#I can watch it more comfortably on a bigger screen again

[wyvernest]

back massages

pairing: miguel o'hara x college roommate f!reader

warnings: smut, miguel is a bit cocky, unprotected piv, suggestive massages, dry jumping

summary: you give miguel the proverbial back massage, and he returns the favour

"Ugh, my back-" he groans loudly, entering the cramped dorm room and slamming the creaking door shut in frustration.

"Still?" you reply, absent-mindedly, not looking away from your laptop screen and the from project you're working on for tonight's delivery. "Didn't the trellises at the gym help?"

You hear the cot springs coil under his weight as he drops to the bed on his stomach. "Couldn't even use them."

"Hm?" You're still half focused on your research, briefly catching the last words of his replies.

"The gym was full." He groans, shuffling on the mattress.

He is increasingly frustrated with the lack of attention he's receiving from you. You two have been teasing eachother for a while; enough of a while to get him riled up late at night, and to considerably speed up your heart rate whenever he was around.

But even now, you were afraid of being more obvious than necessary. He seemed so confident and easy to talk to, but sometimes you could only wonder if that's just what he was like with everyone else.

He wasn't. He was only this open to you. This relaxed. At least he wasn't aware of how attractive and intimidating his confidence could be to you.

Your delicate fingers kept tapping on the keyboard, unrelenting. Nearly indifferent.

"Didn't you say you'd finish it this morning?" he groans, slightly muffled by the pillow he rested his head against.

"Yeah." You aren't paying attention. Truthfully, beneath the façade, you can barely understand what you're reading, your eyes mechanically darting across the text in front of you. All you can think about is how much you'd want to straddle him and make out right now. Especially with the way he's groaning from the back pain-

"- I overslept." You explain, scarce and somewhat cold. He sighs deeply, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Fuck. You don't even know if being roommates is either a blessing or a curse. How are you even supposed to study with-

"Can't you take a break? Por favor." He speaks, his voice down an octave. You can't take it anymore. You peek at him over your shoulder, pondering.

He's shirtless. Of course. He has to be doing it on purpose at this point.

Your attention drifts over the line of his back that bends just slightly for him to hold his beefy arms under his pillow. His muscles ripple as he shifts to get more comfortable into the greyish bedsheets.

"Give me a back rub." He challenges, squinting his eyes and watching your face drop the second his request is processed in your brain.

"Come on." He chuckles lowly. A few ruffled strands of hair on his face make it look like he had just woken up. You can't resist. "Help me feel better."

Raising from the desk chair and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you place your hands on his shoulder blades, pushing gently, kneading the tensed muscles there. He sighs deeply once again as he feels your small, warm palms on his broad back.

"Ugh." he groans, relaxing under your touch. "Push harder."

You comply, applying more pressure, digging the heels of your hands into his toned muscles.

Your vision washes over his body, comforted by the fact that he can't see you. His back is so much bigger than your whole body. You feel an unfathomably strong need to lay on him, to feel the heat of his skin invade yours. Or better yet, have him lay on you, feel the whole weight of him, cozy and constant.

"Oh-" He moans, raspy and low when you find another tensed up knot, "-feels so good." You're starting to soak your panties from the sounds he's making.

"You're so good at this." He halfly speaks into his pillow, evidently pleased with the special treatment. "Ah, yeah, right there- oh-"

Insisting on the spot, you start putting your upper body weight into the strokes, not having any more force in your arms. He groans again at the sudden change, only this time it comes out very much like a prolonged moan.

Soon enough your own back starts to hurt from the twisted position you're in, legs dangling on one side of the mattress and your torso turned to him. Ceasing your movements, you bring your hands to your lower back, pushing so you could straighten your spine as a faint ache begins to form.

"Get on the bed." He moves his head to gaze up at you over his shoulder. "Straddle my waist. Better for the both of us.", He advices, as if it's nothing.

Your heart rate picks up as uneasiness shoots through your veins as in a lighting strike. You've never been this close to him before. This physical, this intimate. Heart fluttering at the faint hope of reciprocated feelings and the possibility of something more, you silently accept the suggestion.

Climbing on the bed, you hop on his lower back, gradually and slowly laying your bodyweight on him.

"Is this okay?" You're finally settled, and he groans in an infinitely relieved exhale.

"More than okay." One of his hands slips away from under his pillow to tap on your thigh, nearly making you jump. "Continue, it was so good."

Trying to ignore his hand still resting two millimetres away from your leg, you resume the massage, searching for more knots over his broad back.

"That's it, that's it, oh fuck- ugh" His voice sultry and raspier, he flexes his back muscles involuntarily the second you finally reach the spot.

You have to use all that's left of your self control not to accidentally clench your cunt on his lower back. But you can't help it. Wearing a skirt wasn't the best idea today.

The way he's slightly squirming underneath you as you massage his huge shoulders, the way your clothed clit rubs against his skin with the motions have you shivering lightly.

"Yeah- oh, fuck" Your hands are behind his neck, undoing all the aches and rigidity from hours of hunching over his desk, of not taking long coveted breaks.

"I'm done, my arms are starting to hurt." You announce, partially true. You also couldn't stand his noises anymore, all the obscene groans and rough moans, fearing he might start feeling now wet you've actually gotten in the meantime.

In a surge of confidence, you lean forward, more or less intentionally letting your breasts squeeze flush against his back, and you kiss his cheek, soft and tender.

He's surprised and flustered for a flashing second, before letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Let me give you one too, cariño."

You shiver at the pet name, hearing him talk this way to you for the first time.

How could you possibly say no?

You lay on the bed where he had been, feeling the clean sheets warm and infused with his musk.

The mattress dips, springs creaking slightly as he adjusts his weight, finally straddling your upper thighs. Your breathing quickens in shock, not having expected him to take the same position as you did. You feel his weight on you, grounding you.

His broad hands start at your shoulders, questionably innocent at first. But just as you start to think that there isn't more to the way he's sat behind your ass, to the way he's touching you, his palms drift away from the usual motions of the massage he is supposed to give you.

Expert, cursory fingers pretend to knead down, to your waist, gripping hard.

You start feeling your pulse in your neck.

One of his thighs flexes on your side as he slightly adjusts, lifting himself a mere inch above you and settling back down. Only this time, you can feel his erection through his sweats, snugly sat between the globes of your ass.

Leaning forward, his grip on your waist remains strong as he slightly grinds his cock on you from behind, his hands mimicking his rhythm as if things aren't already obvious. It's still a massage, it's just not his main goal.

"Mm- Miguel-" you attempt to protest, only it comes out as a moan laced with anticipating pleasure.

A broad, warm hand slowly and unabashedly moves from your waist up to your shoulder, only for a mere second kneading the tensed muscles before drifting down. His fingers ever so slightly slip underneath you as he palms your right breast, not stopping his hips from rubbing his dick against you.

He's slow and careful, as if still hoping you hadn't noticed or aren't bothered to ask him to get off, even through your mewls and his moaned name.

“You're so..” He speaks quietly, for himself, “soft, and fragile-” He leans forward, much like you did, but instead he kisses your neck, down your spine. “I wanna-”

He leaves the voiced desire unfinished as he picks your torso up to his chest, his arms encompassing you, flipping you around.

Now with your body trapped in his embrace, thighs between his and hands squished together, he kisses your flushed cheeks with fervour.

“Tell me to stop.” A low whisper below your ear. Watching your face for any trace of doubt, you shake your head, ‘no’.

‘Don’t stop.’

Placing you back down on the mattress, he bunches your skirt up to your middle, moving your panties to the side as his other hand takes his rock hard cock out of his sweats.

You feel the precum coated head flush against your pussy lips, pushing in with a gravel groan.

As soon as he gathers the courage to advance, his length grazes your clit, your hips automatically jerking away, akin to having touched hot coal.

A shiver runs down your spine that makes your cunt flutter, his awaiting cock twitching in enthusiasm. He feels you spasm and grow wetter.

“Ugh, that- you feel so good-”

He’s only taking his time before he can bottom out inside you. With a look over your shoulder, you don’t trust your voice to respond. You nod and clench your pussy around him, aiming to viciously drive him mad.

He suddenly pushes forward, hands forcing you onto him, the contact with his own blazing flesh making your brain melt and eyes roll back into your head. You can almost feel his bulbous tip in your guts, messing with your nerves and sinews.

Quickly adapting to the new conditions your body has given him, he corrects his grip on your waist, hoisting you until your feet lose contact with the bed. Back now arched, ass well-adjusted to meet his height, upper body rested on the plush pillows. He drags out halfway before sinking back in.

His hips slowly rotate against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you

You can’t take it anymore. Your limbs feel like radio-static, heart sending its pulse into your pussy, breathing laboured and synced with his. The broad head flicks a spot deep inside you that curves your spine this time, feet no longer able to find balance away from the stimulation.

A strong forearm curls around your middle with snake-like speed. You settle obediently back into his hold.

Your hips wiggle closer into his, apologetically stuffing yourself full of him. He smirks at the gesture, satisfied.

“Fuck, Miguel-”, you moan for him, giving him exactly what he wanted before he started pounding into you.

A combination of his pelvis slamming into yours and his hands violently dragging you back onto his dick has high-pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat. Your head rings with the sound of the bed squeaking back and forth along with the harsh returns of his cock in between your come-soaked folds.

His firm hands hold you from flinching, fingers digging into your waist while his thumbs press down into your lower back.

It's when he changes his angle that you scream out, all consciousness dissolving into raw, carnal bliss. Ruptured cries and fractions of his name bloom out of your nearly-dry throat.

He feels his heavy cock pulsate as your ass jolts with each slap, your pussy choking his dick in the process.

With a suffocating groan, he releases inside you, his ecstasy drawn-out into fractured grunts blended with heavy breaths.

You sense his warm come spilling inside you. Your own climax sends your head spinning, your loud pulse dropping in your ears.

The thunder subsides through your veins like a candle being put out by the cold.

a/n: sorry for the delay i have a ton of stuff to do for college 💀

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which you and paige made a promise to each other

There’s something about summer air in Minnesota that makes everything feel bigger than it is. The stars. The spaces between conversations. The ache in your chest when you look at someone a second too long and they don’t notice. Or maybe they do, and they don’t say anything.

You’re lying on your back on a trampoline in someone's backyard. Paige Bueckers is beside you, a little too close for comfort, a little too far to do anything about it.

The night smells like fresh cut grass and burnt marshmallows. The air’s sticky with warmth, the kind that doesn’t ask for a hoodie. There’s a party still going on inside the house, faint music filtering through the screen door—Drake, probably, or SZA. But out here, it’s just you and Paige, staring up at a sky that’s trying its best to impress you.

Paige sighs dramatically, the kind of breath that says “I’m about to say something stupid” before it even happens.

“So,” she says, breaking the silence, “what if we just... suck at dating forever?”

You turn your head toward her slowly, narrowing your eyes. “Are we starting the night with existential dread already?”

She laughs. “No, I’m serious. What if we just never find someone? What if this is it?”

You raise a brow. “You mean this as in... us lying on a trampoline hiding from people drinking warm White Claws?”

“Yeah.” She’s smirking now. “Like, this is peak romance and we didn’t even know it.”

You roll your eyes. “Speak for yourself. I’m still waiting for my movie moment.”

Paige grins, eyes catching the glint of the string lights that line the fence. “Okay, fine. But what if thirty rolls around, and you’re still single, and I’m still single—what then?”

“Then we cry about it on FaceTime and watch The Notebook in separate time zones?”

“No,” she says, voice dipping lower, almost hesitant now. “Then we marry each other.”

You blink.

She keeps her eyes on the stars like she didn’t just drop a loaded sentence between you. Like this is just a casual idea.

You shift, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can see her better. “Wait. Are you saying we make a pact?”

She nods without looking at you. “Yeah. A real one. If we’re both single at thirty, we just... do it. Tie the knot. Easy.”

You scoff. “Easy?”

“Easiest decision ever,” she says, finally turning to face you. “I already know your weird habits. You already know I leave two sips of everything because I have commitment issues.”

“You do.”

“You eat the same three things for lunch and have a playlist for literally every emotion.”

You smile despite yourself. “And?”

“And I like you better than I’ve ever liked anyone I’ve dated,” she says, softer now. “Not like, like like. Just... you’re my favorite person.”

Your heart beats louder than it should.

You mask it with sarcasm. “Aw, Bueckers. Is this your way of asking me to prom?”

“Prom’s next week,” she says with a smirk. “It’s too late. But thirty’s wide open.”

You laugh, pushing her shoulder gently. She exaggerates the motion like you tackled her. You’re both giggling now, bodies still bouncing slightly with the motion of the trampoline.

Then she quiets again. Voice small. Real.

“I’m serious, though. You and me. If it doesn’t happen with anyone else… why not?”

You stare at her.

She’s seventeen and golden and brilliant and so much more sure of herself than she should be. But there’s something in the way she says it. Not flippant. Not a joke.

Hopeful.

You take a breath. Hold out your pinky.

“Alright. If we’re both single at thirty…”

She links her pinky with yours instantly.

“We get married,” she finishes.

You nod. “Deal.”

And then, because you can’t help yourself, you whisper, “You’ll probably forget.”

She looks at you like you just insulted her entire bloodline. “I won’t.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I won’t,” she insists.

“You’ll be off winning WNBA championships and crossing people over or whatever.”

She grins, cocky. “Okay, true. But I’ll still remember.”

You shrug, like you’re not secretly hoping she means it.

“Alright then. It’s a deal,” you repeat, letting your pinkies fall apart, but not the moment.

She stares at you a second longer than necessary.

Then she rolls onto her back again, hands behind her head, eyes on the stars like nothing just shifted between you.

But it did.

You feel it.

You don't realize until much later that this was the night Paige decided what forever looked like.

And it was you.

Years have a funny way of moving fast when you're not looking. One minute you're seventeen on a trampoline. The next, you're twenty-one at a graduation party with someone else's lipstick on your cheek and your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

It’s a picture from Paige — her in cap and gown, beaming, with “UConn Legend” written in white marker across her mortarboard.

Paige: Made it. No torn ACL could stop me. Just the terrifying future ahead. Also I miss your dumb face.

You grin. Your heart squeezes a little, like it always does when she says something unexpectedly sweet.

You: Your dumb face graduated? Unbelievable. When’s the parade? I’ll bring confetti and judgment.

Paige: Confetti welcome. Judgment expected. You still owe me a post-college road trip btw.

You: You still remember that?

Paige: I remember everything.

You let that one sit too long before you respond. You always do.

You’re in Chicago by now. Paige is in Dallas, bouncing between WNBA training camp and events she’s been invited to. You FaceTime late at night — her hair in a messy bun, hoodie drawn up to her chin, bags under her eyes from practice.

“Tell me something good,” she says.

You’re curled on your couch, legs tucked under a blanket, nursing your third glass of boxed wine. “I got ghosted by a woman who said I was ‘too emotionally literate.’ So, that’s something.”

Paige groans. “God, that’s actually a compliment.”

“You’d think. Apparently knowing my attachment style is a red flag.”

She smiles. “Well, for the record, I like that you’re emotionally literate.”

You glance at her through the screen. “What about you? Any secret girlfriends I should hate on sight?”

She hesitates for just a second too long. Then shrugs.

“Nothing that stuck,” she says. “People get weird about the schedule. The travel. The fame thing.”

You nod. “Yeah. That makes sense.” There’s a pause. “Sometimes I feel like everyone I date wants a version of me that doesn’t really exist.”

She hums. “I don’t want a version of you.”

You look up.

She’s watching you through the screen.

“I just want you.”

Your breath hitches.

She catches herself. Backpedals fast. “As a friend! Like—obviously. Duh. I mean. Yeah.”

You laugh, covering your heart with sarcasm. “Smooth.”

She blushes. “Shut up.”

But later, as the call ends and you set your phone down, the echo of her voice lingers like something you should’ve held tighter.

You visit her. Not for any special reason — you just needed to get out of the city, and she said “Come over.” That was enough.

It’s late. You’re two drinks in on her couch, legs tangled under a shared blanket, watching reruns of The Office for the thousandth time. She throws popcorn at you every time you quote a line wrong.

“I swear, your memory’s gotten worse,” she says, chucking another kernel.

You catch it in your mouth. “And yours is terrifyingly accurate.”

She shifts, pulling the blanket tighter around both of you. “I remember everything. Seriously.”

You turn to her. “Everything?”

She nods.

There’s a lull.

And then she says, without looking at you, “I still remember the trampoline.”

You freeze.

“…What?”

She keeps her eyes on the screen. “That night. The pact. I meant it.”

Your throat goes dry. “Paige…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she rushes. “I just — I think about it sometimes. How easy it felt, you know? Being with you. Like maybe we already had something people spend years looking for.”

You don’t know what to say.

She finally glances at you. “You ever think about it?”

Your voice is barely a whisper. “Sometimes.”

It hangs in the space between you.

You don’t kiss her. You don’t move closer. You both just sit there, holding the maybe of it.

And then the episode ends. The next one starts. Neither of you speaks again.

But she remembers that night too.

Your birthday. You’re in a new apartment in a new city. A new job. A new almost-girlfriend who doesn’t quite understand why your smile falters when Paige’s name pops up on your phone.

12:01 a.m.

Time’s almost up.

That’s all it says.

You stare at it.

Your almost-girlfriend is asleep beside you, breathing softly.

You don’t reply right away.

You lock your phone and turn toward the wall.

But your heart? Your heart answers back immediately.

You forget. You really do. With everything else going on — deadlines, bills, the mess of a half-put-together life — the pact feels like a dream from a different version of yourself.

You assume she forgot too.

It’s late.

Most of your birthday texts have come and gone. A few phone calls. One coworker sent a meme of a gravestone with “RIP your twenties” etched into it. You laughed politely. You don’t feel old, exactly. Just… removed. Like the years built a soft blur around who you used to be, and you're not sure which version of you today is the most true.

You spent the day with a few friends. Drinks. Takeout. Laughter that didn’t always reach your chest. Now, the apartment is quiet. Everyone’s gone. You’re in sweatpants, hoodie half-zipped, makeup long wiped away. You don’t feel particularly 30. You just feel… still.

The knock on the door is unexpected.

You glance at the time. 9:07 p.m.

Cautious, curious, you open it.

There she is.

Paige Bueckers.

In a jean jacket over a hoodie, hair pulled into a loose braid, cheeks a little pink from the cold. One hand holds a bouquet of tulips—white, your favorite. The other hand holds something small. Square. Velvet.

Your stomach drops.

“Hi,” she says.

You blink. “Are you—did I forget we were—?”

“No,” she says. “But I didn’t.”

You stare.

She shifts her weight like she might flee if you blink too hard. “I know this is a little insane. I know. I just… I didn’t want to let today pass.”

You glance at the ring box.

“Paige.”

“It’s not pressure,” she blurts. “It’s not—I’m not trying to, like, ambush you. I just remembered what we said. That night. On the trampoline. And I guess I’ve just… remembered it ever since.”

You step aside, nodding slowly. “Come in.”

She does. The air around her carries something familiar, a little wind, a little warmth, a lot of nerves.

You close the door. “You remembered.”

“Every year,” she says softly. “Every birthday. Yours, mine. I never forgot.”

You lean against the back of your couch. Your legs feel like they might give.

“And now that we’re here?” you ask.

She breathes out. Sets the tulips down on your kitchen counter. Still holds the ring box. Doesn’t open it.

“I didn’t know if I’d actually come,” she admits. “I’ve had it in my drawer for three months.”

“The ring?”

She nods. “I got it engraved. Dumb maybe, but…”

She flicks it open and shows you.

Since 17.

It knocks something loose in your chest.

“Paige…”

“You don’t have to say yes,” she says, voice quick now, scared of the silence. “I don’t even know what this is. Maybe you don’t feel the same. Maybe it’s just me still stuck in a night we barely remember the same way. But I couldn’t not come. I couldn’t—if there was even a chance, I had to try.”

You walk over slowly.

Her eyes track you like you might disappear.

You reach for the ring box, closing it gently with your fingers still over hers.

“I didn’t forget the pact,” you say.

She looks up, startled.

You laugh under your breath. “I didn’t let myself think about it. That’s different. I buried it under jobs and people and cities and time. But I remembered.”

Her voice wavers. “Then why didn’t you ever bring it up?”

“Because I didn’t think you meant it.”

She steps back like you hit her.

“I always meant it,” she says, almost breathless. “God. You think I kept texting you on every birthday because I was joking? You think I came to your city every chance I could just to hang out casually? You think I called you during every off-season just because I was bored?”

Your eyes sting.

“I thought I was the backup plan,” you whisper.

“No,” she says firmly, taking a step closer. “You were the plan. You were always the plan.”

You let the silence bloom.

There’s no music. No outside noise. Just your apartment and the hum of everything that never got said until now.

Finally, you speak.

“I’m not ready to say yes.”

She flinches. “Okay.”

“But I’m not saying no either.”

Her eyes dart to yours.

You take the ring box from her hands. “I want to say… give me tonight.”

“Just tonight?”

You smile softly. “Let me remember how it feels. Being around you. You. Not the past, not the pact. Just... this.”

She nods.

And then—almost like muscle memory—she moves to the kitchen to grab two glasses.

“You still drink that dumb hibiscus tea?”

You laugh. “Only when I want to feel mysterious.”

She pours the water. Boils it. Sits beside you on the couch like she never left.

And for the first time in years, nothing feels far away.

It’s barely morning when you wake.

Sunlight filters in through your kitchen window in faint, forgiving strokes. You’re curled up on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders and the faintest ache in your neck — a leftover from staying still too long in a moment that didn’t feel real.

Paige is sitting at the kitchen table.

She’s in the same hoodie from last night, her legs pulled up into the chair like she always did in college when she was trying to disappear. A mug of tea cradled in both hands, steam rising slowly into the soft quiet.

You watch her for a minute.

She doesn’t know you’re awake yet.

Her eyes are on the small velvet ring box sitting on the table.

Still closed. Still waiting.

Like her.

You shift, and the couch creaks slightly. She turns.

“Oh,” she says, voice low, careful. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” you reply, stretching slowly. “Been up long?”

“Not really.” She hesitates. “Didn’t sleep much.”

You sit up, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders like armor. “Too many thoughts?”

She smiles gently. “Something like that.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “Want breakfast?”

She shakes her head. “I can get something on the way out.”

You look at her. “You’re leaving?”

“Well…” She looks down at the ring box again. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

“I didn’t say no,” you remind her.

She nods. “I know. But you didn’t say yes either.”

You get up, feet padding softly on the wood floor, and walk to the table. You don’t sit yet. You just stand behind the empty chair across from her and look down at the ring box too.

It looks so small from up here. Insignificant almost. But you know better. There’s a lifetime tucked into that hinge.

“I wasn’t ready to say anything last night,” you say softly.

“I know,” she replies.

“I didn’t know how I felt. Still don’t, exactly. But…” You pause. “You stayed.”

She meets your eyes. “Of course I did.”

“And you didn’t ask for anything.”

“I didn’t come to ask,” she says. “I came to remind.”

You sit down slowly. Your fingers hover over the velvet box but don’t touch it. “Remind me of what?”

She swallows. “Of what we were. Of what we still might be. Of what I’ve been holding onto every time I said your name out loud like it meant more than just ‘friend.’”

You’re quiet for a long time.

She doesn’t fill the silence. That’s always been one of her best qualities—Paige knows how to wait without making it feel like pressure.

You glance at the box.

“You really bought this three months ago?”

She nods. “Didn’t know if I’d use it. But I couldn’t not have it.”

You press your palm flat on the table. Not touching her, not yet. Just there.

“It wasn’t a joke,” she says. “It never was. Even at seventeen. I meant it. Every birthday, every text. Every time I saw you with someone else and thought, ‘God, she deserves better.’ Every year we didn’t talk for a while and I still saved your number just in case.”

You lift your eyes slowly.

“Say it again,” you whisper.

She breathes in. Steady. Strong. “You were always the plan.”

Your throat tightens.

You nod once. Just once. Then you open the box.

The ring catches the light in the most unassuming way — not flashy, not grand. Just simple. Solid. Familiar.

You slide it out, turn it in your fingers, read the engraving again.

Since 17.

You set it gently down beside your tea. And finally, finally, you reach across the table and take her hand.

“I want to figure this out,” you say. “Not out of obligation. Not because of some promise made under the stars and trampoline nets. I want this because you showed up.”

Her eyes shine, lips parting in the tiniest smile.

“And because,” you add, “you’re the only one who ever waited without asking me to hurry.”

She exhales, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “So what now?”

You squeeze her hand. “Now we don’t rush.”

She smiles, wide and quiet and a little shaky. “So… I keep the ring?”

“For now,” you grin. “Don’t get cocky, Bueckers.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “God, I missed that.”

You lean in. Just a little. “Then stay.”

“I will,” she whispers, squeezing your hand like it’s the only thing holding her together.

And maybe it is.

The house is loud.

Your daughter is singing the Bluey theme song at full volume from somewhere in the hallway. Your son is crying because the waffle you gave him broke in half. And the dog — all seventy pounds of golden retriever joy — is sprinting back and forth with a half-eaten stuffed duck in his mouth like it’s his job to personally raise the decibel level.

You’re barefoot in the kitchen, cradling a lukewarm mug of coffee in both hands like it might save your life.

There’s crayon on the fridge.

Your daughter added a rainbow to the corner of the calendar and signed her name in uneven block letters.

It’s a mess.

It’s perfect.

And in the middle of it all is Paige.

She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that used to be yours and a pair of shorts that are barely hanging on. Her hair is pulled into a half-bun, and she’s got a pink hair tie looped around her wrist because Jayda insists they match every morning.

She’s kneeling on the floor with your son in her lap, holding him and whispering something that makes him hiccup through his tears. Slowly. Gently. The same way she used to talk you down from a spiral when the world felt too big.

“Hey,” you say from the doorway.

She looks up. Smiles.

It still hits you. Every single time.

“Crisis averted,” she says, rubbing your son’s back. “The Waffle Tragedy will not go down in history.”

“Are you sure? I think he’s already drafting a memoir.”

Your son sniffles.

Paige whispers, “Tell Mama you’re okay now.”

He nods into her shoulder.

You walk over and crouch beside them, brushing his curls back gently. “Good job, little man.”

He reaches for you with chubby arms and mumbles, “Wuv you.”

“I love you too.”

Paige stands up slowly and stretches, arms high, groaning like she’s eighty. “I need like... six more hours of sleep and a coffee the size of my head.”

You hand her your mug. “You can have mine. I only drank half.”

She takes it and sips. “Lukewarm. Just how I like it.”

You grin. “Liar.”

She leans in and kisses you. It’s quick. Familiar. Soft. The kind of kiss that comes with a hundred other ones before it.

From the hallway, your daughter yells, “MAMA! MOMMY! THE DOG STOLE MY HEADBAND AGAIN!”

You both groan.

Paige mumbles against your mouth, “Your child.”

You pull back with a raised brow. “She’s literally your clone.”

“Emotionally. But the drama? That’s all you.”

You chuckle, standing with her now, arms brushing as you head toward the hallway chaos together. But then you pause.

She notices and turns.

You’re watching her.

The kitchen. The kids. The crayon art. The ring still on her finger, older now, a little scratched, a little worn, but still there.

“I was just thinking,” you say.

“Uh-oh,” she teases. “That’s dangerous.”

You smile. “You really did mean it.”

She tilts her head. “The pact?”

You nod. “All of it.”

Paige steps closer and takes your hand. The same way she did on your 30th birthday. Like no time has passed at all.

“I still do,” she says.

Your son tugs on your pant leg.

Your daughter runs in with the dog trailing behind her, headband around his neck like a crown.

And you?

You laugh.

You press your forehead to Paige’s and say, “God, I’m so glad you showed up that night.”

She smiles.

And you both turn, hand in hand, back into the storm you built together.

Because this?

This is forever.

And she always meant it.

[pha55ed]

Midnight Cravings || CL16

type :: smut - blurb

tw/cw :: cock warming, edging?, somnophilia, pinch of size kink

summary :: being a f1 driver means he's constantly grinding on the stim. you can relate since you're always grinding on him

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || OVULATING CELLY!!!

Everyone says you're so lucky for marrying a rich man, which you are! You don't have to pay for a single thing: bills, clothes, makeup, food, anything! But the only thing you did need to do was keep him satisfied, which Charles will always say you do.

He's on his stim, yet again. He needed to perfect his laps for the upcoming race. With Hamilton as his new partner, he was a tad bit scared. The idea of being replaced used to seem like an insane idea. But after seeing Carlos be tossed away: Charle's newest nightmare was no longer "box box" but instead "I also understand it was never going to be Charles."

So you're there with him, comforting him in the best way possible. His dick buried deep inside of you while you watch him race. Your back was against his chest with his chin resting on your shoulder. You're sure that this angle is going to hurt his neck, but he simply shushes you and says his neck is one of his strongest muscles.

And if you don't shut up, then he'll quickly pause the game and make you shut up.

"It's almost 12am Charles," You say softly as you watch him restart the lap after slightly messing up on a turn. "You need to rest."

"Just..." He stops as he locks in at a hard turn. "Just a few more." he insists.

You huff, shifting you legs slightly. Moving was strictly against Charle's rules for cock-warming on the stim. Only he was allowed to move and pick when you two could fuck. The main reason being that last time you topped him, the stim broke. From "water" damage, is what he told Ferrari so they'd send him a new one.

"Stop that." He demands, his tone was quick as he continued to race He knew you wouldn't disobey him twice.

So you sat there, just staring at the screen. Patiently waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting... Gosh you're so sleepy. And you can't resist the urge to shut your eyes, so you do.

And before Charles knows it, you're fast asleep with his dick still deep inside of you. Filling you up to the top, barely brushing against the tippy top of your insides. You thank God that Charles wasn't any bigger or else you'd be sent to the hospital every day.

Once Charles is satisfied, he lets out a sigh of relief as he looks down at you for once. Seeing your peaceful face and trust in him made him so soft inside. But his dick was the opposite, if anything it was harder. Now his new task to complete was to see how he could cum without waking you up.

[loulou-land]

'Cause all of my enemies started out friends

So, I have no idea what this is, I just needed to work through some feelings. This was a challenge to write because its 95% dialogue heavy and that's never been my strong suit. But I really needed Tommy and Eddie to argue apparently. Fair warning, this isn't Eddie friendly, though I really tried not to go into character bashing. Please let me know if I need to include a warning for that.

Spoilers for 8x17 | arguing, mentions of grief, mild physical altercation, dialogue heavy, mild hurt/comfort | 1,625 words

“What did you say to him?” Tommy asks when he comes into the kitchen. 

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?” Eddie doesn’t look at him, just keeps stacking dishes in the sink. 

Tommy folds his arms, keeping a careful distance. “You’re the one who cut ties, Diaz. And believe me, I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have to.” 

He hates that it’s come to this. Eddie had been a good friend—someone Tommy genuinely thought understood him. But then he’d dropped him without a word, like he was yesterday's trash. And yeah, that had hurt more than Tommy wants to admit. He gets it, loyalty is complicated, and Evan was Eddie’s best friend. Still, that doesn’t excuse whatever’s been going on between them lately. Not when it’s left Evan looking so small and acting skittish. 

Eddie scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means,” Tommy says, locking eyes with him, “I’m pretty sure Evan left a lot out when he told me what happened. He downplayed it. I can see it in how careful he is around you. Like he’s afraid to say the wrong thing. So I’ll ask again—what did you say to him?” 

“Jesus,” Eddie mutters, shaking his head. “That’s what this is about? We had an argument. We moved past it—or at least I thought we did. But of course, Buck’s making it out to be bigger than it was. Making it all about him again. Has to be the one hurting the most.” 

Tommy stills. His voice, when it comes out, is quiet but razor sharp. “Is that what you told him? That he’s making it about himself?”  

Eddie finally looks at him, like he’s surprised Tommy’s even making an issue of this. 

“Eddie,” Tommy continues, voice tight with restraint, “Bobby died. His father in everything but blood. Evan’s allowed to hurt. However loud, however long he needs to. You don’t tell someone how to grieve.”

Something shifts in Eddie’s expression, turning defensive, bitter. “I lost Bobby too. And you—god, you don’t have any idea what that was like for me. For any of us. You’re not part of the 118. Not our 118.” 

The words cut straight through him, but Tommy doesn’t flinch. He takes a breath, rubs a hand through his hair, grounding himself. 

“You’re right. I’m not part of your family. But Bobby still meant something to me. And I was there Eddie. I might not have seen what it did to you, I saw what it did to Evan though. You didn’t—”

He pauses, remembering how helpless he felt, watching Evan break through a tiny screen, being unable to get to him. He meets Eddie’s stare, “You didn’t watch him fall apart.” 

“I should’ve been there,” Eddie says, sidestepping Tommy’s statement. Tommy wishes he could be surprised, but he’s starting to understand why Evan doesn’t feel like he can talk about his feelings. “I could’ve done something. I—”

Tommy lets out a bitter laugh. “I’m sorry, did I miss the part where you’re a miracle worker? A genius scientist with a cure in your back pocket?” 

Eddie squares his shoulders, puffing up with practiced intimidation. Tommy nearly rolls his eyes, but he knows baiting him won’t help. 

Still, Eddie stalks closer, jaw clenched. “Fuck you. You—”

“We all did what we could,” Tommy snaps, finally losing some of his own restraint. “I’m sorry you weren’t there. I really am. But don’t take your guilt out on Evan. He’s already drowning in his own and still trying to take care of everyone at the same time.”  

Eddie scoffs. “He’s spiraling, that’s what he is. And what the hell do you even know about Buck’s guilt? His pain?” he shoots back. “You dumped him. Left him.  And now what? He puts out one time and suddenly you think that gives you the right to waltz back in. He’s hurting, and you’re using that to your advantage.” 

Tommy’s whole body tenses. He can’t believe Eddie is insinuating he’s using Evan. That he would be that kind of person. And using the worst mistake he’d ever made, leaving Evan, against him? Something he’s regretted from the moment he left. 

He inhales sharply, fist clenched at his sides. Not because he’s thinking of swinging—never that. But the bite of his nails digging into his palms helps ground him. 

“Don’t you ever say that to my face again, Diaz. Or to Evan, for that matter,” he says, trembling with anger. “I’m here for him—in whatever way he needs me. I’m not asking for anything. I’m not expecting anything. Which is more that I can say for you.” 

Eddie reels back, nostrils flaring. His eyes flash angrily and Tommy braces himself. 

“No,” Eddie growls. “You don’t understand. Don’t pretend you know anything about our relationship.” 

“I know Evan!” Tommy interrupts. He refuses to let Eddie bait him with that dig. 

“You don’t know what Buck and I have been through. The bond we have. He’s like a brother to me.” 

Tommy stares at him, incredulous. “Brother?” He huffs out a sharp breath. “You barely treat him like a friend.” 

Eddie’s face twists. He jabs a finger toward Tommy’s face. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk about shit you don’t understand.” 

Tommy doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just meets Eddie’s fury head-on. 

“Diaz,” he says, voice tightly controlled. “Back off, before I break that finger.” 

“I love Buck. He’s family,” Eddie snaps, using the words like a defense. Like that single word erases all the damage he’s done.

Tommy bites the side of his cheek to hold in his immediate response. He breathes through it. Damn it. He’s not going to throw a punch. Not at someone Evan still loves, still looks up to—even if they don’t deserve it right now. 

He won’t be the one to hurt the people Evan holds close. Not even when they’ve done plenty of damage themselves. 

Tommy exhales, slow and steady. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” 

“Excuse me?” Eddie asks, a hitch in his voice now. 

Tommy meets his eyes, unflinchingly. “You call it love, Eddie. But love doesn’t make someone feel like a burden. Love doesn’t kick you when you’re down. Love doesn’t twist the knife when they’re already bleeding.” 

The words seem to land like a strike. 

Eddie flinches, staggering back half a step like the air’s been punched from his lungs. 

For a second, Tommy thinks that’s it. That he’s finally gotten through to him. 

Maybe now Eddie will actually take a look at himself—really look—apologize to Evan, try to do better. 

He gives him too much credit. 

Eddie’s face hardens, shutters down—and then he comes swinging. It takes Tommy off guard. He moves, but not fast enough, and the punch clips him on the side of the head. He’s already bracing to restrain Eddie when—

“Stop!” 

They both turn toward the entryway, where Evan stands. He’s breathing hard, eyes wide, clearly upset. It’s obvious, he’s been there a while, listening. 

Tommy feels a wave of regret crash over him. He never wanted Evan to hear any of this, let alone witness them like this. 

“You should leave,” Evan says quietly. 

Tommy’s heart sinks—until he realizes Evan isn’t looking at him. He’s staring straight at Eddie. 

“Me? Are you serious right now?” Eddie asks, incredulous. 

“Yes, Eddie. You.” Evan’s voice is sharp, angry. “You swung at Tommy. What the hell?” 

“Oh, of course you’re taking his side,” Eddie mutters, rolling his eyes. 

“This isn’t about sides,” Evan snaps. “You need to cool off. Before you dig yourself an even bigger grave.” 

His voice shakes with fury, but there’s a note of something else underneath. Hurt, exhaustion. Tommy sees it in the tremble of Evan’s hands, the rigid way he’s holding himself upright. 

“Just…leave. Don’t come back unless you’re ready to talk like a civil person, and apologize. To Tommy. And…to me.” 

He meets Eddie’s eyes squarely, head held high. Tommy watches, quietly awed. He knows how much it’s costing Evan to say this, but he’s doing it anyway. 

Tommy turns to Eddie worriedly. He can see it—the poison gathering behind his teeth, just waiting to spew out. 

“Eddie,” Tommy says softly, tiredly. Almost pleading. “Please. Take a walk.” 

Eddie glances between them. Something finally sinks in, because the fight drains out of him. He turns without another word and walks out the back door. The door slamming shut behind him. 

Tommy exhales in relief. He looks at Evan, who’s still watching the door with a sad, distant expression. 

“Hey,” Tommy says gently. “I’m sorry.” 

Evan frowns, eyes welling with tears. “Tommy, you don’t have anything to apologize for. You—” he pauses, swallowing hard. “You stood up for me.” His voice cracks on the last word. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Tommy doesn’t hesitate. He moves toward him, and Evan meets him halfway. They fall into each other, hugging tightly, grounding themselves in each other. Tommy runs a soothing hand down Evan’s back, trying to steady the tremors in his body. 

After a long moment, Evan whispers, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. I…I could’ve done it. But th—thank you.” 

“Anytime,” Tommy says fiercely. “I’m here for you.” 

Evan shudders, then pulls back slightly, offering him a small, smile. “I know.” 

He squeezes Tommy’s hand, then glances down at his lips. 

Tommy lifts his hands, cradling Evan’s face gently, and kisses him softly. 

They stay there, foreheads pressed together, breathing in sync, taking comfort in each other. 

They’ll have to deal with Eddie later. Sift through the wreckage and make sense of where they go from here. But for now, it’s enough that they have one another. They’re in this together. 

[mv1simp]

Agora Hills ♥️

Max Verstappen x Midsize!Reader

heavily requested part 2 to cuffing szn! Can also be read as stand alone/on its own too 😌😌

kissing, i hope they caught us, whether they like it or not (i wanna show you off, i wanna tie the knot)

Your sweet boyfriend, Max Verstappen, is a lot bigger than you are, and a lot stronger too. You know firsthand - when he uses it time and time again to prove how your curves are the perfect size for him, both in the bedroom and out of it. Your insecurities don't stand a chance against his protectiveness. This tough season, though, you want take control and look after him, and take all of his tension away. You might have underestimated just how strong Max is though...

content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom!max, reader who tries to be a dom but fails lol, overstimulation kink, brief mention of eating disorder, WC 4k

Filing your patient’s notes back in place, you warmly say your goodbyes to the nurses and make your way to the carpark. You loved your work as a doctor in women's health, truly you did - it was even how you’d met your loving boyfriend, Max, when you’d delivered his sister Victoria’s baby. But it had been a very trying week with numerous complex births and anxious new parents. On top of that, your sweet boyfriend, who’d normally take all your stress away in the evenings by breaking you apart with his strong hands and then putting you back together again, had been away for the past month on back to back race weekends.

So you’re very excited because he’s finally flown back into Monaco today, and you can’t wait to get home and see him. Tossing your Hermés bag - a one year anniversary present from Max - into the passenger seat, you slam on the accelerator and speed to his downtown penthouse that you’d recently moved into. Your dainty heels click against the hardwood floor as you walk down the hallway, curiously looking around the living room and pouting when you don’t spot him lounging on the sofa or back on his sim. Frowning, you think he must not have arrived yet - but then you spot the open French doors on the balcony.

Eagerly walking through them, your suspicions are confirmed when you see your boyfriend comfortable dressed in a hoodie and sweats, intently watching something on his phone and oblivious to the outside world. When he hears your excited Maxie! his thick neck snaps up, focused expression morphing into one of pure adoration as he swiftly stands up from the outdoor chaise and steps towards you. Schatje! he beams, broad arms opening to meet your running figure and easily picking you up to bury him face in your neck. You laugh delightedly, finally reunited with your golden retriever of a boyfriend. Missed you so much, pretty girl, Max murmurs, his deep voice muffled as he presses soft kisses all over your neck and chubby cheeks. Did you finish work early? Sorry, I got distracted, I was going to come pick you up.

You sigh contently, feeling some of stress of the past couple weeks leaving your tense figure just from your boyfriend’s warm and secure embrace. Max supports your full weight when you wrap your soft thighs around his toned waist, your YSL heels slipping off and landing on the ground. Not as much as I missed you, you promise, your small palms running across those ridiculously broad shoulders to gently tug at his soft locks. He draws back just enough to let your plush lips meet his, the pair of you smiling into the sweet kiss. You’re well on your way to a steamy make out when the ringtone of Max’s phone interrupts the mood. You pout as Max reluctantly pulls away, scowling when he sees his boss’s name flash on the screen. When he doesn’t bother answering the call, turning back to you instead, you curiously ask if he was going to get that.

Max firmly tells you absolutely not, I have much more important things I’d rather be doing as he carries you inside. He sets you down gently on the soft bed, moving to cover your much smaller frame underneath him as he grins down at your flushed face, his display of strength never failing to get your heart fluttering. Things like taking good care of my pretty girlfriend like she deserves, hmm?

Distantly, you hear his phone ringing again but it’s once again ignored as he leans down, desire clear in his gorgeous blue eyes. As much as you would rather resume your makeout session (and wow, did it take a lot of self control for you to pause this), you place a hand to his broad chest to gently halt him. He pauses, confused, and you tilt your head and ask if everything was okay, he normally would never miss Horner’s calls?

Max rolls his eyes at the mention of his boss’s name, flopping down next to you with his head propped up against a large palm. He grunts out that Horner had been up his ass for no reason lately, waffling and trying to skirt around the issue when Max had been very clear that the goddamn car was the issue this season.

Your boyfriend’s angled jaw clenches as he says this, his expression turning stormy as his mind wandered someplace else. You’re perplexed, as normally your boyfriend was a bit of a yapper - something you adored about him - and could easily complain to you for hours about anything troubling him. You feel a bit guilty as you may have taken a bit of a backseat this month given how rare a bad outcome was for Max’s races. You’d known that this season hadn’t been as stellar but assumed it would all smooth out - but by the looks of it, it clearly hadn’t, and you knew Max took his racing career extremely seriously and wouldn’t repeatedly avoid calls from Horner without good reason.

You sweetly apologise to Max for being so out of it, a worried expression on your face, especially since he had always been so attentive and caring to your needs. Especially last year when you’d been struggling with an eating disorder when fans had made vicious, jealous comments about your curvy figure once your relationship had gone public.

Max’s gaze softens as he looks down at your guilty brown doe eyes, his hand coming up to brush against yours which was resting on his stubbled cheek. His heart swells at seeing how cute you were trying so hard to make sure he was feeling okay. Oh, schatje, he croons, leaning down to lovingly kiss your adorably scrunched brows. Don’t worry, you always take such good care of me whenever I need it. It’s just the same old cycle of racing drama. Besides, things at the hospital were really hectic this month, right?

You try to protest the change in topic, wanting to bring it back to him, but then he’s sliding his tongue in to explore your mouth and you’re rather distracted, especially when his fingers trail up your fitted skirt. Your ass looks amazing in this, Max groans against your ear, his cheeks lightly dusted in pink despite his bold words, telling you he liked you in it so much he almost didn’t want to take it off. You giggle at that, coyly telling him he didn’t have to and guiding his hand to slide the skirt up over your thick hips, making his cheeks flush from your tempting show. Grinning wickedly, Max shamelessly lets his hungry gaze wander all over your curvy figure before he makes good on his earlier promise to take good care of his pretty girlfriend.

Really, there was no better stress relief than your boyfriend bending you in half, you think satisfactorily that evening when you and Max are out with friends for dinner. He catches your eye as you stretch your neck, your muscles pleasantly relaxed after a month of wound up tension. When he smirks at you over his G&T you flush, knowing he was probably thinking about how he’d had you in several different positions just a couple of hours earlier. Quickly joining the conversation on your right, you hope your friends don’t notice the heat rising to your cheeks everytime Max’s blue eyes meet yours. You two had been dating for over a year now, so you had no idea how he could still make you feel shy and flustered after an hour (or two) in bed.

Still, you hadn’t forgotten about your earlier conversation with your boyfriend, where you’d made it clear you wanted to support him more. Over the next couple of weeks, whenever you’d ask him about it, he’d open up a bit but you still noticed a frustrated edge to his behaviour. You tried to talk to him about it, of course, with a soft hand against his swollen bicep to sweetly murmur that you would always support him and ask how the latest debrief had been, was there anything you could do to help? You offered to cook his favourite dinner, or give him space to spend hours on his sim and practise, or personally go to headquarters right now and give Horner a peace of your mind for stressing out your talented boyfriend-

Max laughed, head tilted back and lips pulled into an adorable smile. You paused your rant to enjoy the sound of his genuine laughter, looking at him fondly as it never failed to make your heart race. But he’d still evade your inquiring questions and countless offers to do more, as your need to do more for Max the way he always supported you grew over the next month. For all his yapping, your boyfriend was very much an action man where it truly mattered.

So you made sure to attend his next race, rescheduling a few work commitments and joining him aboard his private jet to fly out to Singapore. He'd protested initially, of course, telling you that you didn't need to add more stress to your busy workload for his sake, but you'd firmly told him there was no where you'd rather be that weekend than by his side. And you remained steadfastly dedicated throughout the free practice and qualifying, diligently observing the team dynamics and Max's mood in response so you could debrief with him in the evenings, letting him yap about it to his heart's content. You made sure to give him space when he needed it or rub a soothing arm over his thick shoulders when he tensed, knowing how physical touch was your boyfriend's love language.

On race day, you arrived stylishly dressed in a House of CB floral corset dress and dainty heeled sandals that perfectly matched the weather. Smiling from behind your sunglasses at the multiple paparazzi and fan cameras clicking at you, you confidently walked alongside your boyfriend with your small hand in his much larger one. The pair of you made for a rather romantic sight with the large height difference, going viral on many a Pinterest board for your couple aesthetic. Of course, you'd learnt the hard way about how quickly public attention could burn someone badly with the hate comments you'd received about your weight or height from jealous fans when you two first went public. Although they had never stopped occurring, only increasing as you and Max stayed together, you had gotten far better at tuning them out. And it seemed your attentive boyfriend hadn't forgotten about it, either, judging by how his grip tightened around your delicate fingers and he protectively pulls you into his side when more paparrazi join the storm.

You're quick to reassure him, telling him how happy you were to be here, wanting him to focus on his race and knowing how guilty he would sometimes feel when reminded of how much his public career negatively affects those he loved. Besides, baby, you wink at him as he's about to buckle his helmet on in the driver's room, You know I hate to miss a chance to see you all worked up and sweaty in those slutty fireproofs!

Successfully diverted, your boyfriend now groans embarrassedly at your words, rolling his eyes but not being able to hide the cute blush that appears on his cheeks or his affectionate smile. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his chest warming at the sound of your happy giggles at his reaction. He can't resist pressing a kiss to your lips then, instead, making you promise you would stay safely in the garage the whole race. Of course, Maxie, you reassured, knowing he didn't need the worry of you encountering the occasional nasty fan adding to his stress. I'll be right here, I promise.

Once the race starts, you're asking yourself why on earth you weren't attending them more regularly, because the sight of Max expertly navigating the track never failed to make you hot and bothered. The high Singaporean temperatures only added to the heat on your face as you heard your boyfriend's normally gentle tone turn into a confident, demanding voice over the team radio. The race was a great one, with the Dutch Lion aggressively fighting his way to P2, making you clap your hands in excitement as he crossed the finish line.

Afterwards, his garage crew guided you to the podium, where Max's blue eyes sparkled warmly at you in the front row, as you laughed with delight, buzzing exctedly. You knew he had been raised to firmly believe only P1 mattered but since you'd begun dating him, you'd made it clear that he was always a strong champion and racer to you regardless of his position. You greeted him as he descended from the podium, beaming up at him as he took you into his strong arms to give you a passionate kiss, your heels lifting off the ground. Cameras clicked around the loving scene, but for once Max didn't mind, content in the feeling of you wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders to whisper how amazing his performance had been!

Setting you down, he took your smaller frame against his with his muscular arm across your shoulder, guiding you away from the crowd. He relaxes a bit closer to the safety of the garage, now answering some reporter's questions as they eagerly question him. He swears he'd taken his eyes off you for only a minute, but suddenly you're not at his side, and he immediately spins around mid interview to look for you. You're only a few meters away, chatting away to one of the news outlets. The reporter holding the microphone balks nervously when a angry looking, 6 foot blonde Dutch appears behind you, looking the very picture of a guard dog with his suspicious glare to the cameraman.

Noticing your boyfriend's intimidating presence, you welcome him into the conversation, saying you'd just been explaining how proud you were seeing him race, the turn into corner eight and when he'd overtaken the Mercedes with DRS were your favourite moments! The reporter hastily nodded, wiping away nervous beads of sweat as he confirmed Yes, yes, we were just discussing the race highlights, and many of our viewers were also eager to know who had styled your lovely girlfriend today, we had many fans hoping to buy the same outfit...?

Oh, Max says, softening his icy glare. Fine. My girlfriend is very beautiful, after all, I can see why those watching would want to have her style. Which she picks out, herself, by the way, no stylist or anything, he adds almost smugly. You giggle cutely at his overprotective antics, leaning in when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays by your side. Pinterest goes crazy that evening with the picture of your boyfriend adoringly gazing down at you, his muscled arm curled around your waist, as he listens to you animatedly explain your outfit to the reporter.

On the flight back home, he'd taken your smaller hand in his again, gently stroking it and avoiding your questioning gaze as he softly murmured that It had been hard, with work recently, and he'd loved having you there as a good luck charm. His cheeks are flushed again as he confesses, almost shyly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and looking down at your intertwined fingers instead of at your beaming face. He was grateful you'd come, knowing how hard it was to get out of work and also deal with the media circus. His words sounded dangerously close to guilty territory and you sit up immediately, pressing into him so that he finally looks up at you.

Not at all, Maxie you insisted, firmly telling him that the actual hard part had been trying to keep your hands off him, did he have any idea how insanely hot he'd looked when warming up with his trainer this week and boxing shirtless? I had to remind myself that this was technically your place of work and take a cold shower, you continue, enjoying seeing him erupt into laughter at your own confession. He'd slyly suggested that the race weekend was over and, well, maybe it was time to for you to finally join the the mile high club?

Your boyfriend always seemed to know how to make you flustered and you lose any upper hand you had immediately, gasping from his suggestive words and unable to meet his heated stare. Max! Wh-what if someone sees? you whisper nervously, to which Max laughs and tells you he'll just have to have you have you here on his lap then, where no one would notice. The cabin is already empty, giving you two complete privacy and Max doesn't hesitate to make the most of it. He uses the strong arms you'd been admiring to easily bounce you on his cock, the both of you still half dressed. You're completely powerless in his firm grip, eyes rolling in bliss as his large hands leave bruises over your hips from the intensity. You’re desperately trying to keep quiet and Max smirks at this, giving you another wicked thrust at just the right angle so you let out a squeal. You whine from his mean teasing and have to bite down on his shoulder to muffle your satisfied moans as he makes you cum on his cock, leaving a creamy white ring around the base. Afterwards, as he presses a loving kiss to your head as you fall asleep leaning against his shoulder, you can't help but pout over how little control you seem to have over Max in the bedroom as he uses his strength to control the pace. How were you ever going to make him go mindless and relaxed for once?

Of course, the drama continues with work well after Singapore, even though there was a month's break before the next race. Max's schedule is packed with meetings and discussions and debriefs on how to secure the WDC title again this year, and you make sure to keep an attentive eye on him. But to your frustration, you note Max is withdrawing again, turning down your offers to talk his frustrations through or let you take care of him for once. So after you’d already gifted him the latest e-sim racing game, and cooked his favourite foods for dinner, you naturally offered another one of your boyfriend’s favourite things - you.

When he returned from a late strategy meeting he’d had to fly out for, jaw tense and frustration evident on his face, he immediately felt himself start to unwind when he opened the front door of your shared apartment. The delicious smell of roast chicken and potatoes wafted out to the hallway, and he smiled as he walked towards the corner, knowing you must be in the kitchen from the Doja Cat song blasting that you hummed along too. Kissing and I hope they caught us, whether they like it or not...

Jimmy and Sassy, Max's cats, rubbed their tails along your freshly shaved and moisturised legs as you started cutting up the chicken you’d baked. Giggling at their demanding antics, you turn to kneel down and give them a small piece each, whispering that they had to promise they wouldn’t tell Max. An amused chuckle makes you startle and look up to see your boyfriend watching you, leaning against the counter. The tips of his ears go pink as he takes in your angelic white mini dress, its sweetheart neckline and tight waist with flowy skirt showing off your hourglass figure.

Maxie! You greet him excitedly, making his gaze wander when your tits press up against his firm chest when he bends down to let you kiss his cheek. You smelt so addictive, too, like honey and vanilla that he wanted to bury his face in and never leave. You excitedly show him what you’d made for dinner, stepping back and telling him to go take a shower while you finished up. And after he’d eaten your delicious cooking, groaning and telling you how much he missed it when away, you coyly smile and say you’d forgotten to make dessert but if he didn’t mind you had something sweeter you could give him?

The blush returns to Max’s face now as you lean him to give him a deep kiss before settling in between his thick thighs, spread wide apart. Within a few seconds you've pulled his impressive semi out of his sweats and are teasingly jerking him off, letting his leaking tip press against your chubby cheeks. It's a sight that never fails to drive your boyfriend wild and he groans when you swirl your wicked tongue over his sensitive head, one hand still pumping his shaft as you sweetly bat your wide, doe eyes up at him. He can see the curve of your plump ass on the floor peeking out as your white minidress rises up your soft thighs. You take him into your drooling mouth fully, eagerly deepthroating him and placing sloppy kisses along his length when you pull back to take a breath. Fuck, schat, it’s so fucking good, I’m not gonna last- Max swears above you, deep moans rumbling in his chest from your worship of him tonight, his blushing face thrown back into the sofa with pleasure as he threads his hands into your dark curls to softly tug at them. Pleased with yourself, thinking you'd finally gotten him to let go and relax, to let you take care of him for once, you jerk him off, your pink tongue darting out eagerly to catch his hot cum-

But your boyfriend has other plans, apparently, because suddenly he's leaning down and pulling you into his lap. You gasp at the unexpected movement, your hands automatically going around his broad shoulders. He kisses your protests away, leaving you whining that he should let you finish, you wanted to make him feel good, Maxie-

He cuts you off with a low groan against your lips, whispering you that you'd done such a good job, sweet girl, and now he wanted to eat dessert properly. And you hadn't been able to protest any longer because soon enough he had you sprawled across the soft sofa, moaning his name blissfully as he ate you out to completion. Always taste so damn sweet for me, schat he huskily murmurs against your soaked core, strong hand pressing on your soft tummy to hold you down. His blue eyes are trained on your flushed face as his deep, rumbling voice sends sparks shooting in between your legs. He then sends you into another head pounding orgasm when he sinks inside your inviting walls, whispering that it was never going to stop being the most addicting feeling he'd felt.

Face flushed from his generous praise, you desperately hold onto the cushions behind you as Max fucks you into the sofa. You plead with him to let you ride him, Maxie please, let me take care of you too-

Your boyfriend’s blue eyes darken at your request. Schatje, he croons into your ear, I wasn’t clear enough, hmm? The best fucking feeling in the world is having your tight pussy take my whole cock like this, letting me fuck all the stress away. He accentuates each word with a deep thrust, making you squeal and moan endlessly. So you stay right where you belong, sweetheart. Underneath me, taking all of me like a good girl, okay?

Your eyes widen at his dominating tone, your cunny clenching excitedly around his length at the thought of your normally sweet boyfriend using your body like a ragdoll to release his stress. You nod frantically, babbling that you’ll be so so good Maxie, I promise! Max grins wickedly at your teary expression, giving you a passionate kiss as he fucks you with full strength, not holding back as he drives you into a third dizzying orgasm. He’s not done, though, and your drooling pussy twitches from the overstimulation, making you gasp that it was too much, you couldn’t handle another one. Oh, we’re not stopping till I say so, schatje Max murmurs against your throat, making his way down to your bouncing tits and taking a swollen nipple into his hungry mouth. You promised to be a good girl, remember? This time you’re gonna squirt all over my cock.

—————————————————————————

A/N: thank you all sm for all the love and support for cuffing szn, i am absolutely here for the midsize girlies and glad you all enjoyed it so much!! Nothing like big boyfriend Max to get us going 😏 Hope part 2 is also good thank u for waiting so long for it xx lmk what u think!

[lovelettersfromluna]

Dream Girl

Summary: Did you seriously think you’d be able to get over someone like Ellie Williams? Think again, dream girl.

an: I’m so obsessed with this series and the portrayal of Ellie, there’s just something about a small town romance that scratches the sweet spot in my brain. I hope you guys have enjoyed this one just as much as I have! Thank you so much for all of the support 🤍

Warnings: smut! MDNI!! 18+, tribbing (another tribbing fic by Luna?? Ofc do you not know me by now?), lots of kissing, sub!ellie if you squint, angst, mentions of another love interest, mentions of cheating, reader sucks Ellie’s fingers, pet names, unsure and closed off reader, pls lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

You watched from your bed as the gentle wind blew your lace curtains further into your bedroom, the birds chirping as the early morning sun slowly rose, cascading a warm glow into your room, making you squint your sore eyes with a soft groan.

With the slow rise of the sun came the constant reminder that you’d spent yet another night without catching a wink of sleep, lying there as you allowed your thoughts to carry you to places you wished didn’t exist.

Places of your ex wife, the bitter taste of your marriage still lingering on your tongue, reminding you of everything that could have been, everything that was lost due to lust.

Places of Ellie, the person who stole your heart first. You think of everything that could have changed had you not gone to the city, how your life's outcome would have had such a great shift due to one tiny change within the line of events that made up who you were, and what you did with your life.

It all leaves the whole in your heart feeling bigger, wider, swallowing up so much of the tiny organ that it almost felt there was nothing left of it.

It had been only a few days since the last time you saw Ellie, and the memories of that night still lingering in you brain, hanging heavily in your mind, stopping you from focusing on anything but that.

Because as much it felt good to kiss her, you haven't even been divorced for a year, and the conflicting feelings that you had for Ellie, paired with the newfound distrust and heartbreak that came from your recent marriage caused a storm in your head, heavy clouds swirling about in the confides of your mind and making it heard to think, hard to breath.

It was all just too fucking hard.

But you knew life was different now. You weren't a teenage girl that could run from confrontations for her own comfort. You were a grown up now, experiencing grown up situations that called for grown up reactions. So you knew that you needed to talk to Ellie, no matter how much it hurt to even think about facing her right now.

You weren’t even entirely sure where to start. Texting her was an absolute no, despite how much easier it would be to confront her that way, behind a screen would do a great job at cushioning the blow that came with confronting Ellie. Calling fell under the same category, she deserved much more than a measly phone call from your end with the intention of patching things up.

Which left only one option. You had to see her in person.

You sighed softly as you sat up in your bed, looking over at your phone resting face down on your bedside table. You hadn’t touched it since that night, avoiding the device all together in fear that you’d see any messages or calls from the worried girl.

So you aren’t surprised when you finally pick it up to see just that. Ellie didn’t pry, there were about three phone calls and four messages, all of which came across far too understanding and supportive for someone that had been kicked out mid make out session a few nights prior.

You inhale deeply before you open up your messages with her, and begin typing.

Hi

I’m sorry I haven’t responded.

Are you busy today? Can we meet up? I feel we need to talk

You practically hold your breath until she responds, which doesn’t take a very long time because the minute you send your first message, she’s read it and already typing out her message back.

Hey, don’t apologize. I was just worried about you

Ofc we can meet. Farmers market is opened today, you wanna check it out?

You don’t even realize it, but her messages are making you smile the second you read them out. Probably because of how easy Ellie makes things, how hard it is to make things awkward with someone as kind as she is.

That sounds great.

I’ll meet you there

Cool :)

Despite the small amount of anxiety that has alleviated when you’re finished texting her, you know this is only the beginning, the easy part of a conversation that will be much harder to have, much harder to explain when you aren’t even sure how to navigate your feelings as it is.

But there was no use in putting it off any further, so you’re quick to get out of bed, brush your teeth, haul on a pair of old blue jeans and an old band t-shirt and make your way out to your car to meet Ellie in town.

It’s almost impossible to have a sour mood in a place as magical as your little town. The moment you got into your car, the warm sun soaking into your skin made you take a deep breath, allowing yourself to clear your head for a second before making your way out into town.

Your mom was right, the sun can cure more than you thought.

You hadn’t even realized it was Sunday, which meant it was your towns tradition to hold the farmers market in the town center. You used to look forward to it so much as a kid, knowing it would bring out the best of the people that lived here, showcasing the talent every person had.

Some people sold clothes that they made by hand, pieces that could only be made with love and care, something you often missed seeing in the city. Others sold jewelry, so delicately crafted it was almost unbelievable that someone was able to create something like it.

But your favorite? Was the food. Different pastries baked by the hands of men and women, recipes passed on from generation to generation to continue to breath life into the traditions that made up your town, tying one another together with a single cake or pie.

It was almost like magic.

You catch yourself smiling as you walk down the strip of stands already getting into their sales. Your heart warms at the sight of familiar faces, aged but still happy. You notice new ones as well, like when you approach a stand you remember being up when you were kid, one of which sold your favorite sweet rolls.

Your attention is far too occupied with chatting up the familiar curly haired girl at the stand, the same one that your visit when you were a teenager, eager to her mothers famous pastures. You’re surprised to see that there’s now a baby on her hip sporting the same head of spiral chocolate brown locks sprouting from her head, giggling and kicking excitedly as you introduce yourself, grabbing the babies hands as you catch your with her mom.

Ellie had arrived not long after you, standing nearby as she smiles fondly at the way the baby quickly becomes enamored with you. Watching you play with kids was something that always made her heart flutter with joy.

You giggle softly as she hands you both pastries, giving her a nod as she begs you to come visit her and the sweet baby more often. You hum softly as you struggle to push both your receipt and your phone back into your purse, groaning softly to yourself as you fail to notice the sudden looming presence that falls over the, gentle hands opening your bag wider as they aid you in putting everything away.

“Here, lemme help you” Ellie breaths out gently, her voice alone making you freeze as your eyes trail to her body to land on her face that was suddenly very close to yours.

She chuckles when she notices you staring up at her with wide eyes, nodding her head down to your bag.

“Come on now, would hate to make you drop those” she hums as she mentions the pastries in your other hand. You blink a few times before you clear your throat, giving a quick nod before you push your things into your bag with her help.

“Fuck…sorry…I…um…” you struggle to speak, adjusting your bag on your shoulders as you watch the girl step back with a soft smile.

“No worries, you alright?” She questions, neck craning down a bit to get a good look at you, her own big green eyes staring into yours, making it hard to breath.

God, this was going to be much harder than you thought.

You inhaled deeply, opening your mouth to speak before closing it, looking down at the sweet rolls in your hand before outstretching your arm to hand one to her.

“I bought this for you…I figured you hadn’t eaten yet so…” you mumble out softly, watching as she stared at you for a moment before looking down at the perfectly packaged baked good in your hand.

Her heart warming at the mere thought of you thinking of her in that way.

She smiles softly before she nods, placing her hand on the small of your back as she began guiding you out of the small strip of stands.

“So sweet of you…c’mon, there’s some places to sit right up this way” she suggests, giving you a small reassuring smile as she leads you there.

Somehow it seems perfect. The sun, the birds chirping, the little shady spot that Ellie leads you over to, covered by the biggest tree with the prettiest flowers slowly drifting down from above. It’s truly something out of a dream….

It made you wish this was all a dream.

You let out a soft sigh as you sit opposite of Ellie on the wooden bench, your fingers toying with the paper the pastry in front of you is wrapped in. Ellie frowns as she watches you closely, knowing the expression far too well. She could see just how much you were in your own head, how the events you two shared prior lingered in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything.

You couldn’t even look at her, and she hated that.

She inhaled deeply before she reached a hand out, gently placing it atop yours.

“I hope you didn’t bring me out here to apologize…because you don’t have to” her words are soft, and sweet, and it makes your throat get tight because she shouldn’t be so kind to you after what you did, after the way you treated her.

You don’t respond, so she takes the opportunity to keep talking.

“I get that things are probably hard…and I shouldn’t even have kissed you that night…so I’m sorry” she tries again, and you scoff softly before shaking your head.

“Don’t…don’t apologize” you mumble out before you inhale deeply, finally looking up, only not at her, at the scenery around you both.

“I caught her in our bed, with some girl she worked with” you mumble out softly, fingers mindlessly running along the rough surface of the wooden table.

“I probably should have seen it coming….but I think I wanted things to work out so badly that I just ignored it” you shrug slightly as you explain before you finally look over at Ellie, who’s already staring intently as she listens to you.

“Ellie I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, or to think that I’m using my divorce as an excuse for what I did, for what happened between us….but I just need you to know that I’m hurting, and it’s just….hard for me to open myself up to something like that again after what happened” your voice breaks as your emotions threaten to give you away, chin wobbling as tears pool in your eyes.

But you don’t let them flow free. You don’t want to cry anymore, not over this.

“I…I just need time….” You silently beg, beg for her to understand what it is you’re going through, what it is you’re experiencing.

It scares you when she doesn’t answer right away, her green eyes scanning your face as she takes it all in. It’s a lot, and you know that, but there’s a tiny part of you that begs for Ellie to do what she does best, which is tell you exactly what you need to hear.

She blinks a few times before giving you a nod, paired with a soft smile. “You don’t even have to ask….you know I’d understand no matter what”

You inhale deeply as you watch her, her gentle eyes, her soft smile telling you that all would be fine. It make your stomach churn because you feel like you don’t deserve it, you feel like she deserves so much more than what you’re giving her.

You two haven’t even addressed what actually happened that night.

There’s nothing more to do than to simply smile back at her. It’s weak, and it isn’t much, but it’s all you can mange right now.

Ellie smiles softly at you before she looks down at the rolls in front of you both. “As good of a baker that Mary Beth is….i think we need some real food” Ellie hums out softly before she swings her leg over the bench to get up, nodding her head towards a small diner nearby.

“Come on. Let’s get something to eat” she suggests, holding her hand out for yours.

She notices the way your eyes linger on her calloused hand, unsure of whether or not you should take it, unsure of what signals it would send if you did.

You were unsure of everything. Unsure of Ellie, yourself, your own feelings. Nothing felt solid enough to trust, and you hated that someone like Ellie could make you feel that way, even though you knew that it wasn’t her that was making you feel that way, but rather what happened to you instead.

She can see it, she can see right through you and for a moment her frown mimics yours before she it turns into a soft smile.

“As friends” she affirms gently.

She sees a flash of something ripple through your eyes at this when you finally look up at her, something she doesn’t want to read too much into, something that she knows she can’t dive into for your own comfort, and perhaps even hers too.

A moment passes before you crack a weak smile, placing your hand into hers before you nod. “Yeah…as friends” you manage to make out weakly before grabbing the things off the table, shoving them into your bag and leaning into Ellie’s warmth as she guides you to the diner.

Ignoring the bitter taste left on your tongue at the way Ellie assured you that she was your friend, and nothing more.

Your mind was in absolute shambles.

It had been a few weeks since the farmers market with Ellie, and truthfully all had been well between the two of you. You both ate together, talked, laughed, you were even able to talk about your divorce, explaining to Ellie how you felt, what it had done to you, and she listened to it all, nodding along to your words, giving you the advice you didn’t want to hear, but very much needed. For a moment it was easy to forget all about the tension that had settled between you both, the thoughts that plagued you were finally silenced as you allowed yourself to just simply be.

That was until you got home.

The second you were in your bedroom, lying there, staring up at the ceiling, memories of that night began to flood into your mind. You could feel it all so clearly, Ellie’s hands on your body, her lips pressed against your mouth, gasping for air, her tongue sliding against your own. Her words echoed throughout your mind, desperate pants and moans of how she needed you, of how you needed her.

You couldn’t sleep a wink.

It felt as though you hadn’t even talked to her, as if things hadn’t glossed over to where they were okay, a point where things were fine between you both. They were, but the feelings you had were still there. You thought that if you had at least talked to Ellie, explained to her what you were feeling, it would give you a head start on where to go with sorting out your own feelings.

None of that ever came.

Your body yearned for a moment of peace from the issues at hand, you wanted to feel the same way you felt when you were sat at the diner with Ellie, her laugh and her sparkling smile distracting you from the things you were feeling.

But you knew you couldn’t turn to her for a distraction, you couldn’t use her to occupy your mind from facing things that you’d much rather ignore. That wasn’t fair to her and it would only hurt you further in the long run, lengthen the grieving process of the death of your marriage.

You couldn’t do that to Ellie.

You could however, go somewhere that you knew would clear your mind the moment you were there.

The low hum of your car engine shuts off as you pull up to the familiar clearing, a gentle smile on your face as you can already hear the gentle stream of the water the moment you’re stepping out of the car.

The old creek was one everyone in your town treasured, a tiny glimpse of paradise in the confides of your backyard. It was where all the seniors would go for senior skip day, and where families would visit to spend the day with their children. If there was any place that the people of your town would be during the summertime, it would be the creek.

And rightfully so, the waters sparkled like nothing you’d ever seen before, the shady trees hiding the spot away like a secret that belonged to you and only you. You had many fond memories of the place, ones with your family, your siblings, your old friends from school.

Ellie.

You and her would visit the spot any chance you got, diving into the cold water the moment you were there. You could recall the moment you two first found out, thinking it was a secret only you two shared, just to find out your parents had been visiting when they were your age as well.

Regardless of the fact that it didn’t belong to you two, it felt like it. A small piece of the world that you and Ellie could call your own, sharing secrets there with one another, Ellie pushing you off the old swing tied up to one of the trees before she swung in soon after, diving in and holding you close to her chest as she promised you’d be together forever, for as long as you both lived.

The intensity that you both shared as teenagers often made you laugh. What a silly thing for two teenage girls to say who have barely experienced the world out there.

You let out a gentle sigh as you rugged off your denim shorts after setting your spot up. A small blanket settled down with your bag, your old camera and a few books, clearly having every intention of staying the entire day, swimming to your hearts content.

Once you’re stripped of your clothes, your body only clad in your old bathing suit, you waste no time in making your way down to the water, shivering slightly once your toes hit the cold water, wiggling them in the process.

You’re convinced swimming in the small body of water has to have some sort of mystical healing properties, because the moment you’re diving your head under, eyes examining the aquamarine world that is below the surface, your mind is clear. It makes you feel like you could live there, swimming amongst the different underwater caverns and the fish, creating a whole new world below as the little mermaid you always dreamed to be.

Your mother always told you she thought she’d given birth to a little fish when your father first took you swimming.

It’s so easy to lose track of time when you’re like this, floating around in the water, letting its coldness wrap you up and swallow you whole. It’s almost comforting how quiet it is, the only sounds being the gentle stream of the water, the wind rustling against the tree leaves and the frequent sound of the birds chirping to let you know that you weren’t alone, letting you know they were there with you.

You don’t even realize it but you’ve spent hours swimming about in the small pond, the grumbling in your stomach finally stops you for a moment to actually think about anything other than swimming, forcing you out to lay out onto your blanket and dry in the sun, occasionally popping the sweet berries into your mouth you’d brought from home.

The book you’ve brought with you also silences the outside world, allowing you to flip from page to page without thinking of anything but the regal characters that seemingly had much more to worry about than you. What a world it would be to wear uncomfortable dresses and attend balls in the hopes you’d find the perfect husband.

What would they think of your divorce?

It makes you snort to yourself, a gentle hum leaving your lips as you flip another page, unaware of the sudden sound of feet crunching against the grass slowly approaching you.

The high pitched sound of your name being called rips your attention away from your book, furrowing your eyebrows a bit as you cup your hand above your eyes to shield from the sun, trying to get a good look at who it was that was disturbing your peace.

“I didn’t think I’d be seein’ you here! What a surprise!” Lilac chirps out, her curly hair tied up into a perfectly styled bun, tight coils framing her face as she clutches her towel to her chest.

You hadn’t seen her since the night Ellie took you out to the Copper Cat a few weeks ago, the girl not lingering on your mind much as you had much bigger fish to fry. You were honestly a bit shocked that she’d even remembered your name.

You give her a gentle smile as you sit up, your legs folding to cross one another as you give her a small smile.

“Good to see you Lilac….going for a swim?” You ask her, watching as the girl takes the spot right next to yours, her blanket fitting perfectly up against your own as she gives you a confident nod.

“Mhm! It’s too hot…bless Ellie’s heart for sharin’ this place with me. Don’t know what I’d do without it” she chirps out as she tugs her own denim shorts off, leaning her in the cutest little bikini.

You know she doesn’t mean it in the way that it sounds, bragging about being introduced to the small clearing by your ex girlfriend, and you knew that it was only in due time that this place was mentioned to her by someone in your town, making sense that Ellie would do it first since that’s just the kind of girl Ellie was.

But there’s just something that tugs at your heart at the thought of it all. Ellie mentioning this place to her, the two of them coming down together, alone, Lilac adorned in another one of those adorable bikinis she had to show off to Ellie her gorgeous body as they play in the water together.

Something about Ellie sharing the spot you two shared with someone else that just rubbed you the wrong way.

You inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves as you remember that this girl owes you nothing, Ellie owes you nothing and Lilac has been nothing but kind to you from the moment she met you.

Giving her a gentle smile as she settles down next to you, you nod. “It’s pretty great out here…I’m surprised it isn’t so packed. Seems we got lucky” you give her a nod before you sigh, turning your attention back to your book.

She smiles fondly as she watches you turn your attention back to your book, her neck craning down a bit to get a good look at the cover, gasping softly once she realized what it was you were reading.

“You read those too? I love them! I just finished the first two” she beams, a soft hum leaving your lips as you look up at the girl, raising your eyebrows at her comment.

“Really? Most people think they’re super corny” you pout softly as you turn the book over to look at the cliche cover, which only earns a firm head shake from Lilac.

“Honey I’m a hopeless romantic, I daydream more than I actually try talking to people” she giggles out softly, giving you a gentle shrug.

Her words make you chuckle softly, gently closing your book as you toss it to the side before sitting up to mirror her posture, crossing your legs as you suddenly give her your full attention.

“You’re a hopeless romantic? But…Lilac you’re gorgeous. I wouldn’t be shocked if you have every single guy here desperate to get a chance with you” you confess, which only makes her shake her head as she gives you a shy smile, gently shoving your knee.

“Don’t you dare! I’m awful at talking to people” she pouts out, her eyes dropping from her own as she stares down at the flowers on her blanket, delicate fingers tracing the patterns gently as she lets out a gentle sigh.

“If I’m being honest…it’s not the guys here that I want…” her words trail off softly, and it makes you pout softly as you eye the girl, seeing how whatever is on her mind is clearly bothering her, plaguing the girl just as much as what was on your mind.

You open your mouth to ask her about it, feeling bad about whatever she was going through, but she’s quick to shake her head and put on a bright smile once she looks back into your eyes. “But let’s not get into that! M’glad you’re here to join me today” she breaths out, her voice sweet and genuine as her eyes soften.

And it makes your heart rate finally slow down, seeing just how genuine the girl seemed, how happy she was to be there with you regardless of the fact that you were as good as a stranger to her than anything more.

You smile softly as you nod, leaning forward and placing your hand on hers, giving a gentle squeeze. “Don’t mention it, Lilac” you hum out softly.

If there was anything you didn’t expect to do today, it was to have made a new friend, especially one in Lilac. The two of you spent the entire day down at the creek, laughing together, swimming together. The more time you spent with her, the more you realized just how much in common the both of you had.

Being completely honest with yourself, she had more kindness in her pinky than anyone in the city ever did.

The sun has set, and the breeze blew against your warm skin as you leaned against your car, Lilac in front of you as she made yet another joke that had you throwing your head back as you let out a loud laugh.

“Stop I feel the same way! I always wondered what happened to him” you gasp out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you lean back to shove your back into the passenger seat of your car. Lilac giggles softly as she nods, her arms crossed over her chest as she swatted away the mosquitos slowly began to swarm around you both.

“He’s still an idiot, some people never change I fear” she groaned out, a prominent pout on her perfect lips before she cocked her head to the side, smiling fondly at you.

“Ellie was right about you, you know? You really are somethin’ special” she breaths out, and it has your eyes going wide at the mention of the girl. It makes you realize that you hadn’t thought about her all day, not since Lilac had joined you.

It makes you wonder what other things Ellie had said about you.

You whine softly as you bring your hand forward to nudge her playfully. “Shut up….you’ll blow my head up” you warn the girl playfully before you sigh softly, looking over at the sun that was slowly bur surly setting, the once warm glow that casted onto you both disappearing.

“Ahh I should get going…we shouldn’t be on the roads too late” you breath out softly, turning towards the girl and giving her a small smile, only to see a sad one on her face.

You frown softly as you watch her, leaning forward and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Hey? You okay?” You ask gently, suddenly worried about the girls shift in her mood.

She lets out a gentle sigh before she looks down at her feet, kicking around the gravel below before she lets out a soft hum. “I know we don’t know each other well…but…I feel like you’ll be my only help with this” she admits to you, her eyes still casted downwards before you assure her with a soft voice. “Of course you can..” you mumble out softly.

She finally looks up at you, taking a deep inhale before she gives you a half smile. “I…think I like Ellie” she breaths out, as if she’d been keeping it held in for so long, as if finally telling you was letting a weight off of her shoulders.

Letting it off of hers and slamming it down onto yours.

You find it hard to breathe, because suddenly you’re shot back to the first night you met Lilac at the Copper Cat. Ellie’s hand on her waist, hers on Ellie’s arm as she whispers in her ear, the two of them matching one another far more than you felt you could’ve ever matched Ellie. You feel threatened, and it sets a fire off in your chest, and you feel like the world is crumbling around you as this beautiful girl admits her innocent feelings for your ex girlfriend.

When you don’t speak, she continues.

“And I just…you and her are so close, so I was hoping maybe you could give me some advice? Should I go for it? Do you…think she’d like me back?” She asks hopefully, twiddling with her fingers nervously as she watches you closely, awaiting your response.

You stare are her blankly, your body working on autopilot as you try to work your way through this. Seeing her that night felt like it might’ve all been in your head, especially when Ellie ran out after you and left the moment you were ready, but now this is all real. This is Lilac confirming that what you felt was real, and this was the reality of coming back to your hometown, more specifically your ex girlfriend.

And as you stand there, trying to figure out what the hell to say to this girl, you can only see someone doing the same thing that you’re doing. She’s a young girl, looking for love in this crazy fucked up world, and she’s unsure of herself. Someone as beautiful as her is unsure of herself and you could only wish that someone would have guided you when you were pursuing your ex wife, a third party bystander giving their advice and helping you through it all.

Because as much as it kills you? Ellie deserves love, and so does Lilac, and if they find it in one another, who the hell are you to take that away from them.

The both of them owe you nothing.

You inhale deeply before giving her a soft smile, nodding as you reach out to give her arm a gentle, assuring squeeze. “I think Ellie would be thrilled to be with someone like you, Lilac….you should go for it” you breath out genuinely, watching as the girls face lights up with joy with your confirmation, an excited squeal leaving her lips.

“I was hoping you’d say that! You’re an angel” she squeals, reaching forward and grabbing you up into her arms as she gives you a tight hug, swaying back and forth as she tucks her chin into your shoulder.

You can practically feel the happiness radiating off of her.

You smile softly as you nod, wrapping your hands around her as you hug her back before you hum. “You didn’t need me…you’ll be great on your own” you assure her before you pull away, giving her a reassuring nod.

She smiles brightly as she nods before she lets out a loud sigh. “Right…get home safe, alright? And text me! We can hang out sometime this week” she sings out as she gets into her car, giving you a wave as she begins pulling off.

And suddenly you’re left there all alone, with the newfound thoughts that are swirling about in your head. You know already that you won’t be able to sleep, not with the mental image of the two of them dancing around in your mind, forcing you to face reality, face the facts that time moves on with or without you.

But you were tired of being left behind, you were tired of being the last one to know things, the one broken heart in a sea of mended ones.

Driving off in your car from the creek gives you time to think, the cool breeze kissing your skin, pushing your hair back as the radio plays your favorite songs, creating somewhat of a perfect scenario to think things over rather than running from them.

While it all hurts, you know that there’s no use in standing in the way of Lilac or Ellie or whoever for that matter. Life would continue moving, and in that meant new love would be found, for both you and Ellie, it just felt like that wouldn’t happen for you in the moment, even if you knew it would.

But you were going to move on from this. And you were going to be fine, no matter how long it took for you to catch up with the tracks of life that seemingly always got the best of you.

There’s something therapeutic about hanging up the laundry on the old clothes line in your backyard.

You used to make fun of your mom all the time when she did it, telling her that there was a perfectly good dryer inside that would take less than half the time to dry the clothes than they did outside, not to mention less work when it came to picking them in.

However as you’ve grown older, there’s something so simple about walking outside with your basket on your hip, the gentle smell of detergent blowing into your direction as you pin up several articles of clothing, your white sheets, anything that you’ve washed, that tickles your brain in the best ways.

That, and the fact that these days you’ll take any task to fill your brain with thoughts other than Ellie or your ex wife.

Things had been fine. You spoke to Ellie here and there, dropped dinner off at Joel’s house that you knew he made sure she got some of whenever you made extra, you even made time for Lilac within the week as well. You’d picked up a small job in town as well, working at the cashier of a small floral shop that had been in town from you could remember.

So although your mind drifted to places you didn’t often like, life was fine. Life was slow, and life was good.

Lilac constantly gushed to you about Ellie, talking about all the progress they’d been making, asking your opinion on the girls behavior, which you always tried your best to help with. Although the strange thing about it all, was you heard nothing from Ellie about the situation. She didn’t mention anything about Lilac, not even when you brought it up.

It wasn’t long until you began distancing yourself from the both of them, knowing how hard it would be once they became official and you had to live life in a world where they were together.

Because although you were doing okay, the wound was still fresh, and you had to keep your peace.

You hummed a gentle tune softly as you continued hanging up your linen on the line, enjoying the feeling of the cool summer breeze against your skin, the dandelions dancing along through the air as they became loose from their stems.

The sound of your fence creaking open cuts right into your thoughts of housework, forcing you to turn around as you hang up another one of your sleep shirts, a soft smile on your lips when you catch sight of the familiar tall brunette walking into your backyard, both her hands shoved into the pockets of her denim jeans.

“Ellie…didn’t think you were coming over” you sigh out softly as you clip the end of your shirt up, continuing to hang up your clothes regardless of her being there.

“Was in the neighborhood….I thought I’d stop by” she breaths out, eyes taking in your form as you continue with your chore.

Her voice seems like something is bothering her, and you catch onto it the second she utters her first syllable. You know already why she’s here, to question you about your sudden absence, wondering if things were okay with you or not, worry clear in her tone.

“You…haven’t been around lately” she mumbles out, that same worried tone laced throughout her words.

It was just as you suspected.

You frown, thanking the task of laundry that hides your expression from her. It’s so much easier to lie to Ellie whenever you’re not looking into her eyes.

“Oh…I’ve just been uh…dealing with some stuff” you’re quick with the excuse, clearing your throat before you turn around to give her a soft smile. “I’m fine…honest” you give her your best attempt at a reassuring nod before you turn back to your laundry.

You have to turn away from her quickly, because you can see from the small glimpses you get of her that she’s frowning, and her brows are furrowed together with something that’s bothering her.

You hope she’ll leave after you tell her you’re fine.

But she doesn’t. You don’t hear her respond to your words, or even turn around silently to go about her day. You hear nothing behind you, only the sound of your white sheets wafting through the wind, drying on the line before you.

You frown when you look down to see your basket is empty, and the task of pinning up your clothes is no longer present to hide you away from Ellie.

So you need to get rid of her.

You inhale deeply, picking up the old basket and placing it on your hip, putting your most believable smile on your face before turning around, finally locking eyes onto the girl to see something that makes your heart sink.

It looks like she hasn’t slept, prominent bags under her pretty eyes, pouty pink lips chapped, most likely picked and bit at out of anxiety, a bad habit you knew she had whenever something was bothering her. Your heart tugs at the image, wanting nothing more than to pull the girl down into a hug, consoling her and telling her that whatever was bothering her, would be fine.

But you can’t. Because things aren’t the same anymore.

You inhale deeply before you nod your head towards your back door. “Well…I have lots to do inside…more house work…dinner” you explain, trying your best to hint at Ellie leaving without having to say so.

“Did I do something wrong?” She finally makes out, her words a clear plea to understand the situation rather than a half mumble that she’d rather not say.

It makes you furrow your eyebrows, watching the girl with a confused look as you try to understand her.

“Wrong? Ellie…I’ve barely seen you. What could you have possibly done wrong?” You try, confused of the sudden outburst from the girl.

Her eyes are stormy, hazy and hard to read. Her brows are knit as she looks down at the floor before looking back into your eyes, a prominent frown on her face.

“Why would you tell Lilac that there’s something worth looking for between her and I…why would you…” her words trail off, as if she wants to say more, as if she wants to persist with knowing why you would have done such a thing.

And soon it all starts making sense.

You wish Lilac wouldn’t have said anything. You wish she wouldn’t have told Ellie that you were the one that told her to go for it, even if she was the one that asked in the first place. You wish she would have just pursued Ellie without any mention of you, because was that even necessary? You know she must have done it to gush about you even further, the girl becoming enamored with you from the moment she saw you, and even more so once you two became closer.

But for the love of god…did she really have to tell Ellie that you were the one to tell her to go for it?

You open your mouth to speak before you sigh softly, your hands squeezing the handles of your clothes basket before you speak. “I….she spent the day down at the creek with me and when we were about to leave she told me she liked you…and she asked me if I thought she should pursue you” you explain with a shrug of your shoulders, which only makes Ellie scoff in disbelief.

“And you told her that was a good idea?” She argues back, as if it were the dumbest thing you could have ever done. She says it as if it were common knowledge to tell the girl other wise, you raise your eyebrows when she says this.

“Yeah? Why not? Lilac is…she’s fucking gorgeous Ellie. Anyone would be lucky to have her, and you should be happy I put you on with someone as great as her” you mumble out as you slip past the girl, clearly done with Ellie and this conversation as you walked up the wooden steps leading to your back door.

But Ellie isn’t finished with you, because she’s quick to follow behind, closing the door behind you as you make your way into your laundry room to set your basket down, your hands going to your hips once you turn around to see the girls built figure standing in your doorway.

“Ellie come on…I have things to do…you need to go” you huff out as you slip past her once again, going off into your living room to start on the dried laundry that needed to be folded, hoping that the girl would simply drop it and leave.

“You know I understood you the night after the show, and I was more than willing to give you all of the space you need, but this feels like you’re playing some sick joke on me” she’s standing over you now, watching as you try to ignore her in favor of some pillow cases that needed folding.

“Is pushing me into the arms of someone else your solution? And ignoring me until I’ve forgotten all about it? Is that the plan? Is that seriously what you think it’ll take to get rid of me?” She tries again, her voice pleading with you at this point as she watches you ignore her.

But this time you done, your hands drop to your lap as you stare up at her in disbelief before you toss the pillow case to the side, standing up opposite of her.

“I never had a plan! Lilac asked me a question and I was honest with her. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be happy with someone else” you explain to her before you finally feel as though you’ve had enough, a huff of annoyance filling the silent air as you round the couch to slip away into the kitchen.

Before you’re fully there, Ellie’s voice is echoing off the walls.

“But I can’t be happy with someone else!” She shouts out, her arms flailing up inti the air before dropping down to her side, the sound of her palms slapping against her jeans before she sighs.

You stop dead in your tracks when you hear that one, your back still turned to her.

“How could I possibly be happy with anyone else when you’re all I fucking think about….” Her voice is tired, and it’s almost as if she’s begging you for something, something you are not capable of, something you cannot give.

Begging for you.

“From moment we had our first kiss….to the moment I said goodbye to you before you left for the city…I’ve only ever wanted you” you can hear her getting closer, slowly making her way towards you as you stand there at the edge of your kitchen, frozen, silent, unable to say anything to her as she confesses these things to you.

“It’s pathetic, and I’ve tried to suck it up for your sake because I know….you’re going through a tough time after that moron did what she did….but I can’t fucking hide anymore” she breaths out, and it sounds the same exact way that Lilac sounded when she admitted to you that she had feelings for Ellie those nights ago.

Your back is still turned to her, and you know she’s right behind you because her smell fills up your lungs and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to fight all of it back, everything that you’ve done, all that you’ve worked through from the moment you got home to get to the point that you were at currently.

But you feel all of it break the moment Ellie’s strong hand grips your shoulder gently, sighing softly as she speaks.

“Look at me….please angel…” she begs, her skin wafting onto your neck as she tries her best to fight the urge to grab you right then and there and kiss you.

When you finally turn around, her heart breaks, because the whites of your eyes are red, and there are heavy tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, making them sparkle in the warm light of your kitchen, looking so beautiful yet so tragic all in the same time.

Her chest tightens as she leans in to cup your cheek, fighting back the urge to groan as she inhales deeply. “I can’t…I don’t wanna pretend like I’m not still in love-“ you’re quick to cut her off, your tears spilling out onto her cheeks the moment you hear the word.

“Don’t…don’t say it” you warn her with shaky words, struggling to even speak with the burning sensation in your throat.

You don’t think you could handle it, hearing those words fall from someone’s lips again, the fear rising the moment they hang from Ellie’s, flashbacks of you’re wife at the alter, promising you everything and more before she kissed you and whispered in your ear that she loved you.

It’s scary, and it makes you feel terrified of Ellie.

Before she can carry on even further, trying her best to convince you that her words are true, silently begging you to hear her out as her wide green eyes stare down into yours, you’re cutting her off.

“I told you already Ellie…I’m not….i can’t do this again. I can’t give myself to someone like I did with her” your voice trembles as you explain, her vision blurring with tears as you try your best to swallow them all back.

She licks her lips as she stares down at you before she shakes her head. “I get it….I get that you’re hurting from what happened, but I can’t keep going on without you knowing anymore….” She starts to explain, both of her hands coming up to cup either side of your face, forcing you to look up at her.

“I’ve….god I’ve longed for you from the moment you left after high school. There was not a day that went by where I did not think of you for even a few seconds. And I’m sorry for what happened, and I understand if I’m just a childhood fling for you, but I’d rather you tell me that then try to push someone else onto me to distract me from what I’ve felt all these years” she rambles on, nearly stumbling over her words as they all bubble up to the surface, overflowing and dragging you down with her.

You open your mouth for a moment before closing it, looking far too similar to a fish out of water as you try to find the words to say. What are you even supposed to say? Are you supposed to lie to her? Tell her that you haven’t felt the same way? But now it’s different and it hurts to even try to envision yourself in a relationship with someone let alone pursue them? Even when it’s Ellie?

Your Ellie?

She watches as you struggle to speak, her eyes searching yours for even a sliver of hope that this will work, that her confession will bring you to a point where you can both meet, where things can be okay again.

And if they can’t? She needs to hear you say it out loud.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same” she deadpans, hands dropping from your face as any hope she might have had slowly drains out, fizzling out of her system as she watches you simply stare up at her, a mere shell of the girl she once knew.

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll never bring this up again. We can move on from this and we can be friends. I promise” she breaths out, feeling the air slowly leaving her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

You feel the exact same way. You feel like the world has stopped around you both as images of your life swirls around your head.

There’s images of your ex wife, taking the privilege of love from you, ripping your heart out of your chest and walking away with it the moment she decided to cheat on you. It hurts, and it burns and it feels like something you’ll never recover from, something that leaves a wound so deep, that it will never grow the familiar leathery skin that it’s supposed to, creating a scar that acts as merely a memory for what happened, for what you endured.

And then there’s something sweeter in the corner, so small that if you pay enough attention to the hurt in your heart, you don’t even notice it.

It’s memories of Ellie. Sharing your first kiss with her, going to prom with her, spending late nights with her in your bedroom talking about the future, spending time with one another that will leave sweet memories in your mind till the day you die. It’s soft, and it’s easy and it makes your insides flutter with excitement at the mere thought of her by your side.

As you’re looking over all these parts of you, standing in your kitchen with Ellie and staring up into her eyes, you make a remarkable discovery.

You realize that if you try hard enough, the pain that comes from what your ex wife did doesn’t hurt as bad, long as you’re focusing on the feeling that Ellie gives you.

Because when you’re with Ellie, you feel nothing but love.

You lick your own lips as you stare up at her, inhaling deeply before you shake your head, feeling your throat burn with tears before you speak.

“I can’t do that….” Your words trail off for a moment before your eyes drift down to her strong hands, missing the feeling of her skin pressed against yours.

You slowly reach forward to take her tattooed hand into yours, your fingers dancing along the intricate details of the leaves on her wrist before you interlock your fingers, finally looking up at her as your eyes well up with tears for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Because I….feel the same way” you breath out, watching as her sage colored eyes glimmer with happiness, a gentle sigh of relief leaving her lips as she quickly moves her hand to cup your face, her other reaching down to hold onto your waist, pulling you close to her body.

“Jesus…c’mere” she practically moans out before she smashes her lips against yours in a passionate, love filled kiss.

You giggle softly, your hands wrapping around her wrist as you waste no time in kissing her back, arms coming up to loosely wrap around her neck as you press your chest against hers, reveling in the feeling of her lips pressed against your own.

You hummed a gentle tune to yourself as you mixed up the pitcher of lemonade, far too deep in thought to pay the bustling party behind you any mind.

One of your favorite parts about the summer time was the cookouts. There was something about nearly the entire town coming together at someone’s house, enjoying the warm weather, the bright sun and good food, that made your heart burst with excitement.

You were just about ready to make your way to your backyard with the others, when you felt a firm hand sliding against your waist, smoothing down over the fabric of your flower sun dress and pulling you into their chest.

“Don’t you think we have enough drinks baby?” Ellie hums out softly, pressing her lips against the base of your neck, making you giggle softly as you lean into her.

“It’s almost 100 degrees outside, Ellie…I don’t think too many things to drink is even a possibility” you explain before you turn around in her arms, smiling softly at the firm as you wrap your arms around her neck, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the grill? You better not burn all that food I bought” you playfully pinch her shoulder, which only makes her groan softly.

“It’s too hotttt….wanna be inside with you” she whines out, resting her head against your shoulder as she gently sways with you in the kitchen.

You hum as you nod, your fingers toying with the short hair at the nape of her neck. “I know baby….but your father will be very upset if he doesn’t have at least one beer with you…come on pretty girl” you hum out to her softly, your hands sliding down to hold her around her middle before giving her a gentle pinch near her ribs, which makes her yelp out as she pulls away, a prominent pout on her sun burnt, freckled face.

“Fine…but come out with me” she huffs out, leaning in to give your forehead a kiss before she makes her way outside, making you giggle softly.

You sigh softly to yourself, placing the lemonade on a small tray paired with some already filled red solo cups, and a few empty ones on the side that you knew would be getting filled up shortly after you brought them out. You had to move slowly with how full they were, groaning softly to yourself as you tried your best to not let them fall as you tried making your way through the crowd of people in your home.

“Oh honey let me help you with that!” You hear Lilac chirp out as she quickly comes behind you, pressing her hands against your waist before taking the heavy pitcher off of the tray, making you sigh in relief once you saw the girl.

“There you are! I was starting to think you wouldn’t show…” you pout out, smiling softly as the girl leaned in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, which you were quick to lean into as well.

She giggled softly as she groaned. “Did you know that this party of yours is causin’ traffic out there?? Everyone’s dying to come, I almost ran out with the rollers still in my hair” she explains, making you giggle softly as she opened up your back door for you.

After everything happened with you and Ellie, you were terrified of what would happen with Lilac. You felt like you’d robbed the girl of something she wanted without even trying, even after being the one to tell her to go for it! Even after Ellie assured you time and time again that Lilac was always one to get innocent crushes on everyone, and that she’d get over it in no time, you were still scared that you’d lose the girl as a friend after just making her one.

You were quickly proven wrong when you met her in town a few days after, texting her and letting her know you had something to tell her. Instead of her being upset about you and Ellie, Lilac was thrilled. She grabbed you and hugged you, and told you that she even wanted to celebrate with you and Ellie, explaining that her crush was as innocent as could be.

And before you could even realize, Lilac had become your best friend.

You giggle softly as the children practically jumped you once they saw the tall pitcher of ice cold lemonade, frantically grabbing the cups and chugging them down before running off to play in the sun.

Catching sight of Ellie with her father and a few of her coworkers makes your heart flutter, and you decide to fill up a few more cups of the cold drink as you make your way over to them, a soft smile on your face.

“Lemonade anyone?” You chirp out softly, all of them taking them gladly before Ellie slung her arm around your waist, pulling you into her side as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head, carrying on with her conversation.

You don’t miss the way Joel smiles fondly at the two of you over the edge of his cup.

And later that night, when everyone’s left and the house is cleaned up, you lay with Ellie in your bed, the cool breeze blowing in through your windows, your bedroom illuminated by the white light of the moon.

You’re tucked away into Ellie’s side, your thigh hooked over her body, one of her hands rubbing along your skin and massaging your leg, the other looped around your shoulder as you stare up at her lovingly, your hand dancing along her t shirt clad chest.

“Did you have fun today?” You question softly, which earns a gentle smile from the girl before she looks down at you, giving you a slight nod.

“The best time baby….haven’t seen so many people gathered around for a party in a long time…you did good angel” she breaths out before she leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, which makes you smile warmly.

But the warmth doesn’t just settle in your cheeks.

A simple kiss from your girlfriend makes it travel down your body. It warms your throat, your chest, your stomach, traveling all the way down until it settles right in between your legs, making you clear your throat to bite back a whimper.

Ellie frowns softly when she notices this, pulling away to look down at you as she continues massaging your thigh. “Something wrong princess?” She questions, slight concern lacing her tone as she watches you with furrowed brows, her expression clear in the light of the moon.

When you and Ellie first started being romantic again, she promised you she’d take things slow. Your relationship only went far as kissing, a few gropes here and there, but nothing further than a steamy make out session that ended once Ellie tapped your thighs and forced you off of her lap, fearing that she was pushing you too far.

At first it was extremely considerate of her. It was true, intimacy was a bit hard for you at first, somehow thinking of your failed relationship every time you tried, blaming your self for not pleasing your wife enough.

But as time went on, those thoughts were virtually silenced. You didn’t even have the capacity to think of anything but Ellie when her tongue was down your throat, the feeling of her big hands on your body, and her toned thighs pressed between your legs.

So now…God…you needed her more than anything.

You were almost embarrassed to even say it, but it was getting to a point that anything Ellie did was setting you into a frenzy. Just today, her toned arms in here wife pleaser and her denim jeans made your head spin, and your panties cling to your needy core.

Her frown deepened when you didn’t answer, the girl turning over a bit to better face you before her hand came up to cup your cheek. “Baby? What’s the matter?” She questions once again.

You finally let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you reach up to grab her wrist gently, keeping her close as you avoid looking into her eyes.

“I….need you Ellie…need you so bad” you sigh out softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Her frown only deepens further as she stares at you down in confusion. “Need me? But angel I’m right-“ her words are cut off when she feels your grip on her wrist tighten, and your thigh hikes up her body further, pressing your core against her side.

Her eyes widen in realization.

“Fuck…” she breaths out, watches as your eyes flutter open to stare into her own, yours filled with want and need as your other hand moves down to hold onto her exposed hip gently.

“Are you sure baby? We can…fuck…we don’t have to…” she struggles to get out, eyes glued to yours as she watches you.

You shake your head before you gently pry her hand from your face, bringing her fingers down to press against your lips before you sigh. “I’ve thought about you every day since I’ve left Ellie…of course I’m sure…” you sigh out softly before you open your mouth, taking her pointer and middle finger into your mouth as you slowly suck them in, moaning around them.

Ellie lets out a soft moan as she watches you, feeling her own clit pulse against her underwear as she quickly grows warm with a need similar to yours.

“That’s my girl…fuck….been needy huh?” She moans out, making you nod before you roll over to straddle her, her other hand coming down to grip your hip softly, massaging your skin through the fabric of her own t shirt draped over your body.

You let go of her fingers with a pop before you stare down at her, a soft smile on your face as you move down to press your lips against hers, wasting no time in pushing your tongue into her mouth.

The kiss is slow, and sensual and dirty and it’s everything you’ve wanted and needed since your divorce. It’s nothing like kissing your ex wife, but it’s everything like kissing Ellie. The noises she makes has your head spinning, and it forces you to roll your hips down onto her, which makes her moan even louder into your mouth.

“Fuck…want you to…wanna feel your pussy on mine baby…can you do that for me?” She questions out desperately, her hands roaming your body, pushing her t shirt up on your to reveal your tits.

Ellie had it all planned out. She wanted it to be romantic, she wanted to take things slow and show you just how much she loved you, just how serious she was about you. She wanted you to feel loved.

Oh did her plans not go as planned, but oh how you felt so fucking loved.

You nod eagerly, sitting up and tugging the t shirt off, tossing it somewhere in your room. Ellie moans loudly at the sight of you above her, hands reaching up and cupping either one of your boobs, pinching and rolling your nipples between her fingers.

Once she’s had her fun, you climb off of her for a moment, tugging off her panties, giving her time to tug her sleep shorts off as well, leaving you naked and her bottom half bare. She’s feverishly tugging you back onto her lap, allowing you to tug her t shirt off.

And the feeling of your bare chest pressed against hers makes you moan loudly, your lips coming down again to press a needy kiss to hers, filled with tongue and teeth as you both situate yourselves.

The moment comes quickly, your legs slotted between hers perfectly, pussy right on top of hers as she stares up at you with low, hazy eyes, strong hands gripping your thighs and your ass as you slowly began rolling your hips so that your throbbing clit bumps against hers, making the girl beneath you moan loudly as her back arches and her eyes flutter shut.

“F-fuck! Oh my….fuuuuckkkk…that’s it baby…fuck yourself down onto my pussy…oh my….ha-fuck” she moans out, voice going hoarse as her strong fingers press firmly into your skin, sure to leave marks in the morning.

Your moans mix with hers, paired with the sound of your sopping wet pussies sliding against one another, a symphony of erotic love making that has been a long time coming. It’s like the two of you let out every raw emotion that had been bottled up for all those years you spent apart, her longing, your hurt, it all mixes together to create something of a beautiful love song that belongs to the two of you, and no one else.

“Ellieee…fuck! Feels…feels so good..” you moan out, picking up the pace as you feel your orgasm growing closer and closer by the second, your bed creaking with every thrust of your hips.

Ellie can’t take it anymore, moving to sit up as she grips both of your hips, aiding you in riding her pussy faster before she gives you an encouraging nod. “Come on baby…cum with me, yeah?” She sighs out breathlessly, staring up into your eyes passionately as she feels her own orgasm growing closer.

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, keeping her closer as you moan and whine, eyebrows furrowing with pleasure as you struggle to make it there, struggle to not let the pleasure get the best of you.

Your heart feels like it’ll just burst.

“I…mmm…fuck….Ellie I love you…I love you so much…” you moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you feel right on the brink of your orgasm.

“That’s my fucking girl…I love you so much baby…more than you’ll ever know…” she moans out to you.

And suddenly, you see colors.

Your chest feels like you’ve been struck by lightening, struggling to even stay upright as your orgasm ripples through your body violently, your forehead resting against Ellie’s as your arousal mixes with hers, both of your orgasms so intense, so powerful, it feels like it’ll kill you both right then and there.

The come down is hard, because it’s almost sorrowful to no longer feel the amazing feeling that comes with making love to Ellie, but the feeling of her strong arms wrapping around your middle and keeping you close is almost better, her lips pressing against your collar bones and chest as you both breath hard, the room silent compared to the noise that once filled it.

She holds you there the entire time, whispering how much she loves you, promising you that she’ll give you everything you could ever want and need.

And while you’ve heard all of that before, just for it to end in shit….

You believe her, because this time? It’ll be different.

[greengoblinswifey]

Mended Hearts—Hwang Jun ho x Fem!Reader

summary— Jun-ho's relentless pursuit of finding the island has strained your relationship, leaving you feeling neglected and unseen. After weeks of distance and dismissiveness, you confront him, your frustrations spilling over into a heated argument that ends with apologies and comfort ;) Based on this request.

warnings— angst, arguing, fluff, praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

a/n— never thought i’d be writing for jun-ho but here i am, a woman of and for the people🙏🏽

It had been weeks since Jun-ho had truly looked at you. His focus had shifted entirely to uncovering the secrets of some stupid island, the one tied to the Squid Game, the one that consumed him. The man who had once wrapped his arms around you with love, who smiled at you like you were his safe place, now felt like a stranger. His tone was sharp, his responses were sparse, and the long nights he used to spend with you were now filled with files, maps, obsession and out on a boat.

You stood at the doorway to the dimly lit apartment, watching him at his desk. His back was to you as he flipped through papers and typed furiously on his laptop. The glow from the screen outlined his profile, making the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent.

“Jun-ho,” you called softly, hoping to break through the barrier he’d built around himself.

“What?” he muttered without turning around.

You sighed, stepping closer. “Can we talk? Please?”

“Not now,” he said flatly.

That was the last straw. Weeks of neglect and coldness boiled to the surface, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. There was no way you’d continue to let shit slide.

“No, Jun-ho. Not later, not when you’re done, not tomorrow. Now,” you snapped, your voice shaking with frustration.

His hands froze on the keyboard, and he finally turned to look at you. “I said I’m busy, can’t you see that?”

“Busy? You’ve been busy for weeks! What about me, Jun-ho? What about us?” you shot back, tears threatening to spill. “You barely talk to me, you barely look at me, do you even care anymore?”

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “Of course I care! But I’m trying to do something important here. Do you think this is easy for me? Trying to find the truth about that damned island while keeping myself alive?”

“And what about me? I’m here, alive, and you’re pushing me away!” Your voice cracked as the words poured out. “I know this is important to you, but you’ve made me feel like I don’t matter. Like I’m just—here. Waiting for scraps of your attention.”

Jun-ho’s jaw clenched. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bubbling over. “You don’t understand! This isn’t about you, it’s bigger than you, bigger than us! People have died, and if I don’t—”

“I get that!” you yelled, cutting him off. “But do you even realize how much you’re losing in the process? You’re not just fighting for justice, Jun-ho, you’re throwing away everything else, us included!”

His next words came out sharper than he intended. “Maybe I don’t have time to be what you need right now! Is that what you want to hear?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Your face fell, and the sight hit him like a punch to the gut. He had crossed a line.

Your voice was small when you spoke again. “Y-you don’t mean that.”

His chest tightened as he saw the tears streaming down your face. He immediately stepped closer, his tone softening. “No, no, I don’t. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. “Do you even want me here, Jun-ho? Because if you don’t, just say that.”

His hands reached for yours, and this time, you didn’t pull away. “Don’t say that,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “Of course I want you here. I just—I’m scared. Scared that I’ll fail. That I’ll lose everything, including you.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I’m here for you, but I can’t keep feeling like I’m invisible.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, as if it could undo the weeks of pain he’d caused. “You’re right. I’ve been shutting you out, and that’s not fair to you. I’ll do better. I promise.”

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in his warmth, feeling the walls between you crumble.

Later, when you were both lying in bed after Jun-ho had dropped everything to spend time with you, he kissed you softly, his touch filled with the tenderness you had missed. “I don’t deserve someone like you,” he murmured.

“Don’t say that,” you replied, running your fingers through his dark hair. “You need to remember that I’m here for you, always.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he said quietly.

The tension between you and Jun-ho had been simmering for weeks, unspoken feelings and bottled up frustrations pressing against the walls of your shared space. But now, as his lips moved against yours in a kiss that was equal parts apology and longing, everything else seemed to fade away.

You straddled his lap, your hands threading through his hair as the kiss deepened. His fingers gripped your waist, steadying you as you pressed yourself closer, feeling the hardness beneath you. You pulled back slightly, your breath hitching as you met his gaze.

“Jun-ho,” you whispered, sliding your hands down to the hem of your top. Slowly, you pulled it over your head, revealing your bare chest.

His eyes were lust filled as they roamed over you, his lips parting slightly. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands running up your sides. “I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without touching you.”

“It’s been weeks,” you replied, your voice tinged with need.

“I know,” he said in a regretful tone. “I don’t know how I lasted this long.”

Your hands trailed down to the waistband of his pants, your touch light and teasing. “I need you,” you said, your voice low.

Something in him snapped. In a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his body pressing against yours as his lips found your neck. He kissed a wet trail down your collarbone, each touch slow, as if he were trying to make up for lost time.

He paused at your waist, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt and panties. He glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours. “Do you want this?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed. “It’s been too long.”

That was all he needed to hear. He slid your bottoms down and off and his hands settled on your thighs, spreading them slightly as he lowered himself.

“You’re perfect, baby,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. “And I’m going to make sure you know that.”

He kissed your clit, his tongue and lips moving with precision and need. Each flick of his tongue sent shivers through your body, your hands tangling in his hair as your back arched off the bed. He was practically devouring you, relishing in the moment that had been building up.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, his breath warm against your pussy.

You couldn’t hold back the moans escaping your lips, your body trembling as he sucked on your clit like he had a point to prove. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, keeping you grounded even as you felt like you were unraveling.

“Baby,” you gasped, your fingers tugging gently at his hair.

He looked up at you briefly, his lips glistening, a small, satisfied smirk on his face. “That’s it, love. Cum for me.”

And when you finally did, shaking and breathless, he didn’t stop until you were completely spent, your body melting into the mattress. He kissed his way back up your body, his lips lingering on your skin before he met your gaze again.

“Missed this,” he whispered, brushing a strand of your curls from your face.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice still unsteady.

In that moment, it was just you and him—no islands, no missions, no distance. Just the love that had always been there, waiting to be rediscovered.

Jun-ho's lips lingered on your skin, trailing from your jaw to your collarbone before moving lower, his kisses growing hungrier by the second. His hands roamed your body, desperate, like he was making up for every moment he had kept himself from you.

As his mouth closed over your tits, sucking gently, his fingers worked at the waistband of his own pants, sliding them off in one swift motion. He pressed against your thigh, his hardness obvious. He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged as he cupped your cheek, searching your gaze.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked softly. “We don’t have to. We can just cuddle. I’ll wait if you need me to.”

You reached up, holding his jaw firmly but gently, making sure he looked directly at you. “Jun-ho,” you said, your voice low, “I’ve been deprived for weeks. Fuck me like you mean it.”

His eyes darkened, his control snapping in an instant. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he growled before capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

He moved with a new intensity, his hands gripping your hips as he aligned his hard cock with your entrance.Slowly, he pressed forward, his forehead dropping to yours as he let out a low moan. “You feel incredible. So wet for me,” he murmured.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he started to move, his thrusts rough but full of love. “God, you’re everything I need,” he breathed, his hands running over your sides, gripping your waist like he was afraid to let you go.

“You’re amazing,” you gasped, your back arching into him. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so caught up, but you—God, you’re all I need.”

His pace quickened, his strokes growing more desperate as your moans filled the room. “You’re everything to me,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll never make you feel like you’re not enough again. I swear.”

The two of you moved together, your bodies perfectly in sync as you met his thrusts with grinding, the friction making your clit throb. The tension between you built until it became unbearable. “Cum for me,” he whispered. “Let me feel you soak my cock.”

You shattered beneath him, his name tumbling from your lips as he followed soon after, his entire body trembling as he held you close. He stayed buried in you for a moment, his forehead pressed to yours as you both caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured again, kissing your temple. “You deserve better from me, and I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Thank you,” you replied softly, your fingers brushing through his hair.

He carefully pulled out of you and reached for the blanket, wrapping it around both of you as he pulled you into his chest. His hand rubbing your back, his touch soothing.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you too,” you whispered, nuzzling into him.

As you drifted off in his arms, you felt his words and the way he held you like you were his entire world, a silent promise that he wouldn’t take you for granted again.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt like you had him back—the Jun-ho who loved you with everything he had.

[archangeldyke-all]

I got sevika blue screening after being called my butch on the mind rn. especially if it was said casually. I think it's one of those things that never fails to make her secretly swoon after the first time

GODDDDDD FSDG

men and minors dni

sevika's never really liked the term 'girlfriend.'

it's not that she doesn't want to be in an established relationship-- especially since she's met you-- it's just... such a strange term for her.

she's not a girl-- she's a woman. there's nothing particularly girly about her. sevika's much more comfortable being more masculine, and she loves being able to be a gentlewoman.

in more mundane ways-- holding the doors open for you, offering up her bus seat when a pregnant person or old man shuffles on, subtly flexing when you hold her arm on your walks home at night-- and in bigger ways too.

sevika's butch. she takes pride in that title. and if that means she needs to fight some assholes who don't know the meaning of the word 'no'-- so be it.

so, this is all to say, the first time you introduce sevika to your friends, she's just a little hesitant to have to hear herself described in such a strange way. she'd prefer 'wife', in all honesty, but she's trying to take things slow with you, and 'partner' sounds like you guys work together.

but then, you spot your friends at a table, smiling and tugging sevika to the back of the resturant with a hand on her bicep.

"hi!" you squeal, greeting your friends with hugs and kisses. sevika watches with a gentle smile as you all greet each other. "okay, everyone, this is my butch, sevika." you introduce her with a happy little gesture in her direction.

sevika freezes, processing your words, a smile slowly growing on her face. all your friends wave and welcome her happily to the table, but she only has eyes for you, her heartbeat thudding in her chest as she studies you.

you notice-- or you must just know her really well-- because it's how you introduce her from that moment on... up until she proposes for you.

then for a while then, she's introduced as your fiance which she loves-- but she misses being called your butch so much.

so the first time she hears you refer to her as your husbutch? she just about tackles you the ground as she tries to smother you in kisses.

you're on the phone with your friend or something, just catching up, and sevika's not even meant to overhear it or anything, she just happens to pass the kitchen as you say it. "...so then i'm gonna take my husbutch to the markets, see if i can convince her to haul home some-ah!" you squeal as you're tackled to the floor. "sevika!"

"i love you so fucking much. let's get married again. i don't care if it's tacky."

"i'm on the phone!" you giggle.

"shit, sorry." she scrambles to get the phone for you, pressing it into your hand gently. "i just love you." she kisses you one last time, her tongue just barely brushing your lips, making you just a little dizzy before she pulls away and winks at you.

it takes your friend three tries to get your attention again.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes

[kissyrafe]

waking up on christmas morning with rafe

cw: nothing, just fluff!! (not proofread!!!)

notes: merry christmas 'n happy holidays everybody ˊᗜˋ

december 25th, the perfect morning— candles, blankets, snow, and rafe. the smell of smoked oak wood along with vanilla covered the room with its light scent, waking you up with a gentle kiss to your nose. you and your boyfriend were huddled up under the soft woven blankets, entangled in each other. you opened your eyes with a smile on your face, christmas. the best time of the year. you peered out the window from where you lay, only to see white specks sprinkling down onto the outer bank's ground, and your smile grew even bigger. snow! this was exciting, to say the least. from all your years living on taneyhill, never have you seen snow. it's a rare occurrence down in north carolina, so why not wake your dashing boyfriend up to watch the snow fall?

he slept soundly with his head propped onto your chest, which he claims is "softer than any pillow". you smiled, lacing your fingers in between his hair, shaking his head lightly. "rafe!" you whispered, as if to not wake him up. you heard small groans and light vibrations against you, "hmm...?" rafe hummed into you, his hands traveling to your sides to pull you in closer if that was even possible. "it's snowing outside," you nudged to rafe, making his eyes open, "on christmas morning!" you politely squealed. when he too saw the snowflakes sprinkle, a smile then grew.

you both admired the weather from the comfort of your bed, fire crackling in the distance. as rafe snuggled into you, he spoke in a soft tone "wanna go open presents?"

it was like you two were kids again, opening the presents next to the fire, aching with eagerness to see what you get on the magical holiday. you jumped up and down, holding the shoe box in your arms and you repeated the words "thank you" a billion times over. "i've been wanting these uggs for so long rafe!" you smiled from ear to ear as he took your picture next to the christmas tree full of presents on the digital camera. "merry christmas, baby." a grin plastered on his face.

as you went through the rest of the gifts he gave you, they only got sweeter; such as a tiffany bracelet with individual charms that reminded him of you, or the pink burr basket filled with all the small essentials you've been needing to restock on, plus the billions of snacks, obviously.

when it came to rafe's turn to open your gifts, he picked the smallest one first. behind the camera, you still had that smile on your face, seemingly more excited than him. "i think you'll love it rafey," he unraveled the gift gently, as to not harm whatever was inside. he was met with a gold oval locket with a cross engraved on it. and in the locket, was a picture of the two of you smiling together. that picture wasn't taken on any special day, but it highlighted one of your personal favorite moments together. "it's perfect." he looked up into your eyes, trying to hide his huge grin.

"put it on so i can take the picture!" you said, voice laced with joy. rafe carefully put the gold necklace on, opening his arms right after so you could join him in the picture, encapsulating the memory. you ran into his arms, and he kissed your cheek as you beamed, clicking the camera.

after opening the rest of the presents, you two made waffles, decorating them with strawberries, blueberries, and whipped cream to look like santa claus. "i think mine is definitely better," rafe remarked as you took a picture of the two of your plates side by side. "yours looks like a three-year-old made it." you joked, rolling your eyes. "now come on, let's go watch the best christmas movie ever!!!"

you two laid with each other on the couch, blankets and stuffed animals everywhere, biting the warm waffles and sippin' hot chocolate as the movie played on the large screen. "ya know, home alone isn't really a christmas movie. people only think that 'cuz it's set on christmas day. and it's not the best holiday film." your boyfriend interrupted. you gasped, hitting rafe's arm "don't ever disrespect home alone!" you took another bite of your strawberry, "'n it's the best movie because i say it's the best movie."

"whatever you say, princess. merry christmas."

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Thinking about the progression of Katsuki letting you pet his hair (he’s also deaf in this bc I said so). Also season 6 spoilers lol

The first time you do it is during the designated movie night Class 1-A had every month during the weekend. Soft fleeces, pillows and sleeping bags litter the common room floor as everyone nestled in to start the movies. It was sacred tradition; a huge marathon of previously voted movies streamed one after another until everyone was asleep, or if the marathon ends early.

(Aizawa couldn’t be bothered to lecture the class anymore; as long as caramel popcorn didn’t get stuck in the rugs of the common room, you could all stay up for a solid week for all he cared).

You and the Bakusquad were lucky to snag one of the bigger couches, comfortable sitting you, Mina, Kirishima and Sero. Denki whined and pouted at first, before grinning at the realisation that he would be sat between your legs.

You and Mina both rolled your eyes, knowing that for all Denki was a hormonal teenage boy, he was harmless. Kirishima had even convinced Bakugou to join you somehow (under the promise that he wouldn’t bother him again).

“Tch, ain’t no way in hell you’re sittin’ there, sparky. Move your ass ya fuckin’ pervert,” he demanded, pulling Denki out of his euphoria. Denki whined, mumbling about how it was so unfair.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, before setting himself down. He would way rather have sat on the actual couch itself, but his head was pounding from training today and he could not be bothered to argue. You shimmied slightly closer to the arm of the couch so he would have more head room, which didn’t go unnoticed.

The lights in the room dimmed, snacks were distributed and drinks were poured. The dramatic sting of the opening credits filled the room as you and Mina giggled in excitement.

Katsuki’s head was absolutely killing him. The shitty combination of his classmates twittering, stupid jokes and shitty jumpscares made the pain in his head borderline unbearable. He was just about to get up and go when he felt a hand softly nestle into his fluffy locks.

Out of instinct, his warm palms wrapped tightly around the perpetrator’s, earning him a squeak. His head snapped in the general direction, only to be met with your widened eyes.

“Sorry Bakugou. There was a spider in your hair,” you whispered in his ear, showing him the tiny arachnid that was creeping along your hand. Katsuki rolled his eyes and released your hand.

“Whatever, just don’t touch me again, you weirdo,” he grumbled. He rested his head against the space between your and Mina’s legs and continued to watch the movie.

The next movie day was quite similar. You all arranged yourselves in a similar way, with you and Mina sat on the couch and Bakugou nestled between the two of you.

His head was absolutely pounding after training, but he owed Kirishima and he’d rather die than be indebted to him. The movie played as he rested his head on the plush couch, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. His hearing aids had been a total pain in his ass, and hearing was just too much for him.

He took them out, snapping them away in his case as he squints at the screen and lip-reads. You took notice immediately, gently tapping his shoulder and signing to him if he was okay. He blinked at you before huffing.

Yeah, I’m fine. Head hurts is all, and having a hearing break, he signed. You let out a silent “ohhh”. You thought for a minute before signing again.

I can give you a head massage if you like? My quirk allows me to heal through touching.

Katsuki’s eyes shot open before grunting and looking away. You took that as a no, before he nudged your shoulder.

Discretely. Do not let ANYONE see or I’ll kill you, he signed aggressively. You smiled as you started at the base of his scalp, your quirk heating up ever so slightly as you gently twirled his baby hairs.

Katsuki let out a slow breath as his migraine started to lift, and if he focused for a second; the ringing in his ears started to quiet. Your hands worked magic into his scalp, softly scrunching the dandelion fluff. Shivers ran down his spine as you thumbed the sensitive skin near his ears.

It took 20 minutes for him to feel completely rejuvenated, taking your hand off his head with a blushy grunt.

Thanks, or whatever, he signed, looking away. You gave him a small smile, ruffling his hair as he swatted you.

No problem, blasty.

“Where the fuck is he?! TELL ME WHERE HE IS, RIGHT NOW!” You demanded, the poor doctor hiding behind their clipboard as she waits for you to calm down.

“He’s right in here, but please be careful with him. He’s stable, but any… intense… emotions can throw that right out of whack,” she said calmly, opening the door and closing it behind you.

Katsuki was laid in bed, propped up by pillows as an oxygen mask aided his laboured breathing. His beautiful face was scratched to hell and back, and his upper torso was covered in bloodied bandages.

You let out a stifled sob, hands covering your mouth upon seeing your classmate. The two of you had grown closer during the movie nights; your hands would end up tangled in his hair as he slumped against you sleepily, slow but hot breaths against your leg.

You would kill Shigaraki for doing this, if it was the last thing you would do. Your head rested against the bed rails as you cried, not knowing if your crush would ever wake up.

“H-handsy? Wh’ the mphuck happened?” Katsuki murmured out. Red eyes cracked open slightly as he focused on you, before they shot open completely.

“Deku!” He exclaimed, trying to rip the oxygen mask off and trying to race to his feet. You exclaimed loudly, trying to get him to calm down. You ended up sitting on him, pressing his shoulders back into the bed as you looked at each other wildly.

“Y-you’re alive…” you let out a slow sob as you lowered your head. Katsuki stared at you, before his calloused hands caressed your cheeks. Your eyes shot open, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

It was like he was seeing you clearly for the first time in ages, all worries slowly melting away as your hands bunched into his scrubs. You let go of his clothes as you started to shakily sign.

Shigaraki impaled you after you pushed Deku away. He’s totally fine, a bit roughed up but he’s being treated in another room. Your organs were pierced, and you’re gonna be sore for a while but you’ll get better soon, you sign. Katsuki nodded, still tracing your cheeks.

He let go of you as he signed back.

Are you okay? Did Shigaraki get you? You were there with us, and I blacked out before I could find you.

You shook your head.

No, I’m fine. I had a concussion and a busted leg, but Recovery Girl fixed me up almost right away. Does your head hurt? How do you feel?

Katsuki thought for a second.

My head hurts a little, and my gut hurts like fuck. Shigaraki fucking ripped my hearing aid out too so my ears are ringing.

You paused as you looked at him. You got off him quickly, signing to him that you were going to find a nurse, stopping when you felt him grasp your wrist.

Can you interpret for me? I’m a bit out of it and my head hurts too much for me to lip-read, he signed, looking… worried?

You smiled to him and nodded, promising that you wouldn’t leave him.

Nurses came and went as you signed to him what they were saying, as well as explaining how they were going to monitor him. He, of course, demanded you tell them that he’s fine to go home. You shook your head, smiling slightly as you tell them that he isn’t the biggest fan of hospitals, making him flip the bird at you.

The doctors gave him some antibiotics as he laid grumpily in bed, waiting for them to kick in. They left, reminding you of visiting times and when you would have to leave. You thanked them on behalf of you both, bowing before looking back to your crush.

He was sat pouting, tugging on the wires and tubes gently. Since he was more lucid, his usual moody temperament was back. You sat on the foot of the bed, tugging the blanket to get his attention.

Are you tired? I can leave you alone if you want. I know the others are probably going to demand to see you soon too, so you might want to rest up, you signed. Katsuki tutted, before a thought crossed his mind.

No, I’m not tired. Those extras can wait too. My head hurts still, so get over here and use your quirk, he signed aggressively, a stark contrast to the pink creeping up on his cheeks.

Oh, I’ll call the nurse- you start signing before Katsuki lets out an aggravated grunt.

No, dumbass. My HEAD HURTS, come USE YOUR QUIRK, he made his hand movements larger to emphasise. You stop, letting out an ohhhhh.

A cheeky grin swamped your face as your cheeks warmed. Katsuki huffed and looked away, calloused fingers playing with the hospital sheets. You shyly made your way next to him, him shifting away to give you room.

Are you comfortable? You sign. Katsuki nods, wrapping his arm gingerly around your waist. Your arms snaked around his shoulders, pushing his head into your neck. Gentle hands pulled debris out of his fluffy locks, content in hearing Katsuki’s relieved huffs of breath.

“…ne.”

“Did… did you say something, Bakugou?” You turn to look at him. His cheeks were splashed a delicate rosy pink.

“Be mine, damnit!” His voice was gruff with disuse as he peers into your eyes. Your own orbs couldn’t help the leaks, reaching down and pressing your lips to his.

The next movie night rolled around, Katsuki was proud to show you off as his partner. PDA was a tricky concept for him, after almost being scared off when his parents found you both asleep and cuddled tightly together well after visiting hours.

He had no qualms shouting praises to you during training, or threatening the life of creepy guys who can’t stop staring. So his favourite time where he can absorb your love in public lies in the tradition of movie nights.

Katsuki had his hearing aids out again, simply opting to sit in silence. He was sat between your legs, head resting against your tummy as he was occasionally shifted by your quiet laughs. He paid no mind though; so calm and quiet that he was ready to fall asleep.

Then your magic hands came out. You knew all of his sweet spots; the delicate scarring near the tips of his ears, the wispy baby hairs near the bottom of his neck, and the sensitive spot in the crown of his scalp always sent a shiver down his spine. He reminded you of a kitten, and when he lets out the occasional sigh, you imagine he’s purring instead.

With the soft kisses pressed against your thighs, just the two of you together and your hand in his hair,

he’s never felt more loved.

[robolvrr]

private show ੈ ♡˳

galaxy girl. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　

swerve x fem! camgirl warnings: nsfw. mutual masturbation.

one.

tossing this thing, far, far away from the lost light wasn't sounding like that bad of an idea.

really. he even had the nerve to fumble through an lie, assuring the now ragtag bunch of contraband-loving thieves having witnessed the magic on it that it wouldn't be a worry. he had it.

besides, rodimus badges were on the rise and whether any of them liked to admit it, it would be nice to earn one. not that swerve has. yet.

this kind of secret if found out? would land them all in magnus levels of trouble.

.. so why is swerve here? locked up in his habsuite, fist crunched between dentae and perspiration sweating down his helm? he asks himself these questions too late, which is a bittersweet epiphany, because by the time he does self reflect its usually long past knee-deep in scrap.

this is all kinds of wrong. he's all kinds of messed up and this infatuation with earth and humans and pretty, pretty girls has gone too far because he isn't even one -

"shouldn't i be tellin' this to .. rung? rang?"

the mumble of course met with silence. that is, until the pitch black screen zaps to life, temporarily fading his crestfallen expression to a faint reflection on a light, persimmon backdrop. the backdrop being evidently your bedroom, which you decorated just for him he acknowledges.

right. he had it, alright. credits, that is, enough to get one more show.

a personal one where he didn't have to bump shoulders or awkwardly squeeze his legs together, swipe prompts away while arm to arm with fellow crewmates to unlock his interface panels.

before swerve can talk himself out of this stupid idea again, the dreamy call of his designation bursts from the speakers instead. starstruck, he panics. slams a digit in a flurry on the audio controls, wincing a moment with a mortified grunt.

thank the primes he's mute. he can only hope it wasn't loud enough to warrant an complaint from a neighboring bot.

"sweeeerve.. you there, sweetie? i know you said you were nervous."

nervous? him? oh, buddy if you only knew! he slowly shifts forward and you'd have wished his camera were on, because it'd have been so cute seeing how delicately he handles the dented laptop, worried lip slipping between metal teeth.

tap tap tap. it's so hard typing.

[ Lol. Just haven't done this before. ]

he isn't sure what to expect at first. you're propped up, comfortable atop your tower of pillows. satin hides most of your chest and torso, but a split towards the front with a crinkled hem suggest the lingerie you wear is meant to be opened. unraveled, like a present. skin glittering like those earth movies and their shiny vampires, nipples pebbled through tempting fabric.

you look like a princess. you look like a goddess.

"oh? i'm popping your cam cherry then, mm?"

it takes him a second to understand what you're saying. his face grows hotter. he actually has to fan himself with a vibrating servo - you're a tease, sheesh!

[ HAHAHAHahaha. I guess. ]

swerve wants nothing more than to slam his helm against the wall. please don't torture him like this. not before you even start.

as if your hear his agony, a giggle tickles his audials. you finger the soft opening of your nightwear, head tilted and lips pouted.

"alright, alright. i bet you're frustrated. but! i am a woman of my word."

frag, you're actually listening to him. a whiny part of him reminds that this is transactional and while it could shatter his confidence a tad, he's perplexed because you don't act like its just another job.

in fact, he's a little dizzy staring, watching you place both your hands near the wall behind you. then your legs are spreading, further and further and further, until he can see your glossy...

valve. cunt. pussy. the foreign words make his intake dry.

you're so fraggin' small. and he's bigger than you, way bigger, which isn't a feeling that graces his processors much. your small fingers, flirting with garters stuck tight at warm thighs. small mouth, huffing and panting while you work your.. you have a node?

it's so tiny. he has to squint to see it. blue visor hot enough to burn, his panel mechanisms move on their own embarrassingly fast, chubby spike ramrod at his torso.

"f. hah. hahhhhh, okay, uh.."

okay good, he's still on mute, to his relief. he doesn't even want to ex-vent because it might risk smothering your mildly, aggravated whine. you mewl. he laughs, in disbelief.

"y'know.. these kind of shows turn me on the most. cause if i can't see you, can't hear you.. i wanna make you overload more. drives me crazy."

engines revving, his strokes stutter upon hearing the terminology. must have known that too - are you a mind reader? - cause you smile, all-knowing.

"yeah. i wanna make you overload with me, swerve. would that make you feel less stressed out?"

[ Yes. Primusy es. ]

he doesn't bother correcting. instead he's fallen head over pedes watching you curl ring and middle deep inside, gagging on whines when you spread just enough to gape. he almost breaks when you whisper how you've never done it with a cybertronian, but you'd like to someday. that it was one of those fantasies none of your toys could even fulfill.

"d-don't think i could take you, hah. you bots are so big - fff - bet you you could show me a good time with just your hands."

swerve notes you like it, pressure, on that glossy nub, blunt of your palm grinding down hard. his jaw is tight as he jerks off in tandem, seeing the sticky juices gushing and wanting to shove his face right there. kissing, nonstop, until you spasm. the screen looks blurry. he's losing control.

"i'm so wet for you. do you like it?"

"are you kiddin'? c-course i do!" swerve almost chuckles again, right servo moving so fast its an sloppy mesh of squelches and rasps. keeling over, desperation paints his weakening demeanor. seeing you rise and fall chasing that high with him like an turbofox in heat is excruciatingly compelling.

"frag, frag, 'm so close baby, please, please-"

you smack your cunt. he lets out a quiet 'bwuh?' and shoulders sag seeing you squirm with a squeak. he could do that to you. he could be tender enough to do that too and he'd leave a sting that'd stay for days.

"so close, so c-close - i - shit - i'm gonna cum," what a surprise, to feel lubricant trickling down from near offlined optics, don't stop talking please, please, please - "swerve, you're gonna make me.. !"

white noise.

a dull, crackling hum fills his processors. he can't hear himself or you, the minibot crying while transfluid puddles, berth not cool enough to dampen the flames pulsing at his core. his charge is too much, knocking air he doesn't need straight from his chassis.

like dead to allspark, your dulcet whines drag him to the afterlife with cradling embrace.

by the time he's back online, his panels aren't closing nor can he lift himself, energon parched. he barely can see the text chat anymore as it is.

[ feel free to play with me again, swervey. you sound so sexy. ]

the screen is pitch black once more, taunting. to his horror, arousal floods his sensors, groan low.

damn it.

robolvrr 2025.

a/n: yeah so i'm actually insane. you're welcome. i'm just saying i'd give that bartender a ride he wouldn't survive. 　

[shiny-jr]

Get you a guy with thighs bigger than yours.

- Warning: Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: König.

- Summary: Thick thighs do not save lives.

- Note: This came about because I was just talking crazy in the dms with a mutual. I originally wasn't going to ever let this see the light of day, but then I decided, why the hell not? If I get smacked with delayed embarrassment, I'll just delete. Yeah, I know this isn't what I usually write and post, but oh well. Anyways, after this, we will be back to our regular scheduled content shortly. Oh, and sorry for minor mistakes, I wrote this like at midnight.

. . .

You decided to put a movie on. Just for a distraction. After about an hour into the movie, the leather couch got a bit uncomfortable since it stuck to your skin. So you slunk down to the floor, bringing a pillow or two down with you to use in case extra comfort was needed. The movie was beginning to lose your attention, but you still watched the screen attentively as if you were still focused on the film's plot.

What ended up catching your attention, was the slight shifting couch. Well, slight probably wasn't the correct word, as the movement was anything but light. It was safe to assume the shifting was from a guy who was well over 200 Ibs and a few inches short of 7 ft, although you didn't know the exact numbers because you never wanted to ask König outright.

It was easier to hear the movement, as the large figure scoot a few inches over. Instead of sitting beside you like he was a few seconds earlier, he had not so discreetly moved to take your vacant spot and sit directly behind you. He tried to stay quiet, he really did, but it wasn't so easy for him given his size. At the very least, he treaded carefully, not bumping your back once with his legs or accidentally knocking the back of your skull with his kneecaps.

You didn't move, but your eyes slowly glanced downward, where you could see the tip of his boots. Custom made, as most department stores didn't carry anything in his size. Most articles of clothing he had were custom-made or bought in special stores, save for that odd black diy mask he often wore over his head like a hood to hide himself from the world. Too afraid to lean back and accidentally make contact and disturb this fragile peace, you remain still despite the slight ache in your lower back that make you want to lean back and stretch. But you don't. All you could do was try to revert your attention back to the movie and not think any unholy thoughts, that is, until you heard more movement.

To not bump his knees against you, Konig spread his legs a bit and leaned down. The edges of his homemade cloth mask brushed against your back as you stiffened up, and you could make out the shape of his head beside yours as he whispered, "Do you, uh, want some...?"

Yes. "What???"

"Popcorn? Do you want some popcorn...??"

Oh.

After deciding whether or not you'd accept his offer, silence ensued, only fueled by the movie playing on the television. You weren't gonna lie, you have no idea what the hell was going on in the story anymore. A solid minute passed when he spoke again, sounding just as unsure as the first time. He spoke, as if whatever thoughts he had on his mind earlier where left to simmer for long enough.

"Scheiße. Sorry, should I have not moved here...? You can still lean back if you want?"

"Oh, okay... I, um, I'll do that."

Your back was starting to ache a little from sitting up without support, so, feeling just as awkward as he was feeling, you leaned your back against the couch. Instantly, as soon as you did that, your peripheral vision was covered by his knees and part of his legs. The movie was pretty much pointless now, as you were currently wondering whether you should thank whatever gods existed or curse them for the fact that König did not have shorts on. Even without shorts and with specially fitted cargo pants, they could not conceal the insane bulk of his legs. Especially his thighs. Good lord. The two pillows you brought down before from the couch were essentially useless now because on each side of your head were his limbs that rivaled the best of My Pillow.

Think of something else, anything else, is what you tried to tell yourself.

That idea would go out the window as soon as you felt something in your hair. Carefully twisting a few strands, you felt some thick and calloused fingers gently try and feel the texture of your hair. But it lasted only for a brief second, as he immediately pulled his hands away and murmured a tiny bit louder from his whisper earlier, "Ah, sorry, I should've asked first. I should not have done that. I am sorry––"

"It's okay, I... don't mind." You shrugged it off, and much to your surprise and contentment, he continued.

The first few seconds had a bit more hesitancy, but as time ticked by, seconds turned to minutes, his boldness increased. It started with his large hands carefully feeling the texture of your hair, then it became slow brush strokes as his thick fingers ever-so-carefully untangled knots in your stands of hair. Until eventually it escalated, and he gathered the courage to do something so bold as to scratch your skull. He could easily take your entire face in one hand and crush your skull, but he didn't. There was no sign of any such roughness. Instead, his fingers and nails continued to comb through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. At first when he did this, he paused, and waited for any objections or signals of a negative reaction, but after no such thing, he continued and seemed pleased.

It was after about five-minutes and heavy mental debating in your mind that you decided to suck it up and go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Honestly, you didn't even expect to make it this far.

So, after taking in a breath, you let your head fall to the side. It wasn't like those romantic scenes where you watch the character lean their head against a love interest's shoulder. Oh no, you were skipping that part, your ear landed right on his thigh. Which was probably due to the cushion you placed underneath you on the floor that elevated you a few extra inches, or else you might've missed. In that moment, right as the side of your head landed on its intended target, you felt him freeze. His fingers stopping, nails still on your scalp. A second passed, then two, then three, like time froze.

You were almost tempted to pry yourself off and apologize, but you really didn't want to. But you had to ask. "Is this alright...?"

"J-Ja... I mean, yes..."

Your eyes widened, and you were sure you had on some goofy kinda grin but at least you weren't facing him so he couldn't tell. Once you heard his response, your shoulders slumped, relieved of tension you didn't even know you were carrying.

Even with your head against his thigh that wasn't plush but was still definitely comfortable, you realize you were no better than a man as you resisted the urge to just reach out and squeeze his other thigh that had gotten closer without you even realizing it. You had to dig your nails into your knee to prevent yourself from acting on impulse.

It was definitely almost pure muscle from what you could tell with your head on one of them. Firm but somehow still soft. Thick thighs, in fact, do not save lives, because these thighs have ended who knows how many between them in finishing moves on the battlefield. Lucky bastards. Trying your luck agian, you place a shaky hand on his other thigh, but he didn't react. A good sign? Possibly?

Forget goth gfs and thick plush thighs, apparently giant anxious austrian soldiers with thighs as thick as tree trunks and strong enough to obliterate skulls like melons were the new fad.

Movie totally forgotten, your vision was entirely covered when König leaned down a bit from his spot on the couch and you tilted your head to look up and meet his gaze. The masked man stared at you, his blue eyes peering down at you through the two small slits cut into his mask for his eyes to see. His mask partially dangled, but not fully, so not revealing himself to you. When your gaze traveled away, abruptly his thighs got closer, squishing your cheeks and the sides of your face but not enough to hurt. Just a bit of pressure to get you to look up again.

Oh god.

There was literally no space between your face and his legs anymore, and your arms instinctively went to the outer side of his thighs to try and pry them apart a bit. You didn't try much, maybe because you enjoyed it or because you didn't exactly have strength strong enough to rival his, so all you could do was clutch the pockets of his cargo pants that were just above his knees, your nails digging in softly just to get a quick feel.

Once he saw he had your attention again after he applied a bit of pressure, he cocked his head to the side and continued to look down at you through half-lidded eyes darkened by the shadow of his hood. Then he spoke, but this time with no apprehension in his quiet tone.

"You do know I've ruined others that were in a similar position to what you are in right now?"

[ladyofthebookcase]

i need to yap about cultural nudity in nine sols NOW. context for new followers is that i watched kill la kill this summer and really enjoyed it and the commentary it made on nudity and the desexualization of the naked body. not sure how i want to structure this so i'll just kind of block it out based on the three main characters that are relevant to this. also when i say "the text" i mean the game of nine sols as a piece of media, like how english majors would refer to the book or movie they're studying. im not an english major but i could be.

goumang: my initial reaction to seeing her was to be like "huh she's not wearing any pants that's weird", followed by "well that's probably normal for solarians, they're cat people after all so it's probably less of a big deal in their culture" and then i just didn't care about it for like the rest of the game until i replayed it and got to her again and went "oh that's right, no one else has their pussy out like that. i guess that's just a goumang thing?" and, while i think it IS probably just a goumang thing to some extent (see the post about her being pussy out because of furgonomics basically/it's comfortable for her bird legs), an interesting thing to note here is yi's complete lack of reaction to it. goumang doesn't interact with any other characters in this outfit (the jiangshi don't count cus they can say like 2 words ok), and it could be argued that yi simply has bigger priorities/is not into women, but i do think it's notable nonetheless that literally zero acknowledgement is made to the fact that goumang is just walking around pussy out. not even non-diagetic elements interact with that at all; she's never censored in her manga cutscenes or posed in a way that either hides or exposes her. what this means is that her nudity isn't really treated like nudity. the text completely ignores it! now, we also know from a dev comment that solarians are matriarchal, which i think definitely ties into the different treatment of goumang and jiequan in this regard (i.e. why he's censored and she's not, from an in-world perspective, probably is similar to the way "women's" chests are censored in our world, although non-diagetically we know why he's censored lmao.)

jiequan: ok hmm. i'm no jiegolar, so i'm open to input on this one, but the element here i find significant is that jiequan is seen interacting with another person (aside from yi) while being naked. the fact that ji is hidden behind a screen is most likely just to obscure their identity (specifically his tall form) from the viewer, since they don't seem to have a problem also going around essentially pussy out the entire game; this is to say, it's not because jiequan is naked. i will say that the jiequan naked scenes have quite a different Vibe than the goumang and lady e scenes (no seriouesly why is that one cutscene so sexually charged help) but i think it's reasonable to chalk that up to 1) jiequan is a freak and 2) he's obsessed with yi so that changes the overall vibe of their interactions as opposed to, say, goumang. yeah i don't really know what i'm saying on this topic i don't have enough jiequan brainrot experience for this really. it does kind of give the vibe of like an emperor chilling in the nude in his palace and he's allowed to do that because he's the emperor though.

hm. yeah let's move onto something i've thought a bit more about.

lady ethereal: now THIS is really interesting to me for a few reasons, the first of which being that yeah, she's hot, and the game treats her as such! and yet at the same time it doesn't oversexualise her, or portray her as attractive at the expense of her personality. in fact, once again yi makes zero acknowledgement of her nudity-- his focus is on her, and that something strange is happening to her. yi also shows no discomfort or shame about entering the hot spring-- there's no "wait, you want me to get naked?!?!?!" moment that some media might have had, and i think that's really good not only because im a sucker for different cultural and hypothetical-cultural interpretations of nonsexual nudity, but also because a moment like that would have been cheesy and annoying and made the scene less serious. the focus of that scene ISN'T that the hot lynx woman is hot, it's that there is something mentally wrong with the hot lynx woman. the fact that these scenes take place at a hot spring without the text ever interacting with the nudity of the characters is to me a really strong argument for the idea that nudity is fairly normal and definitely not inherently sexual for solarians. the idea that it is inherently sexual is a very historically recent and western thing anyway and maybe i just haven't consumed enough media where it's not portrayed that way but i found this portrayal really refreshing ESPECIALLY WHEN ITS WOMEN ok this isn't even in a gay way i literally don't care about bodies like that. i dont having sex. i just think it's really really refreshing and nice for women to be, like, able to have these kind of scenes and character moments without the text reducing the entire scene to "ohh look boobies lol". without them being censored or hypersexualised or made into a joke. rips off shirt to reveal a tattoo on my bare chest that says "I FEEL STRONGLY ABOUT AFAB BODIES BEING TREATED LIKE THEY'RE INHERENTLY SEXUAL AND THE STRONG EMOTION I FEEL ABOUT THIS IS THAT IT FUCKING SUCKS". thank you for reading my essay.

[alltimecharlo]

Crosby is going to worlds I need a jealous Will because Mack is constantly talking about Sid.

anon… you read my mind. of course this needs writing about hehe 🩵 fic under the cut!!!

Will answers the FaceTime with his hair still damp from the post-game shower, wearing his new Team USA hoodie and the satisfied, low-simmering glow of someone who got on the scoresheet tonight.

Mack, when he picks up, is grinning like he’s got something up his sleeve already. He’s still in his base layer, sweaty and a little flushed himself, sprawled on the bench in the Canadian team’s dressing room, one leg bouncing like he’s buzzing from his own win.

“You looked good out there,” Will says first, preempting whatever smugness is about to come his way. “That goal was nasty.”

“I know,” Mack replies, all breezy confidence. “But I saw your little backhand sauce on that assist too. Real cute.”

Will smirks. “We’re winning Worlds this year. Just prepping you for heartbreak.”

“Oh?” Mack leans forward, chin in hand, eyes dancing. “Is that so?”

Will narrows his eyes. “Don’t start.”

Mack just grins wider. “It’s just… maybe you haven’t heard.”

He’s drawing it out. Dramatic. Cagey. Smug.

Will rolls his eyes. “Oh my God, what.”

Mack leans in close to the screen, eyes sparkling. “We got Crosby.”

Will’s brain screeches to a halt. “What?”

“Yup. Official. Sid the Kid’s joining the Worlds roster.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way.” Mack is downright giddy now, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Can you believe? I’m gonna get to skate with him. Play with him. I think our styles are gonna match real nice, y’know?”

Will’s jaw tenses. “Sure.”

“He’s just got this vision, right? This—like, effortless read of the ice. And he’s so good in the corners, and off the cycle—”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him play before, thanks.”

Mack pauses, eyebrows lifting. “Wait a second.”

Will glares.

“Oh my God,” Mack breathes, the grin back and bigger than ever. “Are you jealous?”

Will scoffs, loud and theatrical. “What? No.”

“Bullshit.”

“I just don’t want to play against Crosby. Who would? It’s—come on, he’s, like, an Avenger. He just shows up in red and white and ruins lives.”

“Uh huh,” Mack says, leaning back against the lockers, still grinning like he’s won something. “But that’s not why you’re jealous.”

Will crosses his arms. “Whatever.”

“You’re jealous I wanna play with him.”

“That’s—” Will falters, jaw twitching. “It’s not like that.”

Mack tilts his head, mock-sweet. “Aww, Smitty. You know you’re my number one liney always.”

“Fuck off.” Will’s voice cracks slightly with laughter despite himself, cheeks visibly flushing. “You’re such a dick.”

Mack cackles, unrepentant. “You love it.”

Will mumbles, “Shut up,” under his breath, lips quirking. But his eyes are warm.

And then Mack softens, like he can’t help himself. “Hey. You’re my favourite. Always.”

Will glances away, swallows once, then looks back. “Yeah. You too.”

They talk a bit more—Mack chirps him for the turnover he had in the second, Will points out that Mack almost blew a backcheck before his goal—and then the conversation drifts, easy, warm, familiar. Will watches as Mack yawns mid-sentence and slouches more heavily into the bench.

“It’s bedtime for you,” Will says, fond.

“Mm. Same time zone,” Mack says through a yawn. “You should sleep too.”

Will shrugs. “Don’t feel tired.”

“Well,” Mack says brightly, eyes lighting up with mischief again, “I would say goodnight like a normal person, but I gotta go suck Crosby’s dick now, so—”

Will ends the call mid-laugh, rolling his eyes with a fond groan.

His phone pings a moment later with a text from Mack:

Mack: 💛🖤💛

Will glares at his screen before typing.

Will: do they rlly have to be the fucking pens’ colors

Mack: jk :P 🩵🩵🩵

Will sighs and lets his head thunk back against the headboard. Then he types:

Will: 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵 idiot.

He grins at the screen before locking it and letting it fall onto the comforter beside him. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

God help him—he’s such a fucking sap.

And, apparently, at war with Sidney Crosby now.

♡

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 33

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- like and rb 🤍 I KNOW yall hate me with these cliffhangers, but you know I loveeee to see y’all suffer lol.

Billie’s POV

I let her get it all out. I held her for a while, soothing her cries, trying to come up with solutions.

I pulled away from our embrace, wiping her tears away. I fixed her hair, brushing it behind her ears, the way I always used to do.

I took her hands in mine, looking into her eyes. “I want you to come with me on tour.”

She furrowed her brows, shaking her head. I knew she would say no. “I can’t, Billie.”

I nodded, “You can. I’m not leaving without you.”

She shook her head again, pulling her hands away from mine.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, do you hear me?” I raised my brows at her, my voice firm. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time.

“I can’t, I need to find another job, Billie. I still need to pay my bills somehow.” She sighed, “I wish I could.”

“You’ll work for me! I can get you a job in two seconds, Remy.”

She thought about it. She spaced out, looking through the little window by her bed, as the tree branches scratched up against it. The rain pitter-pattered on the glass, the clouds blocking the sunset from glowing into the room.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She tilted her head at me, “I don’t know…”

“Please, I want you to! I need a new photographer anyway. I know you’d get the best photos.” I begged her.

“We’ll see. Maybe just until I find another job. I’ll start applying.” She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes.

I pulled her back into my chest, swaying from side to side. I smiled big, knowing she’d be safe with me, at least for the next few months.

The next few hours went by without notice. I had finally calmed her down enough to get her to take a hot shower, while I ordered some food. I took it upon myself to tidy up around her apartment and do a load of laundry, making sure she had nothing to clean for the rest of the week.

Once the food arrived, I stood in the kitchen, placing food from the to-go containers onto two plates, purposely giving her the bigger portion.

“Remy we gotta do something about it. We have to report that to HR or something.

“HR doesn’t care, Billie, HR worships the ground they walk on. They won’t care. Besides, they’ll black list me and I’ll never get a job for a company that big again.”

I sigh, not wanting to push her to do anything she isn’t comfortable doing.

“Have some food, you haven’t eaten all day.” I sat next to her, handing her a plate.

After eating, we go to her room, cozying up under the covers, like we used to do, all the time.

We binge watch our show, letting the time go by in silence. Every once in a while, I glance over at her to make sure she’s okay. Her eyes followed the screen, occasionally licking her lips to keep them moist, or yawning and curling her toes.

After some time, I notice her starting to space out, looking past the tv, completely in thought. I watch her, seeing her fingers begin to pick at each other again, her restless mind keeping her occupied.

No one in the world has ever captivated me more than her. She’s breathtaking, especially when she doesn’t know anyone’s looking. The slope of her nose, so delicately sculpted, the faint freckles splattered over its bridge. Her lashes were long, clashing with her bottom ones as she blinked.

“What’s on your mind.” I turned slightly towards her.

I admired her eyes as she shifted her gaze towards me. She bit the inside of her lip, still in a daze. I gave her a soft smile as she looked in my eyes too.

She adjusted the pillow under her neck, snapping back into reality. She shook her head softly, “I just can’t believe my life right now. I feel like I can’t catch a break. I’m so fucked.”

“No, you’re not. Remy, it’s all gonna be okay. I promise.” My voice was slow and soft, anything to keep her calm.

She sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know how I’m going to pay for all these expenses. This place, my car, I have no insurance now… I should’ve thought this through.” I could see her brain turning at a million miles per hour.

“Don’t do that to yourself, Remy. There’s no point. What’s done is done. It was for the best.” I comforted her, “I’m so proud of you. You know that?”

She blinked, tears dripping down her face again, my progress unraveling before me.

“Rem… Hey, don’t torture yourself.” I brushed her hair behind her ears again, making sure her long curtain bangs stayed put too. I missed doing that so much.

“Everything is going to be fine. I promise you, you’ll be fine. We’ll do this together, you don’t have to deal with it alone, Rem.” I assured her, knowing she’d have a hard time accepting my help.

“I don’t even think I have enough saved up for it all.” She sniffled, frustrated to be crying again.

I had finally fought off her tears and given her ibuprofen for her raging headache. I hated to see her so upset. “Look at me. Try to take a breath. Listen…”

She tried to wipe her tears, mad that they weren’t stopping.

“I’m gonna take care of whatever you can’t handle yourself. I’d take care of all of it, if you let me, but something tells me you won’t.” I wiped away her tears for her.

“Even then, I’d pay you back even if I had to work the rest of my life.” She shook her head, “It’s too much. I can’t let you do that. Especially not now. I’ve been the worse friend, Billie. I know how much I’ve hurt you. If only you knew how awful I feel, knowing I almost lost you.”

“Stop that. C’mere.” I rolled her toward me, letting her melt into my arms. “I was a shitty friend too. We’re even.” I sighed as she cried into my arms again.

I stared at the ceiling, listening to the background chatter of the television.

“I’m here for you. That’s what best friends are for.” I nuzzled her face into my neck, brushing her hair out with my hands. She threw her leg over me, like she always used to do.

“I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you so much.” She sniffled, between sobs.

“I got you, Remy, I got you. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe now.”

She laid in my arms as I took my fingertips and softly scratched up and down her back, tracing little shapes into her skin, until I felt goosebumps form. I ran my fingers all the way up her spine, and down to her back dimples.

Her breathing slowed and steadied, letting me know she was asleep. I didn’t want to move, not even an inch. My heart was satisfied, finally feeling her at peace. I just wanted her to rest.

I’ll let her fall into a deep sleep, then I’ll take off and drive home, I thought.

Just 20 more minutes and I’ll leave.

I have to get home soon….

I close my eyes, and suddenly, we’re back in time. Back to a time when sleepovers were a regular occurrence. When we’d spend hours inside her room just laughing, talking, singing, doing anything at all. I felt so safe, so comfortable, so warm...

[pineapple-downside-up-cake]

@soapcloth LOOK. I know this isn't what you meant but my brain said go and I did it.

Imagining Soap being haunted by Reader Energy narrating his life and dictating explicit erotica around his house. Constantly. At first he's absolutely panicked [see below] because he Does Not Like Spooky Things, but he realizes it doesn't mean harm, not really, and he slowly develops a paranormosocial relationship with it. us. idk.

MDNI, 18+

If asked, Johnathan Soap McTavish would swear he did not narrate in his head, in third person or otherwise.

At all.

And if he did, he would nae fecking do it in a fecking british accent.

Which is why, when he finds himself and his cock the talking point of a disembodied BBC narrator of unknown origin, he panics.

A little bit.

It did not start small.

It started large. Humongous, knock-it-out-of-the-ballpark and choke on it large.

He was watching telly in the dark. He’d finished a bottle of scotch not long ago, and his movie was almost over. He was comfortable – wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Half asleep, he thought it was the telly at first.

Soap spread his legs on the couch. His grey sweatpants hid nothing from your gaze. His t-shirt gripped his biceps like it never wanted to let go – you couldn’t blame it.

You were hungry.

Johnny blinked and rubbed a hand through his hair. He must be more tired than he realized. Dead on his feet and on the couch. It sounded like someone was talking to him. He was home alone, though.

You slid a hand up tree-trunk thighs, strong enough to climb, solid enough to ride. He twitched beneath your palm as you slid him free.

Radio. Must be a radio or the neighbors playing music too loudly again. Johnny mutes the telly, straining into the silence. Right when he’s about to give up, it starts again.

Stroking gently, you grin up at him, at the fire in his eyes. “I’ve been a bad soldier… I need to wash my mouth out with Soap.” He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before, hard and uncut. Precum glistens at his tip, and it’s all the invitation you need. You press a kiss to his head, lick your way down his shaft –

Steaming Jesus. He must have hit his head. There is a voice – and that’s a line he wouldn’t pull out for the cheapest of hookups. He got shot and died and no one bothered to tell him. “Hello? Gaz, you pulling a prank?”

Nothing.

Definitely time to sleep this one off.

He clicked off the movie. Not really worth the wait, honestly. He’s grateful he didn’t spend money at the theater for it.

The house creaks around him as he brushes his teeth and crawls into bed. He’s more relieved than he cares to admit that it’s properly silent again. Whatever he heard, it was in his head. Someone outside getting carried away, too much liquor, and he was imagining things.

Everything will be fine in the morning.

He closes his eyes, settling into his pillow.

Tears stream down your face as you gag around Johnny’s mammoth dick, one hand on the bed, the other moving furiously between your legs as he gasps, bucking into your mouth, “So close, y'er so good to me, taking my cock so well, y’er mouth is gonna be so damn clean – ‘

Johnny bolts upright in bed with a yelp. They’re definitely talking about him.

A chill races down his spine. Even with his eyes adjusted to the dark, not blind from a screen, he can’t see anything. Spots dance in his vision, and he can feel his heartrate pounding.

“This isn’t funny, Gaz.”

Whoever it is, they don’t stop.

Johnny breaks, your name on his lips, spurting ropes and ropes and ropes of pearly white cum into your mouth. You swallow, because he tastes so good, and wipe the tears from your eyes.

“…Ghost?!” Johnny squeaks, jumping out of bed. Pure hallucination, now. “Price?” There is only one ghost in this world Johnny can tolerate, and he’s got two legs. “I’ve got a gun!”

He does not.

But no one else needs to know that all his gear stays on base when he’s on leave. He checks under the bed, and in the closet. Looks for a hidden radio, or a secret phone, trying to track the noise but block out the words from his mind.

It doesn’t work.

“Can I kiss you now, Johnny? My mouth is clean.” You ask prettily.

“No, no ye can nae!” He barks, backing into a defensible position. This is going a bit far, even for a prank. Everything is clear.

He’s the only one in the room. No sign of any speakers.

And that’s when he spots the glow. A soft, fuzzy blue. It looks almost like a person – nearly a holo-projection, vaguely hominoid and androgynous, and it’s sitting on his bed. He stares, squints hard, and rubs his eyes, but then it moves and that’s about all the spooking he can take on no sleep and few measures of scotch in his system.

Johnny snags his wallet on the way out the door and beelines down the road. He’s not running or fleeing his house. He’s making a tactical retreat in the proper fucking direction.

The pub down the street usually has rooms – he’ll stay someplace else tonight.

And if any of the squad is behind it…

Well. He hopes they are. Hopes he can laugh it off, later – ha ha, Gaz, Ghost. You got me.

[They aren’t.]