy to navigate they knew they were likely reaching the meeting point. The late summer breeze blew by them, bringing the scents of the sea into the forest. Their gaze never left the way in front of them even as they felt the gaze of something entirely inhuman on them. They didn’t want to seem afraid, even though their heart was racing and tears flowed freely from their eyes. A twig snapped behind them and they froze as they heard a deep voice mutter something in a language unknown to them. The creature. It had to be. But why was the voice so…human?

“Are you lost? Or were you sent?” The voice asked, surprisingly softly, and even more shockingly in the native language of the village folk.

“I-I was sent.” They stuttered, still afraid to turn and look. The voice said something softly in that same odd language.

“I’m…Sorry, I don’t know why He keeps doing this.” The voice was remorseful, the tone of his words a mix of annoyance and sadness. The creature hesitated, almost like it was waiting for them to make the next move, which was unlike the tales that were told in the village, the stories of the manipulative and seductive creature of darkness that would leap at the opportunity for a sacrifice. The chance to dine on the flesh of a human was said to drive it wild. However that seemed far from the case.

“Who is doing what?” They asked carefully, taking a step to the side, considering their options: Turn and face the creature or run for their life. They wanted to know more before they decided what to do.

“Sleep, an ancient deity who I serve. He is the one who sends your Oracle visions.” The voice explained, slightly closer now. They felt an irresistible urge to look at the creature now, unsure if it was a feeling from within themselves or the silent call of the forest creature itself. They took a breath and looked upon the creature; their eyes widened in awe.

It was tall. He was tall? Six glowing eyes stared back at them, bright red irises in the center set of dark sclera, reminding them of drops of blood on the slate floor of their family home. The two vestigial eyes lacked a true iris but glowed eerily, like a lantern light shining through a curtain. His skin, as dark as the night, was covered in scars and dark red markings. Their eyes were particularly drawn to the scarring on his neck; each side had a set of three ridges, like that of the gills of an aquatic creature. He wore a hooded cloak and some trousers. Both seemed to be handmade, tattered and old. He tilted his head to the side as they examined him closely, trying to analyze their expression.

“You seem less afraid, now that you see me. That’s… atypical. ” The creature took a step closer, exposing more of himself to them: What they had thought to be branches of the tree above him were actually very large and beautiful antlers. A sun beam shone down on him, illuminating his face, and bringing into focus his features; intricate red markings over his cheeks and down his jaw. They recognized the bind rune drawn over his forehead and eyes. It was the same rune they had seen many times throughout their life, the symbol the Oracle used to reference the creature, whenever they made a sacrifice and completed a ritual in the name of the gods. They felt like they should be afraid, but the fear wasn’t there, they only felt a magnetic pull and a desire to understand.

“Were the others afraid?” they asked softly. The creature nodded.

“Terrified, they became increasingly so the longer they were in my presence.” He spoke softly, his voice was melodic and his accent unlike anything they had heard. They wanted to hear more.

“I see. Do you have a name?” They asked the first question that came to mind, something they wanted to know but felt ill-timed. Was there an order to the last conversation you ever expected to have?

“You… you want to know my name?” He looked surprised, had he ever been asked for his name? He couldn’t remember a time this had happened.

“My life is in your hands, it feels only right to know your name.” They spoke softly, but their words stung his ears. Despite their lack of fear they still assumed that he was going to hurt them. 

“I…my name is Vessel. Or at least that is what I have been called for a long time.” He hesitated. “Your life isn’t in danger, at least not by my hand. As I said before, I don’t understand why Sleep keeps telling your seer that I require a sacrifice of this or any nature. I have not desired such a thing.” He sounded annoyed, but his eyes were filled with immeasurable sorrow, his gaze leaving them for the first time since they had turned to look at him.

“Oh…what happened to the others then? They never returned to the village.” They asked with hesitant curiosity.

“The forest is treacherous and confusing to those who don’t know its secrets. I have never hurt anyone who entered the forest, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t die here.” His voice was tinged with regret. “I wanted to help them, maybe guide them home, but… it’s been a long time since any human has taken the time to speak with me.”

“How long is a long time?” they asked, unconsciously moving closer to him.

“Half a century at least.” Vessel guessed. It could have been longer; time wasn’t exactly something he thought about a lot. It felt irrelevant when you’ve been cursed to spend eternity unable to sleep, unable to die, unable to keep those who mean most to you. Vessel tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. It didn’t do any good to dwell on the past, or those he had left behind. “Do you wish for me to help you return to your home?”

“Wouldn’t that mean you’d be alone again?” They asked, showing an amount of concern that Vessel was not used to. Did they want to stay? Why would they want to stay?

“Yes, but I’m used to being alone.” He replied. He watched their face in fascination, the way they showed their emotions so plainly on their face. He wondered if his face still showed emotion, or had the mask he donned so long ago solidified his expression for life. They looked sad and concerned by what he said.

“But do you like being alone?’ They asked, tilting their head to the side slightly as they observed him, examining his face in the light, subtly moving closer to him, drawn to his presence in an unexplainable way. They wanted to stay closer, like an instinctual need to be near him. Vessel felt a familiar sense of dread in his chest. He couldn’t get attached again, he couldn’t deal with the loss again.

“You shouldn’t stay. It’s too dangerous.” He muttered looking away from them and focusing on something in the distance. He was sure that's all it would take to make them turn back. He had made it this long without a constant companion, surely he does not need someone now. He had long decided that he was meant to spend this lifetime alone. He focused on the treeline for a moment longer, giving them ample time to leave as they inevitably would. When he looked back he was genuinely surprised to see they had remained exactly where they had been before. They hadn’t run away, they hadn’t given up.

“You didn’t answer my question.” They stated simply. Vessel wondered if they meant the question that they had spoken out loud or the question they were really asking: Can I stay with you?  He sighed and mulled over the possibilities for a moment.

“A year…for one year you can stay. When next summer comes to an end I will show you how to return to your village and we will make a choice then.” He spoke in a low tone. He usually wasn’t one for making deals of any kind but he had to admit: He didn’t really like being alone.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: @silvernight-m @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @stellasplendens @ierofrnkk

[bluiela]

Hey, hi, hello uhm, I'm a bit new to the ACOTAR fandom and have been lurking around for the past two months looking through tags -- Elucien shipper for the most part -- and I see you keep getting troll anons from people who dislike you for just shipping something and I'm super sorry that's happening! 😭 I don't entirely understand this 'ship war' cause it's been a hot minute since I was around tumblr fandoms (like 2016), but I don't remember them being this openly toxic/hostile about a different opion.

Anyways! Thought I'd pop in with a nice anon about why I think Elucien works/could be endgame -- from the view of a casual reader!

At the start of most romance novels, the two who get together don't like each other, and the book is about them either figuring out they DO like each other, or getting over their disdain and discovering love instead; and over the course of ACOTAR, it really reads like SJM has been sprinkling that around, setting up Lucien and Elain to not act like themselves around the other or appear perfectly ammicable. It doesn't matter if they get together or don't together, either way this awkwardness is going to be resolved, else it wouldn't have been introduced.

Elain and Lucien are the perfect dichotomy of compatible opposites from an aesthetic view. The fawn and the fox -- which if you've ever been around are both timid but highly playful creatures. The gardener who (presumably) wants to fight, and the warrior who wants to never fight again. The lady with secret snark, and the lord who snarks to mask . But when you look at their similar vibes: the blatant cottagecore, the love for socializing/parties, the dancing, the vapid quips (that Elain, subtextually, seems to want to partake in), the love of flowers, of nature, of sun? It all falls together so perfectly.

Lucien going on a voyage adventure with Elain's father and then we NEVER hear much about it? Yeah, SJM's gonna talk about it. I can just sense that coming. Lucien went and bonded with a father figure to his mate, the father figure then died, and Elain's closure is never talked of in full. There is much, much much much, for SJM to write about there between this ship.

At the moment, neither of them want to accept they are mated. THIS is a point that has always intrigued me but I never see many other Eluciens talk about it. Lucien in book one made fun of humans and spoke cruelly of them. Elain in book one was terrified of fairies and presumably held the same opinion of Graysen. Lucien in book two reveals Jesminda and how he very much so is still not over her and is up in turmoil over the mating bond because of this. Elain in book two is very much so not over Graysen and loathes the bond even more for what it's done to her old life. Then for Elain to be horrifically thrown into being a fairy, and for Lucien to be horrifically stripped from his second home, thrown into a war, and venturing to the human lands to work with humans -- combined with them both having a mate they didn't ask for allthewhile being lovers (as in the type of person) at heart -- talk about poetic whiplash.

DISCLAIMER TO THE ABOVE POINT (for any elriels reading this): I am not saying I enjoy their pain or want them to suffer more, or be around someone they hate -- but this is a fictional book, and as someone with a degree in Creeative Writing I am of the opinion that SJM is significantly utilizing the tropes at her disposal to set up a very slow burn/painful connection/healing story filled with growth and acceptance, not just for them to accept being mates, but for them to accept this new world they now occupy and learn to love it, together. Is it possible Elain could do that with Az? I am certain SJM would be perfectly able to write a story doing so, but I personally don't see it happening as much as I see her with Lucien.

And as a last point: the sun thing has always, always, been the gold touch of this ship for me: Lucien being the heir to the Day Court and Elain "needing sunshine" and being a gardener in a land favouring night. This is not to say -- as people will berate Eluciens on -- that the Night Court is awful for Elain and that Eluciens want her to leave it all and never look back or be stripped away from her family or something horrid. People can live away from home and still, ykno, visit home. And the Day Court is right next door! Though I have this horrid inkling that Helion's gonna d*e for Lucien to "discover the bit" (if he hasn't already).

Their ship is balanced in ways I could only ever dream of writing, and its a unique balance. Often nowadays I see Persephone/Hades aethetic rewrites more than anything else, and I'm not saying those are bad (I love them too!), but they, perhaps, oversaturate the world of literature -- and I think Elucien is the Eros/Psyche that people often forget about.

Thank you so much for sending this, reading sensible posts that align with the books and does such a good job at elucien analysis was so good and refreshing after all the e/riel arguments in my inbox.

All the points are such beautifully written. It just reminds me how much I love lucien.

[eclipixels]

Signature Dish

Kakashi Hatake x Reader

Content: History seems to repeat itself…

[1,086 words]

      You had no missions for the next two weeks, thank lord fourth for that. With nothing major on your plate, you spent the day running simple errands. After returning from the grocery store, an idea struck you—why not surprise the kids with a homemade lunch?

      Well, not your kids, obviously. But you treated them like they were. Especially Sasuke. Out of all the adults in Sasuke’s life, he just seemed to click with you. And also because he needed all the emotional support he could get. The last thing you wanted was for him to end up like Orochimaru, Nagato, or Madara. The Uchiha clan really had a history of issues… yikes.

      You couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering the time Naruto broke into your house, with Sasuke and Sakura trailing behind, desperately trying to stop him. Of course, he didn’t listen. He somehow found this dish you had been perfecting, and before you knew it, all three of them were on the kitchen floor, faces stuffed. The noises they made were so chaotic that you and Kakashi had genuinely thought a tailed beast had invaded.

      For lunch today, you decided to make that same dish. You packed everything neatly into a golden woven basket, along with some cups, a teapot, and green tea leaves.

      As you left the house and made your way toward the training field, you recalled Kakashi mentioning that today’s session was in the forest nearby. Great. More walking. Why did your husband have to drag these kids out to the middle of nowhere for training?

      Once inside the forest, you spotted their distinct hair colors from afar. As you got closer, you could see they were still training. Kakashi noticed you first, offering a subtle smile before calling for a break.

      “Finally! I thought we were never gonna stop," Naruto groaned, plopping onto a rock under the shade.

      ”Sensei!" Sakura was the first to call out as soon as she spotted you.

      "Huh? Y/n Sensei? What’re you doing here?" Naruto ran toward you while Sakura threw herself into a tight hug.

      "I made you guys lunch! It’s Y/n’s special. You know, the one you broke into our house for," you teased, placing the basket on a nearby log.

      "Yes! I love the food you make, it’s always the best!" Naruto cheered.

      "Way better than anything from a restaurant!" Sakura added, practically glowing with excitement.

      "Tch." Sasuke, as expected, sat a little farther away from the group, arms crossed.

      Leaning in close, you whispered to Kakashi, "Hey, why don’t you set up the food? I’ll be right back."

      You made your way over to Sasuke, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I made lunch for everyone. Come eat with us?"

      "I’m gonna keep practicing. You guys go ahead. I’m not even that hungry," he muttered.

      "Really? I made my signature dish. I thought that was your favorite," you said, frowning slightly.

      "Whatever. I don’t even like it that much—" His words were cut off by the loud growl of his stomach.

      You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

      Sasuke scowled but said nothing as you grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the others.

      Lunch was lively. Naruto and Sakura showered you with praise, while Kakashi casually enjoyed his food, lost in thought. You noticed the team had gotten stronger, and you couldn’t wait to see them take on higher-ranked missions.

      "Oh, by the way," Kakashi chimed in between bites, "your advice about Naruto and Sasuke combining their jutsus actually worked."

      "Wait, seriously? What did you guys create?" You perked up, feeling a rush of pride.

      "Rasengan Chidori!" Naruto blurted out, his mouth still full.

      "It’s Chidori Rasengan, you idiot," Sasuke huffed.

      "I think Rasengan Chidori rolls off the tongue better, don’t ya think?" Naruto argued.

      You laughed. "Are you two really fighting over whose jutsu name comes first? Why not come up with a completely new one together?"

      "The lightning thunderball of doom…gan!" Naruto exclaimed, thrusting his fist into the air, looking way too proud of himself.

      Everyone just stared.

      "What? Whatever, we’ll figure it out later," Sasuke grumbled, sipping his tea.

      “It’s a work in progress.” Naruto shrugged.

      Kakashi, meanwhile, remained deep in thought, his gaze distant. You wondered what was on his mind.

      That evening, far from the training grounds, Minato and Kushina sat together after a long day.

      "Why hasn’t Naruto come home yet?" Kushina asked, settling beside her husband.

      "Oh, there he is." Minato nodded toward the door as Naruto walked in. Speak of the devil.

      "Hey, what took you so long?" Kushina asked.

      "Sorry! Y/N-sensei brought us lunch and then stuck around to watch us train. We got carried away," Naruto explained, rubbing the back of his head.

      Minato’s nose twitched. "You smell like… wait. Did you eat Y/n’s signature dish?"

      Naruto blinked. "Yeah? How’d you know?"

      Kushina chuckled. "Everyone knows about it, it’s delicious."

      Minato shook his head with a small laugh. "I remember when you used to bring lunch for my team, Kushina. You always brought ‘Kushina’s Special.’"

      "Well, well, history repeats itself. But I think Y/N’s might be my new competition," Kushina teased.

      —

      Later that night, as the cool summer breeze drifted through the open windows, Kakashi lay on your lap, his head resting against your thigh while the glow of the TV flickered across the room.

      "Y’know," he murmured, "you bringing lunch today felt really nostalgic."

      You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his silver hair. "Really? How so?"

      "Kushina used to do the same for us—me, Obito, and Rin. Watching you with Sasuke today reminded me a lot of how she was with Obito. Almost exactly the same."

      Your eyes widened. "Wait. There was a Kushina’s Special?!" You gasped, suddenly panicking. "Oh my God, what’s wrong with me?! I have to change the name of my recipe! No—no, I have to erase it from existence! Ah—"

      Kakashi grabbed your face, cutting off your meltdown. "Calm down, Y/N. You’re going to wake the entire village."

      "B-but—"

      "She wouldn’t even care that much," he assured you, rolling his eyes.

      You squinted. "You sure?"

      "Positive."

      Letting out a deep sigh, you finally relaxed. "Phew! Almost lost my mind there." You laughed.

      Kakashi just stared at you.

      "Why are you looking at me like that?" you deadpanned before casually shoving him off the couch.

      "H-hey!" He tried to grab onto something—anything—but ultimately failed, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

      He really just tried to grab air. You couldn’t stop laughing.

[prettybutisnt]

hello!! please write a lyrason story! maybe grayson falls sick and lyra takes care of him!

YAY!!! I enjoy writing way too much…. But I do love me a good sick fic.

Grayson hated being sick. He wasn’t the kind of guy who slowed down for anything, let alone something as annoying as a fever. But today, his body had other plans.

Wrapped in a blanket on his couch, he stared at the ceiling, feeling like he’d been hit by a truck. His head was pounding, his throat was on fire, and every muscle in his body ached. He tried to sit up, but the dizziness hit him like a wave, forcing him back down with a groan.

That was when the door to his apartment swung open.

“Grayson?” Lyra’s voice rang through the quiet room. She stepped inside, holding a plastic bag full of what looked like medicine and—was that soup?

“What are you doing here?” he croaked.

Lyra shut the door with her hip and shot him a look. “You didn’t answer my texts. Then Jameson said you looked half-dead at work yesterday. So, I figured you needed some actual human care.”

Grayson groaned and buried his face in his pillow. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No, you need someone to stop you from literally dying of stubbornness,” Lyra quipped, setting the bag down on his coffee table. She crouched beside him, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. Her touch was cool against his burning skin. “Grayson, you’re burning up.”

“It’s just a little fever,” he mumbled, though he didn’t even believe himself.

Lyra rolled her eyes but softened when she saw how miserable he looked. “Well, lucky for you, I come bearing medicine, soup, and absolutely no patience for your nonsense.”

Grayson sighed, knowing there was no use arguing. Lyra had that determined look—the one that meant she wasn’t going anywhere.

She made him sit up just enough to take some cold medicine, then shoved a spoonful of warm broth into his mouth before he could protest. It was embarrassing, really. He was a grown man, but here he was, being spoon-fed like a child.

But it was Lyra. And somehow, that made it okay.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, voice hoarse.

Lyra grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

She pulled the blanket up around him, tucking him in like he was some kind of fragile thing. He should’ve felt ridiculous, but the warmth of the soup, the medicine settling in his system, and the quiet presence of Lyra beside him made it… kind of nice.

Maybe being taken care of wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

He blinked drowsily, exhaustion tugging at him. “You’re not gonna sit there and watch me sleep, are you?”

Lyra leaned back against the couch with a smirk. “Nah, I’ll just make sure you don’t stop breathing or something.”

Grayson chuckled weakly, already halfway asleep. “Lucky me.”

As he drifted off, he felt Lyra’s fingers gently brush against his forehead, smoothing his hair back. The last thing he heard before sleep claimed him was her voice, softer now.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Lucky you.”

[professorspork]

Not sure if you've already done this but could you either rank or tier list the Glindas and Elphabas you've seen?

lmao you know, very true to form for me how even with 59 different boots and 6 live performances under my belt i'm still like "NO I CAN'T POSSIBLY CHOOSE, I NEED MORE DATA"

like. girl. you know your own taste, be real, how much more do you really need???

but constitutionally something about me still resists lists and tiers, so instead i'm gonna do CATEGORIES.

so welcome to:

THE OZCARS

every category will have explanations, five nominees, and one winner. nominees will be listed in chronological watch order, and specific boot dates will be noted when appropriate. fair? FAIR, I THINK.

also lmao there's no way i have the self-control to limit myself to just gelphie, and please note the obvious caveat that this is a time capsule of opinions that are as ever subject to change, and this may be revisited after more things are seen

i have no idea how long this is gonna get, so maybe let's put this under a cut, huh.

BEST FIRST IMPRESSION (Elphie Edition)

(i.e.: the actresses who really impressed and made a mark on me right from the jump)

NOMINEES:

Shoshana Bean [Bway 1/9/05]: Smol Bean Too Good For This World, Too Pure

Nicole Parker [Bway 3/8/09]: Oh That's Why They Say Comedians Make The Best Dramatic Actors

Mamie Parris [1NT 11/30/11]: Green Bean Thinks Of Nothing But Murder All Day

Emmy Raver-Lampman [1NT 5/31/14]: Shockingly Steady Standby Holds Night Of Pure Chaos At Bay Like It's Easy

Mary Kate Morrissey [2NT 8/4/18]: Wow People Weren't Fuckin Kidding About Double Name Witches Being Gay On Purpose Holy Shit

WINNER: MAMIE PARRIS

I'm still two installments away from talking about this particular bootleg in the Punctum Project, but my WORD what a tour de force Mamie is. she stalks onto stage in act 1 frothing at the mouth and full of charisma and bile, and you just can't take your eyes off her. fucking amazing stuff.

BEST LAST(ING) IMPRESSION (Elphie Edition)

(i.e. the actresses whose performances have really clung to my bones and have longevity and mental staying power)

Shoshana Bean, giving YOU THINK YOU DON'T LIKE NICE ELPHIE? TOO BAD MINE WILL HAUNT YOU

Eden Espinosa, giving YOU NEVER FORGET YOUR FIRST

Carmen Cusack, giving WHY THE FUCK DID THEY NEVER LET YOU DO BROADWAY WHEN YOU'RE THE BEST AT THIS

Mamie Parris, giving NO SERIOUSLY DID I MENTION THE RAGE

Laurel Harris, giving WATCH ME GROW WATCH ME CHANGE WATCH ME MATURE WATCH ME BE SO BISEXUAL

WINNER: EDEN ESPINOSA

Reader you have no idea how hard this was for me to pick, because I do think this comes closest to "favorite" or "best" and i ALWAYS WANT TO GIVE CAVEATS. like especially I need to shout out Sho for making both lists and just like... doing the impossible work of opening the door to a post-Idina Elphaba and what that might mean and doing it with such fearless brightness. and also shout out to Carmen who I do think is maybe the most "complete" Elphaba for me, who comes closest to like, the version of Elphaba who lives in my head and whose voice I would use as my litmus test when writing fanfiction

but Eden was my first Elphie when I was a girl of but 14, and there's no getting around the fact that so many things I love in other Elphabas are, fundamentally, Little Eden Things. the combo of humor and pathos and riffs is just. in my DNA.

BEST FIRST IMPRESSION (Glinda Edition)

(These ones ARE in watch order despite not seeming like it you'll just have to believe me)

Kara Lindsay [LIVE on Bway 10/24/15, no boot exists to my eternal sadness]: My Glinda Girlie Awakening

Katie Rose Clarke [Bway 5/12/2013]: Reactivated Me Like A Sleeper Agent

Kendra Kassebaum [1NT 3/14/06]: Listen to the Sound... of Violence

Brittney Johnson [Bway 9/XX/19]: I'll Never Do It As Gay Again But My God Was This So Gay

McKenzie Kurtz [Bway 5/30/23]: Playing The Classics And Don't They Sound Great

WINNER: KARA LINDSAY

much like with Eden above this isn't really one I can like, make an argument against with any real strength or integrity. falling for Kara's glinda got me hooked on wicked for YEARS last time, and getting to her era of boots was a big motivator for how i approached the great rewatch. ultimately i fear they may not translate to those who never saw her live and can only go by recordings-- her early boots are marred by matt shingledecker giving her NOTHING and in her later boots she was lowkey carrying jenny dinoia, so you kind of have to squint i think to See It the way i know it in my bones, but. when she was good she was perfect. and so much of what i love about McKenzie was that she was Giving Kara.

BEST LAST(ING) IMPRESSION (Glinda Edition)

Megan Hilty, giving I MADE GLINDA SWEET THAT WAS ME I DID THAT

Kendra Kassebaum, giving I MADE GLINDA WEIRD THAT WAS ME I DID THAT

Annaleigh Ashford, giving I MADE GLINDA GAY THAT WAS ME I DID THAT

Katie Rose Clarke, giving I MADE GLINDA AUTISTIC THAT WAS ME I DID THAT

Kara Lindsay, giving I MADE YOU OBSESSED WITH GLINDA THAT WAS ME I DID THAT

WINNER: KATIE ROSE CLARKE

I mean. a) she's the longest Glinda so she kind of had a leg up here but b) lbr she was the longest Glinda for a goddamn reason. SO MUCH of what is now codified by fiat as things glinda Must Do are things krc just like. made up on tour and lbr got in trouble for at the time! her impact isn't just on how i understand Glinda but how EVERYONE understands glinda and like, i don't think anyone else really has a shot at that crown here other than maybe Cheno herself (who, yes, wasn't nominated and I realize that but having the staying power of being on the cast album is a whole other thing)

BEST AT GIVING GELPHIE

(Self-explanatory, but PAIRS ONLY everyone's gotta pull their weight or there would be too many caveats, even though LMAO that does skew this somewhat)

Stephanie J Block & Annaleigh Ashford: We Are The Gay Agenda and The Gay Agenda Is Hands

Carmen Cusack & Katie Rose Clarke: This Bitch Is Everything To Me (Even When She Drives Me Nuts)

Donna Vivino & Katie Rose Clarke: This Bitch Is Everything To Me (And We Have To Cry About It)

Mary Kate Morrissey & Ginna Claire Mason: Gay Agenda II Electric Boogaloo, We Have Clearly Spent Hours In Our Shared AirBNB Optimizing Every Moment Of This Show

Laurel Harris & Katie Rose Clarke: This Bitch Is Everything To Me (And For A Moment You Can Dream We Might Make It Work)

Honorable Mention: YES I KNOW I'M CHEATING but if I'd seen more boots of Alyssa Fox and McKenzie Kurtz they had a chance of knocking out one of the Katies I think and it's worth saying so

that said

WINNER: Mary Kate Morrissey & Ginna Claire Mason

This one was AGONIZING to narrow down and yes pitting Katie against herself three times does skew the results somewhat. but like. i think that if I met someone who was like "I've never seen Wicked but people tell me it's gay, what's the gayest version?" my instinct would be to point them at Double Name Witches before anyone else. I do love that (with the slight aberration of Laurel coming AFTER double name witches) this is two bookends of actresses very clearly going in with a game plan and executing, and then the insides of the sandwich is krc just like going into a dykadelic fugue state for several hours for years at a time and occasionally lucking into people who could keep up with her

BEST AT GIVING THROPPLE

(Yes this is a whole other thing than Gelphie, NO THE VENN DIAGRAMS ARE NOT IDENTICAL YES THERE IS CONSIDERABLE OVERLAP)

Carmen Cusack & Katie Rose Clarke & Cliffton Hall: True Love In Three Directions Has No Chance Of Running Smooth

Donna Vivino & Katie Rose Clarke & Richard H Blake: Crying Breakfast Friends Wish To Be Gentle And Fail

Mamie Parris & Katie Rose Clarke & Kyle Dean Massey: Young And Dumb and Full of Cum

Rachel Tucker & Carrie St Louis & Jonah Platt: Two Stressed Cheetahs And Their Zoo-Assigned Therapy Golden Retriever

Laurel Harris & Katie Rose Clarke & Ryan McCartan: Teenage Dirtbags Can't Do Feelings But Can't Stop Having Them

WINNER: LAUREL & KRC & RYAN

Blame my wife for this one y'all she converted me; the more I think about this trio the more I feel like they really do just have a balance to them that's very appealing -- getting both the sharp corners and the soft underbellies

FIYERO MOST WORTHY OF HAVING A CATFIGHT OVER

David Burnham, giving ACTUAL POPULAR GUY CHARISMA

Kyle Dean Massey, giving MOVE THEM HIPS

Michael Campayno, giving GENTLEST BOY

Ryan McCarten, giving DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME MEOW MEOW

Xavier McKinnon, giving IT WILL NEVER OCCUR TO YOU TO CALL ME MEOW MEOW *slutty wink*

WINNER: XAVIER MCKINNON

It took 20 years to find the man who was MADE IN A LAB TO BE THE PERFECT FIYERO but we did it boys, we found him. do you have any idea how hard it is to make his goofy-ass lines actually sound suave and THIS BOY MAKES IT LOOK EASY. he PULLS OFF THE GAZELLE LEAP. WHAT CAN'T HE DO. (well the answer is give thropple he's a fiyeraba truther but he's only been on tour less than a year give him time)

MORRIBLE BEST AT BOTH THE ACTING PART AND THE SINGING PART WITHOUT MAKING YOU CHOOSE

Carole Shelley: the OG

Alma Cuervo: Always Serving (all entendres intended)

Myra Lucretia Taylor: That's My Mom

Sheryl Lee Ralph: That's My Queen

Aymee Garcia: Those PIPES

WINNER: SHERYL LEE RALPH

Sheryl should have gotten a goddamn Tony for her turn as Morrible, she stole the fucking show, she was perfect in every possible way, the MENACE the HUMOR the VOICE my god.

WIZARD WHO MOST MAKES YOU GET WHY HE'S THE WIZARD:

Sean McCourt: I'm An Understudy Making A Meal of It (Pt I)

Lenny Wolpe: That's My Dad

Gene Weygandt: Peak Used Car Salesman Energy

Wayne Schroder: I'm An Understudy Making A Meal of It (Pt 2)

Michael McCormick: He Just Loves Drama

WINNER: LENNY WOLPE

Michael gives Lenny a real run for his money, but I have to go with my heart. Lenny talks like the penguin in Toy Story with the broken squeaker and 97% of the time he's the most nonthreatening sweetiepie ever and then he'll suddenly Get Serious and it's like OH DAMN OK.

BOQ BEST AT BEING NOT JUST TOLERABLE BUT TRULY LOVABLE

Telly Leung: bright spot in dark times

Alex Brightman: SO BABY

F. Michael Haynie: flustered and sweet

Jesse JP Johnson: didn't mean any harm

Michael Wartella: genuinely kind

WINNER: MICHAEL WARTELLA

I PROMISE THIS ISN'T JUST RECENCY BIAS Michael I think truly is best at navigating the swings Boq has to take without ever coming off as creepy or over-the-top. He's so GENTLE, even with Nessa, even at the end, and I'm very pumped to see more of his early work in my second go-around of boots

NESSA MOST EQUALLY GOOD AT BOTH ACTS OF THE SHOW

Deedee Magno Hall: unafraid of conflict in act 1 without being cunty about it

Stefanie Brown: makes the high highs and low lows tonally of a piece

Catherine Charlebois: years of excellence

Gizel Jimenez: Care Bear Stare

Kimber Elayne Sprawl: hell yeah i'll growl

WINNER: DEEDEE MAGNO HALL

And no, she's not winning just because my wife and I can't stop giggling any time she says any line and we mentally fill in it starting or ending with "sTEVEN--"

Deedee just has such a memorable presence, and never phoned in a single second; the line deliveries in act 1 for nessa can be so rote or surfacy and NOT FOR THIS LADY NOPE.

MOST PAINFUL FLUB

Bway 1/9/05: Joey McIntyre cannot find his note for like a full verse and a half of ALAYM and there's nothing Sho Bean can do to help him

1NT 2/26/09: Paul Slade Smith as Dillamond tells Elphaba to "go enjoy your students," leaving poor standby Merideth Kaye Clark (WHO HAS THE FIRE ALARM GO OFF ON HER LATER DURING NGD) to have to quickly improvise "That's okay, the other students aren't my friends."

Bway 6/30/2017: Kara Lindsay gets so lost in Jenny DiNoia's eyes that she ALSO sings "two good good friends" at the end of One Short Day

Bway 3/XX/20: Lindsay Heather Pierce flubs Elphie's entrance by saying "No I'm not green, yes I've always been green" instead of "seasick."

Bway 3/XX/24: Donna McKechnie says "Miss Elphaba!" instead of "Miss Upland!" as she enters the Ozdust Ballroom

WINNER(?): JOEY MCINTYRE

I'm so sorry Joey but this was your personal last show and it will live in infamy and there's nothing anyone can do about it

KOOKIEST GLINDA

(i.e. who is most in danger of being accused of having "a lot of personality")

Kendra Kassebaum, giving FISTICUFF REALNESS

Katie Rose Clarke, giving I AM AN AUTISTIC BABY DEER FROM OUTER SPACE

Alli Mauzey, giving THE ONLY THING I LOVE MORE THAN ME IS ATTENTION

Amanda Jane Cooper, giving MY FAVORITE GLINDA IS KATIE ROSE CLARKE LET'S TURN IT UP TO 11

Jennafer Newberry, giving I HAVEN'T FOUND MY GLINDA THESIS STATEMENT YET SO I'M GONNA DO THIS UNTIL I DO

WINNER: AMANDA JANE COOPER

Believe me, I am more shocked than anyone that someone was able to out-Katie Katie on this, but like. My word. Amanda Jane Cooper is A Lot, bless her, and VERY inventive. I stand by my decision to not include Annaleigh Ashford as a nominee; considering how Annaleigh plays every other role I've ever seen her in her Glinda is shockingly normal.

MOST BULLYABLE ELPHIE

(i.e. whose "The Wizard and I" and classroom scenes most have me going "oh honey good luck with all that, no wonder people keep putting Kick Me signs on your back.")

Teal Wicks, giving THEATER KID TRIES AND FAILS TO ROUGHLY APPROXIMATE DARIA

Dee Roscioli, giving MY POSTURE IS AS BAD AS MY SELF-ESTEEM

Jackie Burns, giving RACHEL BERRY OVERACHIEVER

Jessica Vosk, giving IT'S NOT MY FAULT NONE OF YOU LOSERS CAN SEE MY VISION

Natalia Vivino, giving INSUFFERABLE KNOW-IT-ALL

WINNER: DEE ROSCIOLI

Dee I think visibly has Glinda most stressed out and helpless during Popular because she cannot do it which takes the cake here

GLINDA I FIND IT EASIEST TO BELIEVE IS POPULAR WITHOUT THE SCRIPT TELLING ME SO

Kristen Chenoweth: Literally I Invented This Why Do My Predecessors Struggle When I Laid It Out

Annaleigh Ashford: Who Wouldn't Be Obsessed With Me?

Meggie Cansler: JAP Regina George And Making It Work

Gina Beck: The Fact That I Cannot Mask My Accent Is An Asset Actually Because I'm A Fascinating And Mysterious Exchange Student, Go With It

Brittney Johnson: Best Hang At Girl's Night/Throws Awesome Bachelorette Parties

WINNER: GINA BECK

I've only seen Gina once but I was fascinated by her Glinda, and how she commanded every room she was in with such ease. She's just someone you Pay Attention To, she's got this effortless magnetism that shows-doesn't-tell why it's not about aptitude it's the way you're viewed.

BEST POPULAR OOPSIE

(i.e. the improvs that weren't planned)

Bway 1/9/05: After like a FULL MINUTE of trying to get the flower to stick behind Sho's ear, Jennifer Laura Thompson gives up and puts it between Sho's tits instead

Bway 3/13/08: Annaleigh takes the flower off in the scene transition because it was falling out and stashes it in the shoe closet, then forgets which pair she hid it in when it's time for the finishing touch, has to dig through every single one, and chirps "I keep things in my shoes!" when SJB asks what she's doing

1NT 11/1/08: Katie Rose Clarke, still holding the lipstick she almost dropped as she grabs the mirror to set it on the bed, blurts out "I got so much stuff in my hands"

1NT 11/2/08 (yes literally the very next night): Katie Rose Clarke bodyslams herself so hard into her bed at "Fiyero and I are going to be married" she not only breaks a shoe and has to do the rest of Popular barefoot, but the impact sends the preset lipstick tube flying so that she has to spend the entirety of "when I see depressing creatures..." scrambling to find it in the pillows only to realize it's not there and then do a casj lean against the headboard and give Carmen a nod like she meant to do that

Bway 09/XX/19: Brittney can't get the flower to detach from her wig and finally has to let Hannah do it for her with a sad little "help!"

WINNER: 11/2/08 KRC

This one takes the cake because it's a two-parter, and because there are also like 18 different bonkers things that happen in that Popular that we do not have time to get into

IF THERE ARE OTHER CATEGORIES YOU WISH FOR MY OPINION ON, KINDLY LET ME KNOW. but this is getting quite long so I'm gonna stop it there for now

however, some people are so far and above in their respective categories, it was not worth naming four other nominees. so!

Various Senior Superlatives:

Elphie whose lack of a full video boot most kills my soul: Lindsay Mendez

Glinda whose lack of a full video boot most kills my soul: Patti Murin

Most Equal-Opportunity Bisexual Elphaba: Alyssa Fox

Most Affecting 'The Wizard and I:' Saycon Sengbloh 3/29/06

Fiyero Happiest Just To Be Invited (bc he ships Gelphie): Jon Robert Hall

Most Sizzling Sexual Chemistry Between A Wizard and Morrible: Michael McCormick and Alexandra Billings

Most Original Take on Morrible: JoAnne Worley and her ten packs a day American working-class accent

Most Frustrating Missed Opportunity for Comedy: Kyle Brown taking over for Timothy A Fitzgerald as Fiyero mid-show on 5/31/14 and NOT going for a laugh on "Fiyero, you frightened me. I thought you might have changed"/"I have changed!" LIKE COME ON MAN YOU LITERALLY HAVE CHANGED, LET IT BREATHE AND GIVE THE AUDIENCE A GIGGLE IT'S RIGHT THERE

Performance as Elphie closest to book!Elphaba: Mary Kate Morrissey 7/21/23; the most uncannily unsocialized and autistic Elphie I've ever seen and VERY unlike MK's usual portrayal. strikingly original and almost painful to watch at times. sensational.

Best sustained low note at the end of INTG: Julia Murney

Best delivery of "Yeah or maybe it scratched me or something:" Kristoffer Cusick

Best 1NT tour stop to use as a punchline: Appleton WI

Best Dillamond at actually making his lecture sound both interesting and like a legitimate classroom interaction: Harry Bouvy 9/24/17

All-Time Horniest ALAYAM: 2NT 2/XX/25 Carly Augenstein and Xavier McKinnon. No this is not recency bias, they kept kissing so long after the song ended the audience literally started to get uncomfortable. it ruled.

ANYWAY THANK YOU FOR ASKING I HOPE THIS SATISFIES