#I don’t support Jimmy by the way!!!!

[hiya-im-mary]

I HATH FOUND A GADSEBOO RELATED SONG!!!!!!

IT FITS HIM ALL TOO WELL!!!!!

(Mayhaps I should make a playlist for him!)

[dykedvonte]

I was rewatching mouthwashing, and I ended up thinking of the different reactions that Curly and Jimmy had in doing their tasks. How during the scene of Anya evaluating Jimmy and showing dread towards the idea of doing his evaluation, Curly was the one that offered to take it off her hands. He had no issue with adding more to his plate, because he knew - or well, thought, he knew that Jimmy wasn't going to "bullshit" with him since he's known him for a long time. When Anya hands Curly a note from Swansea, Curly goes to check out what the issue is and he takes care of it without a complaint, the only "complaint" he has is how this incident could have damaged the pods. Which is reasonable, those pods are their only way to be saved if anything tragic happens on the ship. However, in comparison to Jimmy being asked to do things, he's passive-aggressive about it. When Anya asks Jimmy if he could help her out with Curly's painkillers, he tells her that people should be worth their titles, specifically using her title as a nurse when she asked him for help and then when she says forget it, since he made her feel insecure, he still goes "Oh no, I'LL take care of it" as if he was doing a chore, a favor for her. Then, there's that part where he blows up at her for things that she didn't even ask him to do - more so the others asked him about it, like the code scanner, him deciding he needed to find the axe for the foam, and then, there's the medicine part (which when she does ask, and she reconsiders - going to do it herself, he takes that away from her). Jimmy complains about the tasks he has to do and he treats it like a big issue, a "woes me" that he has to do this and that - wanting the praise of the capital without actually doing any work. While Curly doesn't complain about it, in fact, he even mentions that he's aware of how well he is doing at his job as a Captain during that cockpit scene with him and Jimmy. If Jimmy only had to do a small amount of tasks to get irritated and annoyed at being captain, while Curly didn't which I feel like encapsulates their personalities. Curly understands what he's doing is a job, it's a responsibility, why would he complain at any point for doing what he's suppose too? Why would he be upset at people asking him to do tasks? While Jimmy on the other hand, isn't used to it at all and it's different to what he's had before and he's realizing that he doesn't actually like doing the work he has too. I just wanted to ramble about it even if it seemed kind of obvious xd

It’s obvious but it is a thing people miss or understate when trying to find parallels in Curly’s and Jimmy’s relationship/personalities.

Like the way people portray it as neither taking responsibility when it is almost split down the middle of Curly taking responsibilities and faults that shouldn’t be his and making himself unequipped to handle the ones that are while Jimmy refuses to handle the responsibilities he has because he wasn’t expecting the work that comes with them.

Not a lot to say but people forget that another thing the game comments on is prioritization of issues and responsibilities and how the guys fail at it in one way or another in the situation.

[thebestusernamepossible]

I’m mostly staying off the Mouthwashing fandom bc I personally don’t want to put myself through whatever discourse is ever going on there. But know I love Anya and Mouthwashing is one of the best games I’ve played that had an SA survivor AND was respectful about it!! The abuse Anya suffered is never portrayed as a spectical for the audience to leer at. They use the art of implication VERY well, and in the end Anya gets to go out dignified. She’s not just Jimmy’s tradgic victim, she’s her own character who makes her own decisions. Jimmy doesn’t get to kill her, she expresses her own agency to do so. She’s also the one who kept the gun away from him for so long. Also she’s SO fucking strong, she’s so cool. Anya I love you.

Also the game’s overarching (but subtle) commentary on rape culture, enabling, and how capitalism almost makes a set dressing for it is peak.

[smokingsoothesthesoul]

# DREW STARKEY — LIVE TALK SHOW

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ ────୨ৎ──── drew’s first time on a talk show, which just so happens to be jimmy fallon’s and he’s known for scheming. he surprises drew starkey with his celebrity crush. which just so happens to be you.

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ — pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey !

author’s note: please show some love, also this is my first time posting on here, and i don't know how good my one-shots are. enjoy!

word count : 1.8k

you were known for being one of the most famous actresses sought after. they’d been right for it, your acting was phenomenal. as much fame as you had, you never really let it get to your head, knowing where you had come from was the most important thing to you. 

not only that but you were also known for the activist and humanitarian organizations you’d created or supported alongside other celebrities, like angelina jolie, phoebe tonkin, daniel craig, etc.

so when daniel craig’s managers reached out to you it wasn’t a big surprise, apparently they had been reached out to by a talk show if they could invite you along as well. knowing daniel was more than glad to pass the invitation along, you accepted. 

you wondered why they’d want you there seeing as queer had just premiered, and that had nothing to do with you

—

drew had been nervous, he’d be on a talk show, but nonetheless he was a wreck. it took him forever to decide what he’d be wearing, ultimately deciding on a charcoal grey, and white tux with a black tie. he hoped his outfit would be fine for the show.

as he waited backstage for his introduction he paced around nervous, spinning his gold ring on his finger, an anxious tic he had. 

before he knew it, he heard jimmy fallon, “ladies and gentleman, let’s welcome the man everyone's been talking about, he’s rising to fame, the one and only drew starkey!” he announced as drew walked out and shook hands with the bodyguard on his way to the main set. 

hearing the loud cheers and roars of everyone was amazing and he couldn't help but be shook to his core, never in a hundred years would he have expected this. 

he waved to everyone as he made his way over to jimmy and shook his hand, before he proceeded to sit down in one of the couches.

“so drew we’re glad you accepted our invitation, isn’t that right?” jimmy asked the audience, before they all roared in agreement.

“i’m honored, thank you for inviting me.” drew replied confidently, knowing he was nervous inside.

“so we know you’ve been chasing gold for about four years, and now you’re in a queer relationship with daniel craig, james bond, which has premiered if i’m correct?” jimmy asked, knowing the answer but trying to build up the conversation.

“yes, out in theatres about a week ago.” drew replied. 

“how did that transition work, you know, from filming a show where you don’t really have a romantic relationship until recently to a full blown queer relationship?” jimmy asked curiously.

“honestly, a bit overwhelming and a lot of anxiety from my part. not more so because of the transition but just because i knew i had to ace this role. getting the opportunity to work alongside daniel craig and for luca guadagnino was truly the opportunity of a lifetime. whatever time it was, i knew i had to give it my all. sometimes i doubted my performance but daniel helped me and gave me advice whenever i needed it,” drew replied, while he felt himself relaxing a bit as he got comfortable enough to share personal details.

“there was even a time where,” drew began before lightly biting his lip amused at the story daniel shared with him, before continuing, “daniel told me of an experience he had with another co-star. basically when you first film scenes and most of all when they’re scenes like we were filming, the first day on set really is just practice. not reading lines, but actually practicing how certain scenes will go. in our case mature scenes were what we focused on at the beginning seeing as we’d be testing out our chemistry.”

“anywho the point is that once we were literally in the middle of a bed scene, nothing too explicit, and daniel chuckled when i fucked up a line because instead of saying ‘we can’t be doing this’ i said ‘we shan’t be doing this.’ he literally rolled out of bed and said he had to take a breather, i was confused, i mean we fuck up lines sometimes but never enough to call break,” drew explained.

“yeah normally that doesn’t happen, i would’ve been nervous,” jimmy commented.

drew laughed and nodded his head, before continuing, “i was dying of anxiety in the inside, i was like did i fuck up this badly. and i guess daniel could see it written on my face, which is when he walked over and explained how in his last role the same thing had happened with his co-star. and i couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and literally said, ‘thank fuck’ to which he laughed at as he walked away to get a water.”

jimmy let out a chuckle at the ending of his story, and said, “oh my god i would’ve died of laughter too.” 

drew nodded as he swiped his backhand on his nose, a reflex of his, before replying “yeah i definitely would’ve too but honestly i was too nervous at the time, now i think back on it and laugh about it.”

“actually there was something i was looking forward to, with you here, let’s show this clip,” jimmy said motioning towards the tv for the audience.

before they knew it, drew was being interviewed by a reporter who asked who his celebrity crush was, ‘y/n y/ln’ he answered without falter.

as the video ended drew couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and turned to jimmy while he began, “is that still true?” 

drew knew the answer to that, and nodded, “yeah it is,” he replied confidently.

“we have a surprise for you if you look at the monitor,” jimmy said before motioning towards the tv.

if the world could swallow drew up whole, he’d let it. at that moment. because then and there on the tv, where times he’d stated his celebrity crush was y/n to interviewers and it was playing in chronological order.

as the video ended jimmy looked at him and playfully asked, “anything to comment?” 

drew couldn’t help but cover his mouth with one hand before sliding it down to reply, “genuinely that’d be mine if i could somehow reach her.”

“well who knows maybe one day you will,” jimmy commented supportively.

“unless i get the courage to actually dm her, it’ll be a pending matter,” drew replied.

“why the need for a dm? i’m right here,” you said after making your way quietly behind him signaling the audience to not spoil it.

at that moment, drew froze up, and instantly rose up from his seat but slowly turned around, not knowing if it was real.

as he slowly turned, you waved at him and slightly giggled at his nervous reaction. you waited for him to say something before you said anything else.

as you stood there waiting, drew finally caught a grip and let his charm play out even if he was a train wreck inside. 

“i’m drew starkey,” he introduced, stammering quite a bit. 

“i know,” you replied smiling.

hearing that drew’s brows rose in confusion, he didn’t expect that. he was a nobody and you were everything.

“i was invited to your premiere but i ended up in the er or else i would’ve been there, apologies,” you said, genuinely honest.

drew was lost for words, yet jimmy asked him, “drew you still there or are you too starstruck?” 

“mhm,” drew nodded, not necessarily indicating which one but they could all guess.

he couldn’t get over the fact you’d just apologized for not attending his premiere, gosh he was literally about to faint before he talked to himself in his head ‘get your shit together before you scare her’ which he proceeded to do, and extended his hand for her to shake.

“none of that, my mama taught me better than that” you replied before walking closer to him and pulling him into a hug.

drew couldn’t believe this was happening but reacted fast enough to not make it seem awkward for the audience, at least that's what he hoped and reciprocated the hug. wrapping his hands around your body.

as they pulled apart, you walked up to jimmy and shook his hand seeing as there was a literal desk between you both and greeted him. 

“jimmy it’s been a while,” you commented.

“glad to have you back on here,” jimmy replied genuinely.

“now that we’re dealing with a starstruck man, we actually have a few live questions, if you don’t mind answering them?” jimmy asked.

“of course, ask away,” she replied amused, wanting to know what was being asked.

jimmy read from his phone, “how does it feel to be drew starkey’s celebrity crush?”

“well honestly, and i quote, from the man himself, ‘i’m honored,’” you replied knowing drew was known for his replies of being honored.

next to you drew couldn’t help but smile amused knowing he said that quite a lot, he hadn’t been lying he really was honored. but to hear that you were honored he thought of you a certain way, well that was the most fucking honored he’d be in his life. before, now, or after.

“what do you think of drew starkey and his roles?” jimmy asked, reading off the second question being asked by the audience.

“well honestly, i’m definitely an outer banks fan. i’m glad he’s finally getting the recognition he deserved, i’ve been there since season one, people now are barely catching on,” you started.

as you replied, drew couldn’t help but feel touched at what you were saying. he really had just risen to fame this past year, with the new season of outer banks even though he’d been there since day one of the show.

“i’ll admit this new season and the past one that came out, i couldn’t help but feel a tad bit jealous that our local psycho was tied up and locked in with someone,” you admitted lightly, chuckling amused.

“for me this is a situation where i love the actor but hate the character unfortunately, because rafe deserved better, in this season four that came out. sofia betrayed him and genuinely frustrated me,” you explained.

drew couldn’t help but feel touched at how you were talking about his character, because it was something he’d poured his heart into. 

“one last question for both of you before we go,” jimmy asked before a drum roll sound came on to build anticipation.

“have we created a successful cupid match?” jimmy asked, to which the audience cheered, curious as well.

at that moment both drew and you gazed into each other's eyes, “only time will tell,” you answered truthfully, ‘but maybe we’ll get there’ you tried to communicate that through your gaze with drew. 

the cameras cut and now there was a rising to fame actor, holding out his hand for a famous actress to take. 

and that she did.

[jerryseinfeldisafurry]

I have to speak my peace about Captain Curly

Warning: mouthwashing spoilers

So, I’ve noticed a lot of people saying the same points that are essentially: “Oh Curly is a piece of shit because he just let his buddy get away with assaulting Anya”

And I am here to argue against this point. So at no point does Curly deny, or tell Anya that what she went through never happened, or anything like that. Usually, when somebody “supports their friend” after said friend commits assault, they will react with disbelief, or just general distrust for the person accusing their friend. I feel like the fact that Anya continuously makes small references to the assault situation around Curly, and the fact she talks and is alone with Captain Curly so often, are indicators that she has not been met with disbelief or distrust on his end.

When a victim receives a bad reaction to telling somebody about their assault, they usually do not bring it up or talk about it with that person after that. They also would not have the same dynamic, the same relaxed mannerisms that Anya has with Curly.

Now, onto the point where people accuse Curly of enabling Jimmy, I also don’t think that’s true. They are stuck on a relatively small ship, with no way out for over a year. They can’t risk hurting or punishing Jimmy, because Curly of all people will know how reactionary and violent Jimmy can be. They can’t kill him, because that’s illegal, and Curly is unfortunately responsible for Jimmy considering he is the Captain of the ship. Aside from the fact that, with the way Pony Express is shown to treat the crew, if they harmed or killed one of their own crew members it’s entirely possible that they would not get paid at all, and all the work and time and energy (and suffering, on Anya’s part) would literally be for nothing. Then they also get tried for murder, and they would have to prove that Jimmy did something wrong, they would have to prove that Jimmy assaulted Anya. After half a year of him being dead, with no physical evidence to prove what he did except a pregnancy that they can’t prove was forced upon her.

Curly is not enabling his friend, and trying to sweep the situation under the rug, he is literally constantly trying to deescalate the situation. Curly doesn’t act like he’s just trying to make the situation disappear. When Anya expresses that she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t even say out right that she doesn’t want to do his evaluation. Yet Curly decides to volunteer despite not really having the experience, and it also not being in his job description. After Anya tells Jimmy she’s pregnant, and she’s scared for her life, Curly goes to try and talk to Jimmy. He tries to get Jimmy to calm down, and to think rationally, he tries to keep Jimmy from acting out. and then Jimmy goes and crashes the entire fucking ship into an asteroid. Even if they wanted to imprison him, there was nowhere to put him. The only places that had locks were the cockpit and medical. We saw what happened when he was in the cock pit alone, and the last place he needs to be is the one place that Anya can really call her own.

When Curly says he’ll talk to Jimmy, that’s not him belittling the situation. He needs to stay calm and reassure Anya that he’s trying to help her. If Curly was immediately like “I’m gonna go kick his ass” or if he insisted on some sort of retaliation against Jimmy, then that would just stress Anya out more. There is no way to keep eyes on Jimmy at all times, and if he faces any punishment over Anya then she knows he will find a way to punish her for it. Aside from the fact that, I think Curly may have done whatever she asked, especially with the way he emphasized he’d do “anything” to help her when she first tells him that she’s pregnant. He informs her that he truly cares about her, her wellbeing is his responsibility.

Anya also seems to be way too forgiving for her own good. Even when she thought Curly tried to kill all of them, all she had to say was that she couldn’t believe that a person’s worst moments make them a monster. If she was willing to forgive what she thought was attempted murder, I’m sure she came up with every excuse in the book for Jimmy. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying she deserved it. She didn’t. What she went through was fucking awful and horrific. But it’s in her nature to forgive people, even when they really don’t fucking deserve it. We don’t even know if she knew she was assaulted the whole time, since there’s a good chance that Jimmy manipulated her into thinking she deserved it/wanted it. It may be possible that she thought she deserved it, and was too ashamed to speak about it openly for a while, with only the feelings of disgust and shame to accompany her.

Let’s also take into consideration that Anya was not the only person Jimmy was abusive to. We saw the way he talked to Curly, especially at the birthday celebration. Jimmy was an abusive dickhead to everyone. The last time Curly tried deescalating the situation before the crash, Jimmy immediately started taking the stuff Curly told him in confidence and using it against him, to make Curly just as miserable as he was. Jimmy turned his own suffering into shared suffering because then he could tell himself that he wasn’t just trying to get away from his own actions, he was trying to HELP his friend, who was also suffering.

My point is, I think too many people are not thinking deeply enough about Curly, as well as the context on the entire situation. They are putting blame on him when he is also a victim of Jimmy. It was literally just an overall shitty situation

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! I’ve been wanting to request to you for while bc I love your writing so much but I’m not used to requesting so idk 😭

Ok so I LOVE the way you write for wolfstar x reader. I was wondering if you could write smth where reader gets drunk (or just tipsy) and, bc of the alcohol, she gets more confident and starts being super verbally affectionate when she normally isn’t. It’s not that she’s shy but she just isn’t really a verbally affectionate person.

Thank you lovely!

cw: alcohol, inebriation

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“You don’t just casually brush a customer’s hand unless you’re hitting on them!” Sirius insists as he jimmies his key in the front door. “And right in front of us, too. The gall!” 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” He can practically hear Remus’ eyes rolling. “He wasn’t hitting on me.” 

“Our angel and I didn’t get felt up when he gave us our drinks.” 

Something suspiciously giggle-esque comes out of Remus. “He didn’t feel me up!” 

“I think you just don’t understand how handsome you are,” you say in a voice made of dandelion fluff, soft and light and pure. “People like you more than you realize. It’s sort of sweet how you don’t notice, though.” 

The lock finally gives. Sirius opens the door gallantly, allowing you and Remus to spill inside first. You’re clinging to your boyfriend like moss to a tree, and Sirius is endlessly grateful for Remus’ physical stability even in inebriation so that he doesn’t have to support the both of you himself. 

Sirius never sets out to be the most sober at the end of the night, but Remus only had as many drinks as Sirius and has somehow ended up twice as tipsy. Sirius’ theory: the bartender took a liking to him and poured him doubles as a token of his affection. Considering Remus’ tall frame, Welsh origins, and the fact that he’s been able to drink Sirius under the table since they were fifteen, this seems the only reasonable explanation. 

“Me?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised, a bit of bashfulness creeping into his tone. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “Remember that barista last week? She liked you, too, but you couldn’t tell then either.” 

“She liked me because I had a simple order.” 

You shake your head, smiling up at him all soft and adoring. “No, she liked you because you’re lovely.” You reach up, tracing the lines of one of his scars with your fingertip. “Very, very lovely.” 

Sirius is inclined to agree, even as Remus’ face goes a very, very lovely rosy hue. You’re in rare form tonight, honey-tongued and expressive in ways you’re usually not inclined to. You’ve been overflowing with declarations of love and sweetness since you all left the bar. 

“Do you want something to drink, my loves?” Sirius asks as Remus tries to collapse to the floor as carefully as he can so that he can take his shoes off with you stuck to his side. 

“Awe, Siri,” you turn to him with a look of wonder, “are you gonna make sure we’re fed and watered?” 

Sirius can’t help himself. He crouches beside you, slotting his hand alongside your face. You’re positively moony-eyed. 

“I sure am, sweetness. Is that okay with you?” 

You nod, rubbing your cheek against his palm. “I love you when you take care of us. I mean,” you get very serious, “I love you all of the time. It’s not conditional, just, this is a bit extra.” 

Sirius is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “Noted,” he tells you. 

You continue to look at him with that sweet, dreamy expression, and Sirius realizes you’ve likely forgotten he ever asked you a question. He’d be content to do this with you all night, except the only thing that sounds better than sitting here holding your face is getting to hold both you and Remus once he gets you both in bed. 

Also, now your boyfriend is watching the two of you with a lovelorn expression, clearly feeling left out, and Sirius can’t have that. 

“Do you want some water, darling?” he asks him. 

Remus’ cheeks pinken again at being caught. “I wouldn’t mind some. I can get it.” 

“No, you say here.” Sirius stands, setting a fond hand atop his boyfriend’s head. “Why don’t you two take your shoes off, and I’ll bring it to you.” 

Sirius can hear you and Remus whispering and giggling to each other from the kitchen. Your voices intertwine in a sweet, steady susurrus, as much as part of your home as the hum of the refrigerator or the creaking of the pipes. When Sirius comes back with a cup for each of you, you’ve waylaid Remus on the floor, your torso half atop his and his hands cupping your face. You’re both smiling tenderheartedly. One of your shoes is still on, the clasp undone. Sirius sits by your feet.

“My lovely dovely,” Remus is murmuring, sozzled, squishing your face between his hands. You look nearly ready to melt into a puddle on their floor when you feel Sirius pulling off your remaining shoe and look back at him. 

“Sirius.” You appear delighted to see him. “Did you have a fun time tonight?” 

He presses cups of water into both of your hands. You sit up to drink yours, whereas Remus tips the cup half on his face when he tries to drink it lying down. 

“I did,” Sirius replies. He clasps Remus’ hand to help him up, and the other boy lets him. “Did you?” 

Remus runs his fingers up the length of Sirius’ forearm. “Did you really?” he asks. There’s a small divot of worry between his brows.

Sirius frowns. He leans forward, kissing it away. “Of course I did, lovely. Why are you asking?” 

“We were just saying,” you answer for him, “that we hope you did still have a good time, even though now you have to look after us.” 

A little laugh puffs out of Sirius, relieved. “Oh. Well you’ve got nothing to worry about there, yeah? I love looking after you.”

You glance at Remus, smiling. “That’s what I said.” 

“Next time,” Remus says somberly, “you can get as drunk as you like, and we’ll bring you home and feed you water.” 

“And massage your back,” you add. “And give you cuddles, if you like.” 

“I like the sound of that very much,” Sirius agrees. “Is this your way of telling me you’d like back massages and cuddles?” 

You smile at him dopily. “I love you,” you say. 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I love you too. Alright, you win. Back massages and cuddles if you both finish your waters and get in bed.” 

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss it Better Pt:3

Curly x Reader

AN: I am just speechless. All this support is making me tear up. Like holy shit. Thank you. Don’t worry! When this finishes(god idk how it will I’m making up as I go since yall want more chapters) I’ll make sure to post it to AO3 for easier access! Just thank you again! And uh. Don’t forget I have a Kofi and Wishlist if you wanna like tip or something. NO PRESSURE! Just a reminder to anyone who WANTS and CAN! You come first! Just. Thank you again!

SUM: You couldn’t sleep, so you try and remember things with Curly to lull you to sleep. As you do, you remember things that are important for a captain to have. Very important, and you are gonna be certain to find them

Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, mentions of abortion (it’s a rather calm chapter really. Take it as a pallet cleanser because the next chapter imma really show you how fucked up Jimmy is))

You just couldn’t sleep. It felt criminal to right now. So much was going through your head. So much has happened and now you had time to let it all soak in. The crash, Anya, why there was a crash, Curly’s condition, it made sleep impossible. Especially alone in that big bed that was meant for you and your husband.

You tried to take in deep breaths, and just let the thoughts wash over you. There was responsibility as the Captains Spouse. You weren’t just ‘eye candy’ like Jimmy said. You had worth, and were just as much important to the team as everyone else.

Such as learning a thing or two about what Captain should do in case of an emergency.

Curly was in no state to help, and Jimmy sure as fuck won’t help either. He was the reason everyone crashed after all. He’s a loose cannon and you needed to tip toe around him. Who knows what he might do next. You weren’t even sure if telling Swansea and Daisuke about what’s going on was smart.

Swansea has little girls of his own after all. He won’t react well at all. Then there’s Daisuke. Barely nineteen and thrown into this mess. He might panic or maybe even do something crazy like confront Jimmy. There was just to many what ifs.

So you were left on your own.

You would wrap yourself up in what was once Curly’s sleep robe and grab his spare ID card. The very thing that can unlock any door, and be the one thing that can lock your bedroom door. Definitely should have Anya sleep in here for a while. She deserves to be able to sleep soundly.

While you were waiting for everyone to sleep as well you would explore the bedroom. Looking into nook and cranny to see if there was anything of use. The Captains always were given a bunch of extra shit after all. Even Pony Express had to meet some safety protocols. Curly was their best after all. Even went as far as to try and help him fine work else where. That’s what he explained to you.

Shame. Was just a normal bedroom. The only thing that made it special was it was bigger, and had a lock. Dammit all to hell.

That’s when you tried to think back on past memories of you and your husband. To try and recall any kind of special thing the ships carry. Oh how you felt so guilty for never paying enough attention. Made you feel stupid and useless, but you weren’t.

At least not in comparison to Jimmy.

With a deep breath, you managed to recall something. Something not long before the crash even. You had knocked on the cockpit door to enter it, and was greeted to your husband and Jimmy working. Curly was rambling on about something, while Jimmy kept eyeing the locker suspiciously. As if he wanted to get inside of it for some reason.

That’s your best lead now. God dammit was it a shitty one. The cockpit was stuffed to the brim with foam. But then again that’s the front of the cockpit. If you were careful, and cut the right spot, maybe you can access the locker.

It’s something. Something is better than nothing.

With the robe tossed aside, a change into your jump suit, gloves slipped on, and beanie pulled on to keep your head safe you would make your way to the kitchen. Card key tucked securely inside of your jumpsuit compared to a pocket.

Jimmy can’t know.

Can’t know that you were stealing the only knife that the ship had.

Was going to be a pain in the ass to cut that foam but you really had nothing better to do. So, you unlocked the cock pit and focused on remembering its layout.

“For Anya, for Curly, for Swansea, for Daisuke, and all our families back home.”

You would start the slow and agonizing cutting. Little by little. Just chopping away to try and reach the right side of the pit. To get to that locker and see what was inside. That locker was in the cockpit for a reason. It can only be accessed by the pilots for a reason. There was a reason.

Any time you felt like your arms would give out you thought back to Curly. How he didn’t really have arms anymore to begin with. How Anya was busy throwing up right now. How they needed you. They both needed you.

It had been well over a hour, but you managed to reach the locker. You allowed yourself a breather at the sight of it. Damn was that a pain, but it’ll be worth it. Right?

With your breather over you would use the key card to access the locker. Inside was….Honestly junk. That had you very disappointed. You were honestly ready to cry out of frustration, only to see there were a few locked cabinets inside.

Ones that needed codes.

Codes you knew.

Curly made you memorize them in case of an emergency. He just said to memorize them. That it’s meant to just unlock pin pads. That Pony Express never bothered to change them.

You went to the lower locker and typed it in.

Strange, there was nothing inside. Suppose whatever was inside was taken out. You wondered what could have been in there. Was a very small locker so maybe it was some code scanner or universal unlocking device. Just wasn’t big enough for something you hoped for.

A transmitter.

He prayed it was near the front of the ship. That a transmitter would stuck in the heart of the foam, or as far as just shatter on contact. They had to have a spare communicator. Pony Express had to follow SOME rules after all. Imagine the ship being discovered and the people who found it saw it was missing something as important as that.

So you typed in the code for the larger locker. You were kinda afraid of opening it. To be met with another empty void of metal and dust.

You took a deep breath, and opened.

There really was a god.

There was what you were looking for. A real deal communicator. It was real, it looked untouched and even had dust on it to show that Jimmy never reached it.

Before you grabbed it you made sure to close the door behind you. Just to be sure. Was the dead of night, well from what the clocks say, and everyone should be asleep. Even Jimmy had to sleep. You had to make you move now.

Remain calm, and focus.

You can’t fuck this up.

You snuggled yourself into the corner of the pit, with the communication device in your lap. You hooked the head phones onto your head, and turned it on.

As you waited for it to boot up you made sure you were positioned so that if anyone came through the door, for some reason, you’ll notice. As far as anyone was aware though this room was basically a wall. No purpose to enter. You should be safe, but you had to think ahead. Jimmy was unpredictable, and so full of himself.

Better to be over prepared than see what happens if Jimmy finds out what you are doing.

Couldn’t help but give a squeak of surprise when someone finally spoke to you.

“This is the Emergency Spaceship Retrieval Sector. What seems to be the problem?”

A woman, through the static, spoke to you. Tears of relief fell down your face but you forced yourself to remain focused. You can’t mess this up now. No way no how.

“This is Tulpar for Pony Express. We have suffered a crash about a month ago. From what I can recall we had been a little over four months into our twelve month journey-“ You immediately explained, as to best help them get an estimation on how far the ship had traveled.

“Alright, who may I be speaking to at this moment?”

Deep breaths.

“I am the Spouse to Captain Curly. It is me, Jimmy the co-pilot, Anya the nurse, Swansea the mechanic, and Daisuke our intern.” Deep breaths, keep things quick and to the point.

“Are you all in any immediate danger?”

You had to think about that a moment. Jimmy is a dangerous man. Who knows what he might do next if you don’t play along. So, you had to be honest. You felt guilty for telling the operator what happened. That Curly suffered greatly and needed immediate medical attention, how Anya was a victim of assault and required an abortion as soon as possible, and that the reason for it all was because of Jimmy. He crashed the ship, he raped Anya, he destroyed Curly, and god knows what he will do next.

“Estimated arrival time will be about a month. We have your exact location thanks to the communicator. Remain calm, and know that help is on the way. We have logged this down in the report. Take care of your crew the best you can, Captain.”

And she would log off. You would let your head thump back, and simply cried. Cried in pure relief and joy. That a real person heard you, and was aware of what’s going on. That if anything did go wrong that at least someone knows. Someone will know what happened.

There was hope.

Now was a matter of survival.

One month.

You all needed to survive one month.

One Month Until Rescue…

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Tag List

@dinkyzoop @danart501 @spudfromspace @niyamamiya

[lewisvinga]

mayor que yo | max verstappen x pérez! reader

summary; max doesn’t care that checo’s sister is older than him. he just wants her no matter the age difference.

warnings; age gap but only by like 3-4 years😭 mentions of sex, reader is implied to be mexican ( duhhhh ) a bit of google translated spanish bc im too tired to mentally translate english to spanish

word count; 740

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; this song is so good too

masterlist !

back to old school masterlist.

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Max always cherished the few quiet moments he had in the roaring world of Formula One. He liked having moments of peace in his motorhome between practice sessions and media duties.

This is partially why he was so annoyed when hearing loud and quick Spanish followed by laughter coming from the motorhome of his new teammate.

Max liked Checo. He’s a cool guy. However, at that moment, he did not like him for bringing whoever it was making all the commotion.

He checked the time and sighed, knowing he had to leave the comfort of his motorhome. He grumbled as he put his phone back in his pocket, and opened the door. He didn’t expect to be met with deep brown eyes and a warm smile.

“Oh, Max! This is my baby sister,” Checo quickly introduced his sister to his new teammate who looked confused.

Before he could say anything, he was pulled into a tight hug by his teammate's sister. The warm scent of jasmine filled the air as he nervously hugged her back. “I’m Y/n. It’s so great to finally meet you!” She exclaimed as she pulled back, her accent peeking through from excitement.

Max cleared his throat, ignoring the way his heart began to race. “Yeah- It’s nice to meet you too.”

Ever since that day, Y/n was constantly on Max’s mind. Whenever she attended races to support her brother, the Dutch driver could never keep her eyes off her.

He knew she was older than him but just by a few years. He was used to dating women either his age or a bit younger, never older. But the Mexican intrigued him with the way her brown-lined lips always curled into a warm smile when greeting him or the way her hips swayed under the bright lights of a club after a successful race for Red Bull.

She had him curled around her finger. Everybody knew it, even she did.

If she was hanging out in the garage and wanted water? Max would rush to go and grab her one even if he was about to get in his car. If it's cold and windy outside? She’s immediately wrapped in his jacket. Her feet hurt from walking around in her expensive Jimmy Choos? He’ll carry her around in his arms.

It was no secret Max was fond of the younger Perez even though she was older. The other drivers, especially Lando, often teased him about the Dutch driver finding an older and experienced woman.

“Max found himself an older woman and never wants to be with us anymore!” The McLaren driver teased as he saw Max walking by with a pink smoothie in hand.

“You’re just jealous I found a girl.”

“I just don’t want to! Besides, I could find someone my own age.”

Max rolled his eyes as Charles, Daniel, and even a few other drivers started to make teasing remarks. “Age isn’t important anyways.” The Red Bull driver mumbled, mentally cursing at how his ears began to turn red.

He left the group quickly and huffed as he still heard their teasing when mentioning he had to give the strawberry smoothie to Y/n. Frankly, he couldn’t care about their teasing.

Y/n was older than him, yes. But he liked her, a lot. She was experienced, she knew her stuff. It was something he quickly learned late at night when he had her in his arms.

She traced the red lipstick marks on his neck with a long acrylic nail. There was a comfortable silence surrounding them as she quietly hummed a song.

“Max?” Her soft voice broke the silence.

Max simply hummed in reply. His eyes were closed as his head rested on the silky pillows.

“Does me being older not bother you?”

His eyes immediately opened, revealing the blue eyes she fell in love with. He leaned up and rested against the headboard. “What do you mean? I’ve told you countless times, that I don’t care. It’s only a few years, it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s just,” Y/n huffed. She rested her head against his bare chest as she looked up at him. “People talk, y’know.”

“No me importa.” [i don’t care] The sudden switch to Spanish made her heart warm up. She knew Max had been trying to learn, wanting to connect with her. He leaned down to place a kiss on her plump lips.

“No me importa que seas mayor que yo.” [i don’t care that you’re older than me]

[bengiyo]

Ben's Big BL Blurb 3: Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Blew It, But I Still Recommend It

I finished Blue Canvas of Youthful Days today, and I don’t like where we left off with this show. Let’s get into that, and then check in on some of the other shows I’m watching.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Didn’t Give the Audience Catharsis

I don’t begrudge the show going for a happy ending, given how so many other BLs from their home country end with sudden traumatic turns. However, I don’t feel like we got catharsis from the ending at all. I struggle to full articulate my frustration here, but I think I just really wanted an ending akin to Weekend (2011) or Gameboys 2 (2022).

I think these two were in a position where they were unable to be together now, and I think they should have ended on a separation. When Cairo and Gav had to separate at the end of Gameboys, it was the correct choice. They were still building their lives, and Gav wasn’t doing well on his on. Similarly, Blue Canvas established a scenario whereby Qi Lu did not have the power to stop his father from harming Qin Xiao. Likewise, Qin Xiao couldn’t keep the local gang from beating Qi Lu.

I would have preferred they have the boys confront that they were hiding things from each other, and how they both failed to protect each other from the horrors. I am disappointed that we didn’t get a poignant goodbye from them as they accept that they can’t be together right now. I wouldn’t have minded so much a blurb at the end of the show with the pitch for a season 2 that they didn’t get to film (though @thisonelikesaliens commentary makes even what they wrote dour). We didn’t confront the issue with the dad at all, and we didn’t deal with Qin Xiao losing all he’d worked for.

Genuinely, I would have been okay with them getting a tag at the end of the show with them seeing each other on the street again and sharing a meaningful look. However, we never saw them face the music of their double noble idiocy, and that sucks. It especially sucks because we had Let Free The Curse of Taekwondo this year, and so we saw the consequences of this. We could have had these two railing against the world and promising to see each other again. The tag at the end of the reuse of the fantasy sequence feels tacked on and unearned. That kinda sucks more.

Final Verdict: 8, Recommended With Reservations. I really liked most of this show, and I think they wrote some phenomenal characters until the finale here. Like @lurkingshan I ended up not pleased with this ending. I am disappointed in the lack of resolution about the withholding, and I think they needed to face the separation and goodbye. However, I really liked the cast, and I respect the team that worked so hard to get this to us.

On to the rest of the show, presented in no particular order…starting with the worst. I’ll put in parentheses what episode number I’m on as of this post.

Haunted Hearts is Boring (5/7)

Magic, mah friend! Your show is boring. I do not know why these boys won’t kiss, and at this point I feel like I don’t care anymore. They’re introducing yet another ghost next week and I just am so disinvested. I try so hard every time to support Oxin Films and Regal Entertainment, but they make it so fucking hard. Holy shit. There’s only so far the boys being cute can carry a thin concept like this.

City of Stars is Better Than I Expected (2/12)

I am catching up on this show. The acting isn’t great, but I’m really enjoying a lot of what’s happening here. I will report back when I finish.

See Your Love is Fun But Kinda Weird (7/13)

The visuals are great in this show, and the leads are filling in the aesthetic gap left behind by Jimmy and Tommy in a way that really works for me. There’s been way too many pratfalls in the last two episodes. We are at 1.5 pratfalls per episode at this point. The side couple is absolutely ridiculous. I’m having fun.

Caged Again is Becoming a Favorite (4/10)

Junior is the best protagonist of the year. I’m obsessed with this penguin boy. I love the way this show uses its supernatural elements to drive its storytelling forward, even if I think the plot got a little silly in episode 4. The friend group dynamics are so fun, and I haven’t enjoyed a group of Thai boys this much since Knock Knock, Boys! (no surprise, two of them are in this show, too).

Your Sky is a Weekly Delight (3/12)

The 2gether rewrite show is great, and I will be reading no commentary to the contrary. These boys are so great, and they are one of the best couples of the year. This show is doing fake dating in a way that’s just so excellent, because it’s real dating! The boys are genuinely trying to get know each other so they can pretend to be a better fake couple. This is so close to being excellent meta commentary about dating in the digital age, and how so much of dating for the current generation is about how others perceive the validity of your relationship. It’s actually so fun to watch a show where the characters are doing all the things you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to build something with someone, but one of them doesn’t fully understand what they’ve gotten into. This show is great, and I love it.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan is so Slick (5/10)

If there’s one thing a Japanese drama is going to get right it’s trauma! This show delivered on Kai’s horrors in a way that was so visceral that I needed to pause and catch a breath. I remain obsessed with the casting of Nagatsuma Reo as Kai, because he’s taller than Suzuki Asahi sometimes. I really love that they didn’t give us the BL height difference trope, and I like that they didn’t style Kai in a way to make him look more feminine. There’s a egalitarian physical balance between Fuma and Kai that I find extremely refreshing, considering the massive class, wealth, and suffering gap between the two characters. It’s no surprise that we’ve had a dearth of gifs of their sex scene, considering it doesn’t play to the kind of asymmetric aesthetics that folks seem enjoy in their pairings.

As always, the Rei and Kai friendship remains one of the best parts of this story, and I like the way this version of Sky talks to this version of Rain about the queer stuff. He feels like he’s being careful with his friend, and not just ghosting him on important conversations about his friend’s sexual awakening (one of my major gripes with the original Thai adaptation).

Our Youth is Taking Over My Brain (4/11)

I have not moved on from the “Infect me” line, and I am still obsessed with the plausible deniability of the “no homo” that Hirukawa relies upon as he continues to pursue Minase. Now that Minase has reached his breaking point, I’m so looking forward to seeing where we go next. We’re due for a major separation, and I’m ready for a Japanese BL to not fuck up a second chance romance attempt this time. Perhaps adapting Korean work could the solution?

Spare Me Your Mercy is a Welcome Return to the Sammon Feeling I Enjoy (1/10)

I just really love when Sammon shows feel like the mystery matters more than the romance, and this feels like it’s in the correct space. I loved the initial setup, and the potential for there to be multiple murderers. I really hope that they start killing younger people in this show, because they said there were only 40 palliative care patients, and we downed three of them in the first episode. I’m so happy to see JJ again, and Tor looks great. I am looking forward to the weekly watch and theorizing with this show. Most importantly, I’m looking forward to the complex meditation on euthanasia, which this story feels like it’s taking seriously.

Love is Like a Poison Finally has Given Us a BL Battle Couple Again (11/12)

We haven’t had a BL battle couple in what feels like forever. I love that this show continues to reward us for believing in Haruto and Shiba. Haruto’s dad is the absolute worst, and I really want him to lose. I love Shiba, and I love that the show continues to give him some of the visual tropes of a legal drama (like the pan up near the end). I’m in love with this show, and it’s going to be one of my favorites of the year, I’m sure.

Fragrance You Inherit Hurts Me Because Everyone is Doing The Right Thing (4/8)

This show is actually so painful sometimes, because no one is doing anything wrong. Everyone is being as emotionally honest as they can be with everyone they speak to about all of the things that are going on. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Sakura choosing to let go of her lingering crush on Mone now that they’re both moms and their kids are dating. Besides, we presume that Mone is still married! The conversation with On-chan makes me think that Mone misunderstood the relationship Sakura had with him in college (My man is ace but not aro! We love to see it).

I just really love that everyone is trying to do right by everyone around them, and I think all of the things that remain unspoken in this show have been withheld for completely valid reasons. There are no villains in this story, and that makes it even harder to watch really kind people treat each other politely in every scene. I’m just feeling a quiet scream in me the entire time I watch a good son by a thoughtful gift for his loving mother with the help of his supportive and lovely girlfriend, as he prepares a surprise from the old friend who clearly still cares about her friend and the unrequited/unexpressed feelings between them. This show is incredible. Go watch it right now. Thank you again to @isaksbestpillow.

Conclusion

That’s more shows than I’ve been watching in a while. It’s nice to have some Thai shows back in my rotation that I’m actually enjoying. I really want the Chinese to now fuck up their endings, but it seems like 2024 will not be that year. I’ll try to check in with the end of Love is Like a Poison when the Netflix release schedule completes so folks can binge it then. In the mean time, let me know what you’re enjoying, and what else I should consider picking up.

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

[msbigredmachine]

Butterscotch & Chocolate (Roman Reigns/OC/The Rock)

What’s better than a hunky, rich and powerful Samoan boyfriend? Why, two, of course! 😉🤤

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem reader/The Rock

Warnings: Smut, Threesome

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I planned to post this as far back as April at the peak of the Final Boss arc. Sorry I'm late 😭. Based on the Jimmy Fallon interview before Wrestlemania 40.

Enjoy!

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

It’s always amazing to witness your man’s ease in swapping personas for entertainment purposes. From the feral, bloodthirsty beast that rules the wrestling ring to the dapper, charming gentleman currently chatting it up with Jimmy Fallon on his late night talk show in Manhattan. Seeing up close how one of a kind Roman Reigns is, is something you never get tired of experiencing, whether it’s in the ring, in front of the media, or behind closed doors, specifically between the sheets…his favorite place to be with you. Now here you are, in a swanky dressing room in New York on a Wednesday night when you’d normally be at home, probably working. This is a welcome, more glamorous change of environment all thanks to your boyfriend.

He’s also made dinner plans for after the show, which is why you’re all dressed up in a daring little slip dress and a pair of open-toed stilettos, with your toenails painted white, his favorite color on your feet. The dress has a thigh-high slit, which is perfect because you want him to have full access to the goodies tonight. You wonder what he has planned afterwards. Are you fucking tonight? You’d better be. He’s been away from you for weeks, and FaceTime sex, as good as it is, is not sufficient for your horny little self. 

The door to the dressing room swings open and Roman walks in, a cute smile curving those lips you love to kiss. "All done! You ready, baby girl?" he asks.

The term of endearment coming from such a deep, whiskey-smooth tone like his always makes you shiver. You nod eagerly and get to your feet, smoothing out the sleek satin fabric of your dress. He makes his way to you, drinking in your appearance with smoldering eyes and a low whistle that warms your bronzed cheeks.

"I can’t get over how beautiful you look. Give Daddy a twirl, baby." He lifts your hand in the air, pleased as you oblige him, then tugs you close to meet his lips. You sigh softly as his free hand immediately finds your round derriere, giving it a generous squeeze. You love how you never seem to get enough of each other, always need to touch each other. 

And you’re not the only one who notices.

“Jesus Christ, get a room.”

Roman laughs softly against your mouth before turning his head with a happy grin. Your heart lurches inside your chest at the sound of the other deep voice, your cheeks growing warmer as your boyfriend's new partner in crime locks eyes with you from across the dressing room. You inwardly hope Roman cannot feel the shiver that caresses your skin.

Dwayne Johnson has more or less become part of your life since his Final Boss angle for Wrestlemania was signed off at the start of the year. The first time he showed up at Roman’s doorstep, you freaked out. It was The Rock, after all. You had a huge crush on him when you were younger and initially, you found his size and status intimidating. But he’s turned out to be a sweetheart, always checking up on you, providing support whenever you need it. He seems to genuinely care about you, and Roman thinks the world of him, too. But as your friendship deepens, so have your feelings. Though you’ve done a good job of keeping them at bay, it’s become more difficult each time he stares at you like he wants to fuck you where you stand, which is all the time now.

And secretly, you like it.

"We should get going guys, I'm getting pretty hungry…" Dwayne drawls. You don’t miss the heat in his eyes as they rake down your frame. You can’t help but stare back either; he looks incredible. The definition in his arms, chest and legs is on display through the silver satin of his garb. He and Roman are such babes; gorgeous, sophisticated older men that appeal highly to your tastes.

Your next destination is shrouded in mystery. You have no idea where you are going and Roman gives nothing away. Seated between the two huge men in the back of a sleek G63, you snuggle close to your boyfriend, sharing soft, sweet kisses with him and enjoying the comforting circles of his fingers on your hip. Dwayne seems to take the PDA in stride, accustomed to it. But feeling him so close makes you wish he can touch and caress you too.��

As Roman answers a phone call, you check on the other man, not wanting him to feel excluded. “You good, big guy? You’re quiet,” you say to Dwayne, resting your hand on his knee. You feel him tense at your touch, his eyes shutting for a brief moment.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry ‘bout lil ole me,” he simply answers, his hand brushing over the top of yours in a gesture intimate enough to send shivers of desire down your spine. If Roman notices the exchange, he doesn’t show it. 

The car eventually arrives at a harbor. The illuminated boardwalk welcomes you to a sizable boat and all its luxury. Roman’s much larger hand engulfs yours as he leads you onto the yacht, with Dwayne right behind you, most likely staring at your ass. A maitre'd guides you to an exquisite table set laden with the finest plates and cutlery that glint from the lanterns on the red tabletop. Soft music plays quietly in the background. The atmosphere reeks of opulence and romance. Your man knows how much you love the fancy, finer things, but this feels above and beyond, like a team effort pulled off specifically by the two men you're in the presence of.

Having an entire boat to oneself has its perks, particularly with the stellar service as well as not having to wait long for the food. Sat again between your boyfriend and your crush in the plush, booth-like seats, conversation flows easily among all three of you as you dine together. However, you observe that Dwayne sits much closer to you, on purpose too it seems, without the tight confines of a vehicle as a ready excuse. Roman is on your left, also pressed to your side. It’s not uncomfortable at all. You're in the middle of a very appetizing sandwich and you wonder, just for a second, if either man, or maybe both, would like a bite.

After your plates are taken away, Roman puts his arm around you, and you swoon when he links your fingers together and kisses the back of your hand. “You look so beautiful tonight, baby girl,” he gushes with a smile.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you respond. He’s been affectionate all evening, even more so than usual. He’s showered you with compliments, along with a bouquet of white roses and beautiful luxury jewelry, and you feel love-bombed in the best way. You wonder if there’s anything else in store tonight. Sex, you hope.

“I agree. Very beautiful,” Dwayne chimes in, surprising you. 

"I—" you stammer, looking at him, taken slightly aback by the intensity in his eyes. “Thank you.” 

Roman's hand moving down to squeeze your hip refocuses your attention on him. “So, babe…I know it’s been a long couple of months, and I’ve seen how hard you work at your job, yet you always manage to make time for me. Time for us. So I wanted to show you my appreciation by giving you something…extra special tonight." 

It's then that you feel it; a tension that was present before but has somehow heightened, a nagging feeling that you’re out of the loop on something, but it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is.

“Okay…” You glance back and forth between the two men, your eyes fixated on their Adam's Apples, fighting the urge to moan out loud at the sight of their strong throats working. You almost miss it, but Roman catches Dwayne’s eye, exchanging a knowing look. Something is definitely going on.

Then, in a move that totally stuns you, Dwayne reaches out to touch your cheek, running his thumb along your skin. Your body washes with heat at his unexpected caress, but common sense tries to prevail as your head snaps over to Roman, anticipating some kind of outburst at his cousin’s forwardness. But nothing comes. If anything, he looks…calm. Like he saw this coming.

"I know you want Dwayne, baby. I’ve known for a while,” Roman says softly, and your heart drops. Have you been that obvious? Did you do something or say something that gave you away? As you frantically wrack your brain for an answer, his next words catch you completely off guard, even more so when he smiles. “And it turns out, he wants you too.”

"W-what?" What is going on?! 

"It’s okay, my love," Roman shushes you gently, brushing his thumb back and forth across your lips. “I don't mind at all. It just shows that my cousin got good taste. And speaking of taste…”

“Roman and I talked, and we decided we want to give you exactly what you want,” Dwayne interjects. He’s smiling, making him even more attractive if that’s even possible. He puts his hand over your own, his light brown eyes piercing your soul. “We want to please you, sweetheart. Together. And not just tonight, but every other night.”

“We wanna take care of you, baby,” Roman continues. “We’re yours now, and you’re ours. You call on me, or him, or both of us, for anything you need, and we’ll be there.”

You’re at a loss for words. This has to be one of your wet dreams gone haywire. Now acutely aware that you’re firmly trapped between them, you gulp audibly, feeling nowhere near as brave as you usually do when you find yourself in this position in your fantasies. Flustered, you grab your glass of wine and knock it back in one go, almost coughing as the strong alcohol burns your throat in protest. “Are…are you sure?” 

“Positive. But only if you’re sure that this is what you want, too,” Roman assures you.

Dwayne nods in agreement, and you break into a slight sweat despite the outdoor sea breeze, blowing out a breath as you fan yourself. These last few minutes have honestly left you shook. But the fact that they’ve essentially confessed that they both want you is a huge turn-on. They’re the most beautiful men that you’ve ever laid eyes on, and you feel honored that they feel so strongly about you. 

Emboldened by this, along with the influx of alcohol in your system, you straighten in your seat and turn to the Great One with your most seductive expression. “Anything, huh? Well then, I just got one question, Mr Final Boss.” You trace your index finger from his torso along his broad chest, and stop at his bottom lip. “What dat mouth do?”

Dwayne smirks, purses his lips against your finger. “How ‘bout you come closer and find out?” he retorts.

Your eyes widen, your courage wavering. “Right here? Now? But what about…” You wave your hand around, reminding them that you’re not exactly alone on this boat.

“There’s a reason you ain’t seen nobody in a minute,” says Dwayne as Roman grins slyly, “They show up when we tell them to.” 

Power.

You glance over at your boyfriend again, seeking, needing his consent. As tantalizing as all this is, you can’t do this without him. He merely stares back at you, his eyes cloudy with that familiar look of lust you’ve seen so many times. “Go ahead,” he encourages. He seems mesmerized by what’s unfolding before him. 

Dwayne tilts your chin up, studying every little detail and emotion on your face, seeing right through the bravado. "I bet you taste incredible..." His hands span the length of your sides, holding you in place as he kisses your lips. His are surprisingly soft, moving gently against yours, taking his sweet time to enjoy your sweet taste. You press your body closer to his and run your hands up his smooth, shaven face, moaning into his mouth when his tongue whips skillfully against yours.

Behind you, Roman’s large hands are on your shoulders, massaging away the tension he knows is there. He knows your body so well. It helps you relax more and savor the firm pressure of Dwayne’s mouth. His kiss is different from Roman’s yet just as intoxicating. You gasp when his hands slides down your body, caressing your chest with care and attention. A sigh escapes you as Roman’s lips meet your shoulder. Right away your head lolls to the side, encouraging him to explore like he likes to. In the meantime, Dwayne has navigated underneath your dress and is parting your inner thighs, stroking the soft skin dangerously close to your apex. Warmth spreads throughout your body, ignited by their kisses, their touches, the knowledge that two beautiful, powerful men want you as much as they do. It’s an overwhelming feeling, scary even, yet it's all you want to feel from here on out. 

A startled moan bursts from you when Roman bites down on your skin. It’s a familiar, pleasurable pain, one that makes you squeeze your thighs together. But Dwayne is not having it, nudging them back apart with his big hand. Both men are in complete control and obviously aim to make you lose yours. As Roman makes out with your throat, Dwayne fingers the straps of your low cut dress, easing the material down your arms, exposing your ample bosom inch by inch. Instinctively, your hands rise to cover yourself, but he catches your wrists before you can and holds them down.

"Don't hide, baby, let him see how pretty you are," Roman rasps in your ear, nuzzling his beard against your cheek. You shift restlessly, the throbbing between your legs intensifying with every passing second. You’ve daydreamed about a moment like this more times than you can count, and now it’s actually happening, with more to come. 

What is life?

"Good girl," Roman smiles, watching Dwayne kiss on the swells of your heavy breasts spilling over your red lace bra. He drags your dress down further, resting it beneath your breasts. As you thank your lucky stars for opting to wear your prettiest bra tonight, Dwayne pinches your nipples through the lace, making you gasp out, your head tilting back with pleasure. He groans his approval as he pulls the bra cups down and kneads your naked breasts with firm, eager hands, the skin on skin contact sending shockwaves to your core. "Damn, girl. Look at them perfect titties," he praises.

"They nice, huh Uce," Roman purrs, his breath fanning your cheek, his hungry eyes affixed on your exposed chest with a growl that sends a flood of heat through your loins. Your back arches against your man's strong chest. You’re unbelievably wet, the lace of your panties already soaked through and clinging to your pussy lips. Roman takes over toying with your nipples while Dwayne descends, moving your dress up to your stomach as he comes face to face with your lace-covered treasure. 

"What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me," Dwayne kisses your belly, looking up at you from where he’s now crouched down on the floor. The view before you leaves you on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Dwayne fucking Johnson. On his knees. Asking you what you want. Good lord.

"I…I want you to eat my pussy," you manage to gasp.

The two men laugh, Roman’s deep chuckle vibrating through your half-naked body. "I think he can do that," he whispers, sucking your earlobe into his warm, wet mouth that has you panting out an expletive or two. Dwayne tugs at the waistband of your panties, prompting you to lift your hips so he can pull them off, rendering you open and exposed. You’re practically on Roman’s lap now, and you hear him moan as your ass wiggles directly on his crotch. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you reach up to grab his head, running your fingers through the silky locks of his hair, watching through heavy eyelids as Dwayne rubs two fingers along your slit. Roman refocuses on massaging your chest with those big hands of his. "So perfect," he mumbles into your hair, “The things I wanna do to you right now…”

Beneath you, Dwayne dips down to drag his tongue along your folds, tasting you for the first time. "Oh yeah, wayyy better than I imagined," he murmurs against your sensitive flesh, the small movements of his mouth making your pussy clench tight in anticipation. Not to be outdone, Roman gathers your breasts in his palms and grinds his hips against your ass. His thick, hardened length rubbing against your backside feels amazing. With a moan, you lift your head up for a kiss. He plunges his tongue in your mouth, dancing sloppily and noisily with yours, demanding the same energy you're receiving.

As you're caught up in Roman’s oral skills, the People’s champion decides to demonstrate his. He pushes his tongue deep inside of you, somehow managing to synchronize with Roman’s, filling both ends of your body. You find yourself also gripping the back of Dwayne’s head as he flicks his tongue against your folds rapidly, reminiscent of the way he utters his famous 'If You Smell...' catchphrase. The sensation has you crying out his name and your eyes rolling back. Then, he proceeds to trap your clit between his lips and suck heartily, then lap the protruding little nub and work it in circles.

"Oh my god," your voice cracks in a sob as he pushes your legs further back, spreading you wider, allowing him better access. The man is deep-diving in your pussy, feasting, as though the stuffed lobster he consumed just minutes ago was not satisfying enough. Your body is electric, your pussy spasming every few seconds as ecstasy beckons. His tongue is magical, and combined with the expert attention that Roman is providing, it’s almost too much to bear, so much so that you’re forced to tear your lips away from Roman's, moaning and panting heavily, your wide, hazy eyes staring up at him with a look of shock and almost helplessness from the barrage of pleasure.

The lust in the Tribal Chief's eyes as he stares right back reflects yours, and he keeps twisting your nipples, making you twitch and squirm in his arms. "You gon' come for us like a good girl," His voice is low and rough with desire, emphasizing his command with a particularly sharp pinch to your swollen, sensitive nipple that makes you squeal. "Come in his mouth, babe, make him taste every drop of that sweet ass pussy…"

On cue, Dwayne suddenly begins sucking you hard. Firm. His mouth wet and hungry, determined that you give them exactly what they want. He slips two long, thick fingers inside your dripping core, curling and twisting them, pumping them roughly inside you, and you’re gone. It knocks you silly, your nut, and your eyes squeeze shut as you scream, pussy clamping down on Dwayne's fingers, hips jerking on his face, Roman having to anchor you down as the pleasure ravages you. Dwayne never takes his eyes off the euphoria washing over your beautiful face, lapping up everything that pours from your weeping pussy. Roman lowers his hand between your thighs, swiping at your mess and bringing it to his mouth, groaning pleasurably at your taste he’s since known he can never get enough of. 

"Mmm. Good girl," he murmurs against your throat, hugging your waist as you float down from your incredible high. His kiss on your cheek is soothing, loving. Proud. “You did so good for us, my love.”

It takes you a good thirty seconds to open your eyes, and you’re met with the most amazingly erotic sight. Dwayne’s handsome face smeared with your essence, his tongue gathering the remnants of your orgasm into his mouth. "I think that’s all the dessert I need tonight. I can eat your pussy forever, baby," he smirks up at you.

You feel yourself blushing profusely, retreating to your shy ways. "That was…unbelievable," you breathe, amazed that you can even speak.

"That's what we like to hear," Dwayne smiles, standing up and sitting back next to you. He draws your dress back down and makes a show of tucking your discarded panties into his back pocket. “That’s mine now,” he announces with a haughty wink and a shit-eating grin, and you’re certain you’re wet all over again. He tugs your bra and the rest of your dress back into place, patting your breasts fondly before kissing you softly. You can taste yourself all over his mouth and it’s the hottest thing ever.

"Um, would you like me to return the favor, Daddy? I can," you ask, already rubbing on both their thighs, your voice small and hopeful.

Chuckling at your newfound neediness, Roman swoops down to steal a kiss, "No, baby. At least not yet. This was all about you."

Damn. It feels unfair to not reciprocate such a tremendous gift, so you insist. You’ll be damned if this ends here. "Fine, maybe not here. But when we’re back on dry land, I’m fucking the shit outta you," you tell Roman, grabbing his chin and sealing your promise with a sensual, breathless kiss to his lips. You do the exact same thing to Dwayne, determination shining through the lust in your eyes, “Both of you.”

THE END

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

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[f1amour]

Hi!!! Could i request a 🍮 with verstappen that have “don’t you care about me at all?” Like angst but with a happy ending. Thank you!!!

❝ don’t you care about me at all? ❞ — max verstappen

pairing | max verstappen x reader

content warnings | angst, comfort, happy ending

★ join my short n sweet friendsgiving!

─────────────────────────

you watch him sleep peacefully while your mind is filled with negative thoughts; did he love you? why was he pushing you away? had you done something? it hadn’t been the best season only the first half was great then the car started having problems and then battling for the championship with lando it wasn’t easy. so you understand the stress he had and tried your best to be there for him but he’d push you away everytime.

he had a rough race? you’d be there ready to give him your supportive words and touch he used to love but it’s now turned into quick side hugs and kisses on the cheek. from flying to most of the races with him turned into staying at home taking care of jimmy and sassy and watching the race on the tv screen.

you put your slippers on and walked off onto your balcony as the sun was rising. you didn’t realize how much time passed as max walks out in his workout clothes saying he would be going to the gym with his trainer, “okay,” you mutter, your eyes still set on the view avoiding his eyes as best as you can. going to the gym when you have a home gym right here? but the words never come out and he leaves.

“she didn’t even look at me just said okay and that’s all. she’s always up early make breakfast and my smoothie always ready but i woke up to an empty bed. thought she wanted to spend the break together as much as we can.” max tells his trainer as they finished up their workout. max left the apartment confused from the cold shoulder you’d given him, “i mean, you haven’t let her join you the last few races you’ve had. it could be that? or the fact she’s always checking up on your through the team because you never tell her anything other than fine everytime she asks how you are doing and the car.” his trainer knocks him out of this trance he’s had for months now as he realizes what he had been doing.

that’s why he stands in the kitchen with your favorite flowers on the counter and take out food ready to talk and apologize but you don’t come after he calls for your name. he walks to your bedroom and you are nowhere to be seen until he reaches the balcony and he realizes you’ve been sitting in your same spot you were on when he had left. “schatje? why are you still out here? it’s freezing—.”

“don’t you care about me at all?” you finally look at him, your eyes red and swollen after crying for hours and in that moment his heart breaks because he was breaking yours. “seriously max, what am i to you? it feels like we’re just roommates who sleep in the same bed and that’s all. i tried. i tried to be the supportive girlfriend but you…you push me away. you talk to everyone but me. i care about you, so why don’t you care about me?”

max sits besides you and wipes your tears away before he kisses your head but you just push him away, “i deserve that. i deserve whatever anger you feel towards me right now. i do care about you. i may not have shown it recently and i am sorry for that, baby. i’ve been so frustrated with the car and with myself that i couldn’t bare for you to see me like this. you’ve been there since my first championship and now that it could be in jeopardy…i don’t you to see me fail,” he whispers, his feelings valid but it leaves you confused why he couldn’t tell you all this.

“so why push me away like that, max? i supported you at your best and at your worst. with or without a championship i’m gonna be by your side always. but you need to let me in all the way. you have you talk to me when you feel this way and i should have done the same—.”

“no. that wasn’t your fault. i was a very shitty boyfriend so i understand why you felt you couldn’t talk to me. i’m so so sorry, my love. i promise from now on i’ll communicate more,” he promises and you raise your eyebrows expecting more, “and let me go to races again? cant believe you used jimmy and sassy as a pawn for me not going to any.” your pout that makes him chuckle has the mood feeling lighter now.

“i was fucking miserable without you. never again.” he mumbles against your neck as you wrap your arms around him. “i’ve got your favorite food and flowers waiting in the kitchen for you, i love you”

“i love you. you’re the bestest…next time though if you ever say i can’t go to a race i’ll show up with the mercedes team.” you threaten with a smile on your face.

“okay now that is mean.”

[rootedinrevisions]

Let's Find Out Together

SUMMARY: After a painful breakup, you turn to Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, your longtime friend, for support. But as he steps in to help you heal, he reveals that he’s been harboring feelings for you all along. What starts as a comforting distraction quickly turns into an intense, unexpected connection that blurs the line between friendship and something more. Now, as the sparks fly, you're left questioning everything you thought you knew about love, friendship, and passion.

A/N: Thank you to the Anon who sent this request in! this was a fun one to write! I hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "What do you like?" "I don't know." "Well, then how about we find out together?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. (Biting, Marking, Oral Female Receiving)

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual buzz—boots scuffed against the wooden floors, laughter echoed from the pool table, and the jukebox played a classic rock song that you barely registered. You sat at the bar, staring down into the bottom of your glass like it might hold the answers to every question rattling around in your head.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice from behind you.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw slid onto the stool beside you, his presence like a balm for your frayed nerves. His aviators hung from the neckline of his shirt, and his easy smile faded the moment he got a good look at your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer now, concerned.

You tried to muster a reassuring smile but knew it fell flat. “Nothing. Just… a long day.”

He wasn’t buying it. Bradley had known you long enough to spot when something was bothering you. His brow furrowed as he leaned in closer, his voice low. “Come on. It’s me. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass. Then, with a quiet sigh, you admitted, “I broke up with Derek.”

Bradley’s expression flickered—something unreadable passed over his face, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. He took a moment, then asked, “What happened?”

You swallowed, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I caught him cheating on me.”

Bradley’s hand clenched around his beer bottle, his jaw tightening. “That asshole,” he muttered under his breath, then louder, “He can go screw himself.”

You snorted at his bluntness, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. Bradley’s intensity softened as he looked back at you.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone gentler now. “You deserve better than that. Better than him.”

“Yeah, right,” you replied with a hollow laugh. “Good guys aren’t as common as they used to be.”

Bradley shrugged casually, but his lips twitched into a small smile. “I think I’m a pretty good guy.”

You blinked, caught off guard, then smiled at him. “Yeah, you are. One of the best, actually.”

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the bar. “Then let me take you on a date.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. “Bradley…”

His brown eyes held yours, steady and earnest. “I mean it. Let me take you out.”

“You don’t mean it,” you said, shaking your head, though your pulse quickened at the thought.

“I do,” he countered, his voice unwavering. “I’ve liked you for a while. But you were with Derek, and I wasn’t going to get in the way of that. Now that you’re not…” He trailed off, his gaze softening. “I just want to show you how you should’ve been treated all along.”

Your heart twisted at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t process how Bradley—your steady, dependable Bradley—was suddenly baring his feelings to you like this.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted quietly.

“Say yes,” he said simply.

Your lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. 

“Okay,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His face lit up, and he reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against yours where they rested on the bar. The touch was tentative, warm, and for the first time that night, you felt the weight on your chest ease just a little.

“Let me take you home,” he said. “You’ve had enough of this place for one night.”

You nodded, letting him help you off the stool. As he led you toward the door, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of something you’d been too blind to see before.

The drive back to your place was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine filling the space as you leaned back in your seat, watching the lights of the town blur past. Bradley’s hand rested casually on the gearshift, his fingers drumming lightly against it in time with the song playing low on the radio.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, “is this you taking me home and tucking me in? Or is this you taking me home?”

Beside you, Bradley’s lips twitched into a grin, though he kept his eyes on the road. “Depends,” he said smoothly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “What do you want it to be?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked.” His tone was light, teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something more—something that made your stomach flip.

“Just so you know,” you said, folding your arms across your chest in mock indignation, “you’re terrible at tucking people in. I seem to remember you leaving me to sleep on a couch last New Year’s while you stole my blanket.”

Bradley laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “First of all, that blanket was fair game. Second, you’re the one who insisted on watching that terrible rom-com marathon. I was being a good friend by suffering through it.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Suffering? You cried during The Notebook.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Fine. Maybe I got something in my eye. A guy can be moved by powerful cinema without crying, you know.”

“Sure, Brad,” you said, unable to keep the smile off your face.

The banter continued, easy and familiar, until he pulled up outside your place. He shifted the car into park but didn’t immediately move to unbuckle his seatbelt. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes searched yours.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice low, “it’s up to you. I meant what I said back there. I’m not in a rush. I just want to be here for you.”

Your smile faded into something gentler as the weight of his words settled over you. “I know, Bradley. And… I appreciate it.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air in the car thick with something unspoken. Then you reached for the door handle, breaking the spell.

“You coming in, or are you going to sleep in the car?” you asked, your tone teasing but your heart pounding.

Bradley grinned, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You know I’m not letting you go in there without company.”

You reached your front door, fishing your keys out of your bag, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Bradley trailed behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. As you tried to slot the key into the lock, your hands trembled—whether from the chill or the way your heart was racing, you weren’t sure.

Before you could get the door open, you felt him. Bradley’s hands slid gently around your waist, his touch tentative at first, as though giving you the chance to pull away. When you didn’t, he pulled you closer, his chest pressing against your back.

“Bradley…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

His only response was to lean down, his lips brushing softly against the curve of your neck. The first kiss was light, testing, a feather-soft touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The second lingered longer, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his voice low and husky against your neck.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. “Yeah,” you hummed, the word barely audible.

You swore you felt him smile against your skin before he continued, his kisses growing bolder, more insistent. His lips trailed down the side of your neck, tracing a path toward your shoulder. His hands splayed across your stomach, anchoring you to him as his mouth moved lower.

Every kiss sent a wave of warmth through you, the world outside your little bubble fading away.

“Bradley…” His name slipped from your lips, half a sigh, half a plea, though you weren’t even sure what you were asking for.

He hummed in response, his lips still trailing over your skin. His touch wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was deliberate, reverent, as though he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than he cared to admit.

You turned your head slightly, trying to catch his gaze, but he paused, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he spoke. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said softly.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you turned fully in his arms, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest. His brown eyes searched yours, and whatever he saw there must have been enough, because his lips were on yours a moment later, warm and sure, pulling you even closer.

Bradley’s lips never left yours as his hands moved down your back, his fingers grazing over the curve of your hips before gripping your thighs. With an effortless motion, he lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support.

Your breath hitched as he adjusted his hold, steady and sure, like he’d done this a hundred times in his mind. The strength in his arms sent a shiver through you, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered how he managed to make it all look so seamless.

Still cradling you securely, Bradley leaned back just enough to reach behind you, pushing your door open with one hand. The kiss never faltered, his lips still moving against yours in a way that made your head spin. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, his boots echoing softly against the hardwood.

With a swift motion, he kicked the door shut behind him, the solid thunk of it closing grounding you in the moment. Then he turned, pressing your back gently against the wall, his body pinning yours in place.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly as his lips traveled down, brushing over your jawline and back to your mouth. The intensity of his kiss deepened as his tongue slipped past your lips, teasing, exploring, drawing a soft moan from your throat that you couldn’t hold back.

Bradley’s hands slid down your sides, his touch leaving trails of heat in its wake. When they settled on your waist, his thumbs stroked slow, deliberate circles against your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way he held you—firm but gentle, steady but utterly consuming—made your pulse race.

Every movement, every touch, felt purposeful, like he was trying to show you with his hands and mouth everything he hadn’t yet said out loud.

“Bradley,” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless and shaky.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips brushing yours as he paused just long enough to look at you, his brown eyes dark and full of something that made your stomach flutter.

You couldn’t form the words, but he didn’t seem to need them. Instead, he dipped his head again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss that left no room for doubt about how he felt—or how much he wanted you.

Bradley pulled back just enough to break the kiss, his lips hovering near yours as his warm breath brushed your skin. His hands still rested on your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your sides as his eyes searched yours with a mixture of mischief and heat.

“So,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “do you still want me to just tuck you in?”

The question made your pulse quicken, but instead of faltering, a surge of boldness rose within you. Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging his head back gently but firmly, exposing the strong line of his throat. His lips parted slightly, and a low groan rumbled in his chest, the sound sending a shiver through you.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing the edge of his jaw as you whispered, “I want you, Bradley.”

His reaction was immediate. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer against him as his eyes darkened with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that,” he muttered, his voice rough and full of unspoken desire.

Without another word, he shifted you in his arms with ease, his hold on you unwavering as he stepped back from the wall. Your legs tightened instinctively around his waist, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he turned and started down the hallway.

The journey to your bedroom felt electric, every step punctuated by the tension between you. Bradley’s grip on you was sure and steady, his strength making you feel both weightless and completely grounded.

As he reached the door to your room, he paused, glancing at you with a small, almost cocky smirk. “Last chance to back out,” he teased, though his voice held a note of seriousness beneath the playfulness.

Your response was simple: you leaned forward and kissed him, pouring every ounce of your pent-up feelings into it. That was all the answer he needed.

With a quiet chuckle, he carried you over the threshold, his lips finding yours again as he stepped inside and nudged the door closed behind him with his foot.

Bradley walked you over to the bed, his movements careful and deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second. Gently, he lowered you onto the soft mattress, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he leaned over you. The room felt still, save for the quiet rustle of sheets beneath you and the sound of your own uneven breathing.

He braced himself on one arm, his other hand brushing a strand of hair from your face as his lips met yours again. The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. Then his mouth began to travel, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and back down to your neck.

Between kisses, his voice came out low and teasing. “What do you like?”

The question caught you off guard, and you froze for a moment, your mind blanking under the weight of it. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bradley stilled, his lips hovering just above your collarbone. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly.

“You’ve... you’ve done this before, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with an awkward uncertainty.

A laugh bubbled out of you, breaking the tension. “Yes, I’ve slept with people before,” you said, your tone light and reassuring. “It’s just... all the guys I’ve been with only ever did missionary.”

His expression shifted instantly. First, his eyes widened in disbelief, and for a split second, you thought he might be about to argue. But then his lips curled into a slow, confident smirk, the kind that made your pulse race.

“Missionary,” he repeated, the word almost incredulous. “That’s it?”

You shrugged, a mix of embarrassment and amusement bubbling in your chest.

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, teasing murmur. “Well, then... how about we find out together?”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours again, and his hands began to explore, sliding over your sides and down to your thighs.

Bradley’s fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice steady but laced with anticipation.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

With deliberate care, he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, his hands brushing against your skin as he did. The warmth of his touch lingered, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze didn’t waver as it roamed over you, and the look in his eyes made you feel more seen—and more desired—than you ever had before.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice reverent but with an edge of heat that made your cheeks flush. His hands moved to the waistband of your jeans next, his thumbs hooking into the fabric as he paused to look at you again. “Still okay?”

You nodded again, your voice catching in your throat.

He made quick work of the button and zipper, easing the denim down your legs and leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. He straightened, his gaze sweeping over you as you lay back against the pillows.

“God,” he breathed, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so beautiful. No... you’re sexy.”

The compliment hit you like a spark, and for a moment, you wondered why you had never let yourself see Bradley like this before. He wasn’t just your dependable, loyal friend. He was this—sweet, confident, and undeniably attractive.

He knelt back down, his hands gently trailing up your thighs as he leaned in. “You tell me if there’s anything you don’t like,” he reminded you, his voice soft but firm.

“I will,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His lips found your neck again, pressing gentle, lingering kisses against your skin. Then you felt his teeth graze your neck—a new sensation, one that sent a jolt through you. Before you could process it, he bit down gently, and you gasped, the sound escaping you unbidden.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “You like that?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Do you want me to do it again? Do you want me to mark you?”

You nodded quickly, your breath hitching. “Yes. I want to be yours.”

The words barely left your lips before he leaned in again, his teeth sinking into your neck just enough to sting, followed by the soothing press of his mouth as he sucked on the tender skin. The sensation was unlike anything you’d felt before—electric, heady, and intimate. When he pulled away, you could feel the heat of his gaze as he admired the dark mark he’d left.

Bradley smirked, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face as he leaned in to kiss you. “Can’t wait to see what you look like with those all over,” he whispered, his tone filled with a promise that made your pulse race.

You couldn’t help but smirk back at him, a boldness blooming in your chest. “Where else do you want to put one?”

His eyes darkened with a mix of mischief and intent, and his smirk widened. Without another word, he lowered his head, his lips trailing along your collarbones before dipping lower, stopping just above your breasts.

He paused for a moment, looking up at you as if to ask for permission. You gave him a small nod, and he bit down again, his mouth working to leave another mark, this time on the skin between your breasts.

The sensation sent another wave of heat coursing through you, and when he pulled back, his expression was pure satisfaction as he admired his work. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Bradley's hands slid up your sides, his thumbs grazing the edge of your bra. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, silently asking for permission. When you gave him a slight nod, he reached behind you with practiced ease, unhooking the clasp and gently sliding the straps down your shoulders.

The garment fell away, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his gaze filled with reverence and hunger that made your skin flush.

One of his hands moved to cup your breast, his palm warm against your skin as his fingers squeezed gently, exploring. The sensation was new, different, and surprisingly intoxicating. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your skin before his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.

The feeling sent a jolt of electricity through you. No one had ever paid much attention to your chest before; past partners had always been more focused elsewhere, making offhand comments about your body that left you feeling unbalanced. But this—Bradley’s touch, his mouth—was deliberate and consuming as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Then you felt his teeth, a brief, unexpected pressure that made you gasp, your back arching as you unconsciously pushed your chest further into his mouth.

Bradley hummed against you, his lips curving into a smirk as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. 

“You like that,” he murmured, not as a question but a quiet declaration.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, your voice too tangled in the haze of sensation to respond properly.

He didn’t wait for words. He pulled away, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he shifted to your other breast. His hand replaced his mouth, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers while his lips found their target. This time, he didn’t hesitate, biting down gently but firmly, drawing another involuntary gasp from you.

The sound made something flicker in his eyes—satisfaction, excitement, and a hint of possessiveness. His tongue swept over the spot he’d bitten, his mouth working with a combination of suction and teasing flicks that had your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Bradley pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he looked up at you. “I love hearing those sounds you make,” he said softly, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver through you. His hands slid down to rest on your waist again, grounding you as his lips brushed a gentle kiss against the curve of your breast. “I’ve got so much more I want to show you.”

Bradley’s eyes never left yours as he slowly made his way down your body, his lips brushing over your skin with a slow, deliberate pace. His hands were gentle but firm, guiding you closer to the edge of something new and thrilling. When he finally positioned himself between your legs, his gaze flickered up to meet yours once more.

He smiled, a look of both excitement and admiration in his eyes. “I can’t wait to hear the sounds you make when I do thi,” he said, his voice low and husky. The weight of his words settled heavily between you, making your heart race.

You swallowed, your breath hitching slightly as he traced his fingers along your thighs, his touch light and teasing. His lips followed, pressing a soft kiss to one thigh before moving to the other, a trail of warmth in his wake. Then, with a careful touch, he slid your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you feeling exposed, but strangely safe in his hands.

He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, before lowering himself further. The air between you two was thick with anticipation. His hands gently caressed your hips, grounding you as his lips finally reached your center.

The moment his mouth made contact, your body jolted with the sensation, a sharp intake of breath escaping you as you arched into him, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

Bradley was slow, methodical, taking his time to explore and bring you closer to the edge. Every touch, every movement was carefully tuned to your reactions. He wasn’t just trying to make you feel good—he wanted to know what made you tick, to learn the rhythm of your body in a way no one else had before.

Bradley’s focus never wavered as he continued his work, taking his time to explore, making sure every movement was deliberate and sure. Each kiss, each touch, each gentle caress sent shivers through your body, and you couldn’t stop the quiet gasps that escaped your lips as you reacted to him.

He shifted slightly, and his movements grew more confident. His lips found that sweet spot, the one that made your breath catch, and when he applied a little more pressure, a moan slipped from you—louder than you’d intended, and unmistakably full of need.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but then Bradley��s voice, low and full of approval, reached your ears.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smile against your skin. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He repeated the motion, coaxing another breathy moan from you. The sound was so raw, so genuine, it made him groan in return.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your body arching further into him as the sensations built. “Bradley…” you moaned, almost too loudly, your eyes squeezing shut as a wave of heat coursed through you.

He growled in approval, the sound so deep that it sent a rush of excitement through your veins. “You sound so good, baby. Keep letting me know how you’re feeling.”

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers threading through it, gripping him closer. The intensity in his gaze grew, and the way he praised you made you feel both empowered and desired in a way you’d never experienced before. You felt your body reacting to him, to his touch, to the way he made you feel so seen, so good.

Every movement he made, every sound you gave him, only fueled the connection between you two. This wasn’t just physical—it was raw, emotional, a dance of vulnerability and trust. And Bradley loved hearing you like this, loved knowing he was the one who could make you feel this way.

Every touch, every flick of his tongue, every deliberate movement made your entire body hum with need. You felt yourself coming undone, the sensations overwhelming as your breath hitched and your body responded to him.

Then, with one final, deliberate motion, Bradley pushed you over the edge. Your back arched as the release washed over you, your body trembling in waves of pleasure. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a low moan, as the intensity of the moment left you breathless, unable to form words. It was the first time a guy had made you finish just with his mouth and hands, and it left you gasping, completely undone.

Bradley’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as he crawled back up the bed, his hands gently brushing the hair away from your face. His eyes were soft with affection, his gaze intense as he looked down at you, making sure you were okay. 

“You alright?” he asked, his voice hushed, a mix of concern and pride.

You nodded, still panting slightly, the aftermath of the orgasm leaving you weak but content. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, your voice unsteady. “I’m… I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Bradley chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you gently, a tender contrast to the intensity of the moments before. “I’m glad I could give that to you,” he said, his voice warm and full of sincerity.

You smiled up at him, feeling a mix of vulnerability and comfort, knowing that this moment was something you’d never forget. His presence, the way he made you feel, was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

Bradley settled beside you, keeping you close, his hand resting on your waist as he held you. Bradley’s hand gently traced patterns on your skin as he settled next to you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. 

“So, what do you want to try next?” he asked, his voice low, a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You blinked up at him, feeling a newfound boldness. Without missing a beat, you shot him a playful smirk. “I want to ride you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before Bradley’s eyes darkened, his breath hitching at the unexpectedness of your response. A grin spread across his face, his hands moving quickly as he pulled you on top of him, your bodies aligning with a hunger that was only growing. 

“Damn, baby,” he groaned, the thought of you in control sending heat shooting through his veins. 

You both shared a laugh, the playful tension still crackling in the air, before the moment turned more serious again. But this time, there was no question—the night was only just beginning.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER TWO

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @patscorner @wbbgetsmewetter @makethemhoesmad @authentic-girl03 @rosemariiaa

kalena speakss 🪽! wanted to give yall another chapter tonight since college is kicking my butt atm and idk when the next update will be. hopefully soon tho!

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California 

“I just don’t see why you keep acting like our relationship doesn’t matter. I'm tired of acting like it doesn’t piss me off.” Julian spoke, disrupting the peace I had created for myself as I got dressed in the bathroom.

We were supposed to be getting ready for the Sparks home opener game against the Dallas Wings. I was exhausted from getting into LAX at an ungodly hour of the night, and now the conversation was giving me a headache.

“Ju, are we together?”

“Yes—”

“Did you ask me to be your girlfriend?” I turn around, slipping the mini gold hoops in my hand into my ears.

“No, but—”

I cut him off before he gets the chance to defend his position. “Then we’re not together.” I sigh. “I like where this is going, I really do, but we can’t keep having this conversation, Julian. I’m tired of it. This is just the way my career is working out right now.”

“So what? You make more money when the public thinks you’re single?” Julian asks. He’s very visibly frustrated, as he has been since before I even stepped off the stage in New York.

“No. I make more money when I keep the main thing the main thing. And right now the main thing is my music.” The words bounce off the wall for a moment, silence cutting through the air. I feel bad. He really is a great guy, and I hate to put him in a position like this, but it’s the way it has to be. “Ju’ come on. You have to understand where I’m coming from. I’m sorry.”

My hand reaches out for his shoulder, attempting to lessen the blow. Instead he steps back from me, shaking his head with a huff and leaving the bathroom. 

“Have fun at the game, ‘Raye.” He speaks as he leaves, and it’s my turn to huff.

I turned around. Looking intently at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

This is the closest thing I’ve had to a relationship in years, and yet, I’m spending the majority of it fighting over something dumb. But is it really dumb, or am I being insensitive?

I really do like Julian. He’s funny and sweet, he never fails to go out of his way to support me; I mean he just caught a flight to see me on Jimmy Fallon. He buys me flowers, he cares about communication, and all the little things. But for some reason I Just can’t keep up with it. 

It sucks.

—

May 2025 — Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, California 

The atmosphere in the arena is booming, and oddly enough I find myself surprised at how many people have filled Crypto. I’m seated courtside, underneath the basket nearest to The Sparks bench. The game is halfway through the first quarter and at a timeout when I take my seat. 

I have on a burgundy leather set from Fashion Nova. The shirt is a cropped button up that I only fastened at the bottom button and matching shorts. I’m wearing a pair of matching burgundy Prada slingback pumps that my recent success has gratefully allowed me to purchase. 

I sent a last minute text to my sister, telling her that Julian bailed and I would love it if she joined me, hence the slight tardiness. 

I’ve never seen Cassie as excited as she is right now. She’s beaming with energy, you would’ve thought she’s been planning this for months rather than being invited last minute. She’s for sure more of a basketball fan than I am, I credit that to my uncle. Whereas my dad made me more of a football fan.

“You’re gonna be getting infinite Christmas gifts this year for this, oh my God.” Cassie jokes with a kool aid smile on her face. I giggle, brushing her off.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, Cassie.” I giggle, brushing her off playfully. My phone dings, and I pull it up from my lap to check the notification.

Hey I feel like shit about earlier

Talk when you get home?

It’s Julian. Of course it’s Julian. I try to fight the urge to frown but I can’t help the way the disheartened expression forms in my face. I shut my phone off, shaking the feeling off and turning back to the game.

The buzzer sounds, alerting us that the game is starting again. It allows me to finally bring my attention back to the game. The Sparks are down seven, but you couldn’t even tell that the fans were bothered by it. 

“Jumbotron.” My sister whispers to me and I notice the camera moving past ‘celebrity row’ and getting shots of everyone.

“Bro.” I groan. I don’t hate it, it just gets so awkward. The camera man stays out there for too long and then I forget what to do with my hands. 

But regardless, the camera approaches me and my sister. I look up briefly at the Jumbotron before back down at the camera in front of me. A smile spreads to my face and I wave emphatically. Fortunately it doesn’t take very long and the camera man backs away a little.

Only briefly though, because within a matter of seconds he’s crashing to the ground and his large camera falls into Casandra’s lap.

During all the basketball games I’ve ever watched, I’ve always wondered how common the players run into the media crew or the stands. And every time I've sat in an arena, I’ve always said it would never be me. So you can imagine my surprise when a 6 '1 Paige Bueckers fell right on me after getting fouled going for a layup, knocking over the camera man in the process.

“Oh shit, man you good?” Paige asks him. Her hand helps steady him on his feet and Cassie hands him his camera back, mumbling hurriedly if he was alright. The man nods, patting her on the back.

My eyes meet hers, and suddenly I’ve never seen a prettier set of eyes. A shade of blue that was indescribable. Her hand reaches out to the both of us, palms outstretched as she asks, “Are you guys okay?” It comes out as a stutter and I barely notice it but it’s there.

I nod. And then I remember she still has free throws to shoot. “Yeah. All good, thanks.” I smile. Paige turns around, brushing her teammates off with thumbs ups and high fives when they ask if she’s alright. 

I would be an idiot to say that I wasn’t a little star struck. Sure, I wasn’t completely up to date with all things basketball, but I knew more than enough to know just how much Paige Bueckers was loved in the basketball community. Hell, the city of LA basically through a parade when they got that #1 overall pick.

She was a superstar, in all possible definitions of the word. You couldn’t go more than five minutes without seeing her face on TikTok or some commercial. 

And she was stunning; the last five seconds of me staring at her confirmed it in my mind even more.

—

“Thanks, Holly.” I beam with a smile. It only takes a few seconds of me walking away from postgame to hear yelling in my ear and Cam’s long arms around my shoulders.

In the least cocky way possible, I played an amazing game. Yes, the defense I faced tonight was different than when I was at Connecticut and efficiency wise I did struggle a bit. Who am I kidding— I played phenomenal.

26 points 9 rebounds and 7 assists, the pick-and-roll with Dearica racking up many of those. The team came out with a narrow win over the Wings, getting our season off on the right foot.

“That’s my fuckin’ rook!” I hear Azura Stevens hype me up. I dap her up cleanly, the smile on my face physically impossible to get rid of. For only being on the team for a month, they did a great job of welcoming me with open arms. 

I could definitely get used to this.

A towel hangs around my neck, picking up all the sweat from the game. I’m walking towards the locker rooms with a few of my teammates when I get pulled back for some autographs. I don’t say no, honestly I can’t remember the last time I refused to sign an autograph. Or if I ever did. 

There’s a young girl in front of me alongside her mom. She has on the UConn National Championship shirt from a month ago, her eyes wide as she pushes my sparks jersey up to me. I sign it with a smile, my heart swelling in size when she squeals and thanks me profusely.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for coming out!” I grin. My feet carry me through a few more fans. I sign all sorts of memorabilia from hoodies, to jerseys, phone cases, and shoes. As well as a wild number of selfies before I hear my name.

“Paige, come here!” It’s Rickea, as her voice has become widely recognizable in the last month that I’ve been here. “Oh my God, walk slower!”

I roll my eyes as I pick up my pace. She’s standing courtside with her warmups on. “Finally. I wanted you to meet a friend of mine. Maraye, this is Paige.”

When I look over it’s the girl from the TV last night, standing there with her purse in hand and— oh my God I ran into her like an hour ago. I fell into her lap. Oh my God this is embarrassing.

She looks even more gorgeous than when I was drooling over her last night. Her hair is the same, from what I can remember, but her outfit is completely different. The color she has on is similar to the one from last night, but the set shows off so much more skin. Her legs are toned, the top she wears is unbuttoned just enough to give me a show of the lace black bralette under it, and her gold septum shines in the arena light. 

“Hey.” I greeted her and the girl who sat next to her earlier in the night. “I do apologize about earlier by the way.”

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” She reassures me.

“P, Cam, and I were watching the show last night. You did great, Raye.” Rickea pushes at Maraye’s shoulder. My eyes catch how she blushes in response. 

“You on a world tour or something? New York last night, and LA tonight.” I joke, and she laughs. Her laugh is possibly more angelic than her singing, and the way her accent popped out when she spoke might even have an edge on that.

“Nah. I just couldn’t miss opening night. Kea’ would never let me live it down, plus my sister is like a huge hoops fan.” She explains, gesturing to the two women next to us. 

I’m towering over her as I look at her but she still keeps eye contact with me. My eyes never leave hers, I didn’t even want them to.

“I was just telling her about Cam and Ben’s dinner party on friday.” Rickea starts. She turns to face me, but I’m still stuck on Maraye and her— well her everything. Rickea swats my arm as slyly as she can to get my attention. My eyes rip away from the musician with an incredulous force. “You are going to that, right?”

“I, uh, I’m not sure. I gotta check on when Drew and my dad are coming to town.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there then?” Maraye speaks. 

Someone please help me figure out why her eyes are so mesmerizing. They’re big and a perfect shade of brown. The slight tilt of her head when she asks me nearly drives me crazy.

“Yeah maybe.” I nod before looking at Rickea. I don’t know how long we’ve stood here, but what I do know is that coach will hand our asses to us on a silver platter if we’re late to the first media session of the season. “Yo, we gotta…” My head tilts towards the tunnel.

“Oh shit you’re right. It was so good to see you guys!” She jumps, pulling Maraye and her sister into a group hug. “Tell y’all folks I say hi!”

The four of us exchange waves and we walk off the court. By the time we make it to the tunnel Rickea is letting out a loud cackle and pushing me away from her. “You’re not even trying to hide it!” She laughs. I know exactly what she’s talking about but I act clueless, it’s too early for my teammates to be ridiculing me over my choices in women.

“You are sooooo going to that dinner party.”

A smirk spreads on my face and I roll my eyes. For the first time all month, I can’t even disagree. Nothing is stopping me from going to that dinner party.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Diagnosis: Michael "Mikey" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

Mikey’s bipolar.

He gets the court mandated diagnosis after he punches a guy dressed like Ronald McDonald in the mouth for calling him for a fucker because he won’t give him a smoke. Out of all of his behaviour throughout the years this is probably the least craziest thing he’s done and the irony is it’s the one that gives him answers to the questions he’s always had about himself.

All those batshit impulses, the highs, the lows, the days he can barely get out of bed, all of it starts to make sense.

The thing is he got it from his mother, he knows he did and when he tries to tell her that so she can get help too, she slaps him across the face and curses at him, telling him that he’s the one that’s fucked up not her.

“I want your shit packed and you out.” She rampages, throwing his clothes out into the driveway and Mikey has no choice to comply because he knows what it’s like when his mother gets like this because he knows what he’s like when he gets like this.

When he turns up at your door, you’re surprised to see him. It’s been six months since the two of you ended things. It was your relentless patience that did it. The fact that no matter what ridiculous shit he got up to, you were always there, always smoothing things over, always supporting him.

“I’m no good for you.” He had told you, after you’d bailed him out of jail for the third time. “I’m no good for anyone.”

That was the night he had left, retreated back to his mother’s house because that way he can’t hurt you anymore, he can’t fuck up your life the way that he was fucking up his.

“I have no where else to go.” He tells you, the shame creeping up his features as he looks down at the garbage bag of belongings at his feet. Carmy’s in New York, Richie and Tiff are on the outs and he’s in big to Jimmy, there’s no one else he can turn to right now.

“You’re always welcome here.” You tell him as you hold open the door for him to come inside. “You know that.”

And he does because the breakup, it was never about a lack of love, it was about an abundance of it. Mikey loved you so much he couldn’t drag you into his shit anymore so he left.

“I’m sick.” He tells you as he cuts peppers on the chopping board in your kitchen. He’s decided to cook for you tonight to say thank you for letting him stay with you. You’d offered him a glass of wine but he’d turned it down because he doesn’t want it to mess with the medication he’s taking to deal with his mood swings. “The truth is I’ve probably been sick for a long time, I just… I didn’t know it.”

“Michael.” You say softly and he slows his chopping as your arms wrap around his waist, your body pressing into his back.

His eyes start to sting because you are the only one he can talk to about this shit, the only one that cares about him enough to listen. He turns to face you, gathering you up into the confines of his chest as he buries his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry about all the crazy shit I did.” He whispers as he cradles you close. “I’m taking medication, I’m going to therapy, I’m trying to get better…”

“I know Michael.” You tell him, your palms smoothing over his back. “I know baby, I know.”

Love Mikey? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[lie-lacdreams]

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt.3)

And so we introduce a catalyst that yields the product from the buildup of the last two parts... (sorry, I'm just a huge chemistry nerd if you couldn't already tell) I'm having a hard time deciding what direction to take this story in, but I hope it's still a good read.

Last Next

Engineer! Reader x Curly Word count ~ 1.6k

The next few weeks were hard for (Y/N) to stay focused. “(Y/N), are you alright? Every time I’ve talked to you recently you haven’t really heard anything I say.”

“I’m so sorry, Anya,” she sighed. “I guess I have a lot to think about.”

Anya rolled over on her bed to face her bunkmate, resting her chin on her hands. “What’s going on? I’m asking as a friend, not as some sterile clinician trying to conduct a psychological study.”

(Y/N) laughed at that, unsure if Anya was saying that as a joke or if she was self-aware of how monotonous she always gets when reading off the questions she asks every week. “You’ve been on the Tulpar with this crew for how long now?”

“Give or take six to seven years. At least with Swansea and Captain Curly. Jimmy was a new addition a year or two ago. This was a job to give me some income and clinical experience as I was studying and applying for medical school.”

“I see. Do you feel particularly close with the two of them? Or even Jimmy?” (Y/N) was on her side now, facing Anya.

“Swansea is like a father figure to me. A rough one for sure, but for a couple of months in between trips I’ve babysat his kids in between taking and retaking the MCAT. He’s been supportive of me in his own way. I never could get close to the captain. There’s just a power dynamic there that makes it a strictly professional relationship. As for Jimmy… he’s off-putting to me, but I can’t quite put a finger on why. He just gives me the creeps.”

She nodded, agreeing with Anya about Jimmy. There was something uncomfortable about him but she was relieved that their interactions stayed minimal. Revisiting what she had to say about Curly, however, her mind wandered. There had been a power dynamic between the two of them for sure, in addition to a little bit of an age gap, but the more they talked, the more their interactions mirrored that of old friends. Their conversation flowed so easily and never resorted to small talk, as it did when she was forced to interact with Jimmy. 

“Why did you ask?” Anya cut her out of her thoughts. 

“Oh, I don’t know. As one of the new ones here I’m trying to figure out my place in this crew. That’s all.” (Y/N) said vaguely. “I’m so grateful to have you here, Anya. You’ve been such a great friend to me ever since I joined, and it’s such a relief to at least have another woman here.” 

Anya chuckled, “I understand. Sometimes there’s just too much testosterone on this ship. I’m glad you’re here too.”

Ending their conversation shortly after, (Y/N) got up to turn the lights off and the two went to bed. Lying down, sleep didn’t find her easily as her mind swarmed. After truly getting to know him, (Y/N) found Curly nothing but kind, gentle, compassionate, and easy to talk to; the fact that he was so handsome was an added bonus. She was stuck on what to do from here. Something she knew about herself was that it was so easy for people to read the emotions right off her face– it was always hard for (Y/N) to hide her feelings. There was no way he could find out how she felt – for one, he was technically her boss, but also she knew that if he knew, that would be another added responsibility on his end not to hurt her feelings and keep civil for the entire year they were out in space. 

So she stayed away as much as she could, sitting at least one person away from him during group meals, keeping conversations short and light, going to bed earlier rather than staying in the lounge late in the evenings to do work or relax. 

Several times, Curly would try to seek her out to check in and see how she was doing, or just start a conversation with her, but she would give him terse answers and make up excuses, saying that Swansea needed her or that she needed to check something somewhere. This would leave Curly dejected and confused.

One day, it was getting hot in the utility room as (Y/N) moved equipment around to organise. With the few major things she needed to take care of out of the way today, she offered to help Swansea with whatever he needed while he and Daisuke “cleaned up the mess that Numbnuts over here made over by the hallway”, as he put it. The mess he was referring to was a bit of foam that escaped from a pipe that Daisuke hit after getting too excited about Swansea letting him screw the pipes shut all by himself. They both left, Swansea grumbling and holding the axe to cut away at the foam and Daisuke with a rubbish bag saying, “clean up on aisle four!”

Wiping the sweat off her brow, she unzipped her work jumper halfway and shed the long sleeves of the top part, tying it securely around her waist. Underneath she chose to wear a simple white tank top today, which worked well to her advantage. Squatting down to pick up a particularly heavy box, she let out a heave as she lifted it up, turning around to be met with the sight of Curly at the door. 

Flustered in the state she was in, she nearly dropped the box. “C-Captain! You startled me. What are you doing here? Are you looking for Swansea? He and Daisuke shouldn’t be too far. They just left to clean up some foam that escaped from a pipe. They won’t be long, I think.” (Y/N) rapid-fire answered without a word from the captain. While doing so she missed the glint in his eye. He walked over to her to pick up the heavy box out of her arms as she motioned where it needed to be. 

“Actually, I was on my way to the cockpit when I noticed the utility room door open and saw you in here. I feel like we haven’t really talked in a while. Are you okay?” He frowned.

“What do you mean? Of course I am. And you talk to me all the time – I’m always bumping into you and have been getting better about eating meals with everyone. We talk then, too. Things have just been busy lately, that’s all.” She said nervously. 

Curly narrowed his eyes at her and walked right up in front of her, staring her down. “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately. What happened?”

The closer he got to (Y/N), the more she backed away until she was cornered by a cryo pod. “N-Nothing! I swear I wouldn’t avoid you!” She lied. His proximity was making her feel hotter and she could feel her face burning up, and the awareness of her blush only made her more flustered because of it. 

He put a hand on the pod behind her, effectively caging her in. “Hmm, bullshit.” She had never heard him swear before, but hearing it now for the first time turned her on in a way she didn’t want to admit. “You know,” he started. “A few weeks ago as I was going to the lounge I heard Daisuke yell out something interesting. Something about you wanting to do something with me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Know anything about that, hm?” Dammit, Daisuke, she knew he was being too loud. 

Panicked, she didn’t know what to do in this situation. She could continue to lie through her teeth, as unsuccessful as that was already, or rip off the bandaid and admit it, apologise profusely, and sign her will before she died from an overdose of embarrassment. But before she could utter a weak excuse, Curly answered for her, his gaze growing softer with his voice.

“Tell me, please, if you don’t want this, I’ll leave. I’ll pretend this never happened and apologise for misreading the signals. We’ll go back to how we were before all of this.” His eyes grew half-lidded as he bent his neck down, bringing his face closer to hers. “Do you want this?”

“Yes.” She said shakily. Slowly, he cupped his hand around her face, gentle and cautious. Hot breath fanned at her lips before slowly pressing against hers gingerly, like he was trying to savour something decadent. His other hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer to him as she wrapped both arms around his neck, standing on her toes now to push more of herself into him. Swiping her tongue over his bottom lip, he let out a content sigh, deepening the kiss even further. Every small sound she made only made him hungrier for more, and Curly swore if they continued he would never want to stop. Breaking off the kiss, he looked down at her, pupils dilated and lips flush and swollen. 

“I don’t think I could get enough of you,” he panted. Just as they were about to go in for another kiss, the loud voice of Daisuke could be heard echoing through the halls, indicating that Swansea and him had finished cleaning up the foam and were headed back. Wordlessly, Curly placed one last kiss on her lips with a tender look and quickly slipped out to go to the cockpit before he got caught. 

“Jeez, that took forever! I promise I’ll be more careful next time, Swansea. Clearing out the foam is tedious work. Oh hey (Y/N) how’s it going? Damn, you must’ve worked up a sweat moving all of those boxes because you look hot! Eugh, that came out weird I swear I mean like the temp–”

Speechless from what had just transpired, (Y/N) left the utility room.

Isn't consent just so sexy? There's nothing like a little ask before macking, guys, never forget