#like a totally normal amount though

[ericcarrsworshipper]

I'll tell you something...I slept very well with the my Eric Carr scented V-Shaped pillow last night. Best night sleep yet, actually.

(That may just be the fact I stay up until unreasonable hours and sleep in best when I have a class that next day 💀)

[unordinary-diary]

Blyke in Season 3.

This is my prediction. With the way Season 2 ended, I think they’ll find Blyke months later looking something like this.

Shit happens to people in prison. Terrence was murdered in his cell, Rein was worried about being killed by other inmates, hell, Blyke’s already pretty banged up in the finale and he’s been there for 2.5 seconds. Not to mention that the Authorities seem to have no problem torturing kids *COUgh* Keon.

Perhaps it’s a bit pessimistic, but the story’s been getting a lot darker lately. I doubt Blyke’s getting out of prison without a little extra trauma at least.

Latest Chapter as of Prediction: Side Story — Triple Threat (1)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

You know what, I keep mulling this over and I think I'm just going to write it because I keep second guessing myself and I need to share.

SO. Back in my big, long Wolfwood post, I pointed out this scene below and how the pale eyes/use of Vash's name/etc shows actual concern here

The next shot is of Wolfwood's shoes running, and by the time we see these two again, they're at the hospital and have to overhear from the staff what happened to the hitman - which means that Wolfwood did not run after the shooter, he ran to get medical help. That's what I stated before.

But here's the thing: leaving Vash there while he runs to get help is... kind of stupid, because even though Wolfwood shot at the hitman, he's clearly still alive and still gunning for Vash. Wolfwood refers to him in present tense - "He is obviously a hit-man" not "he was".

Immediately after, Keele, who's moved up to the roof, says the following - "I need to get a clean shot in." On it's own, that's not a strange thing to say - he needs to finish this, quickly, before he's discovered. Except... it kind of is an odd thing to say, if Vash is still just lying there. Keele is on the roof, directly above his target - I would expect a clean shot to be fairly easy to take.

You might be thinking, "oh, but maybe there's a crowd around Vash now and he can't get a clean shot with all the people"... but this makes no sense, because Vash is only as injured as he is because Keele clearly doesn't care about collateral and fired on both Vash and the civilian woman in the car. Even if you argue that there's too many people to be "justifiably collateral" in Keele's eyes, he could still easily disperse them by firing more bullets - we don't see anyone who appears to be able to fire a gun here except Wolfwood, and he should be gone to get help at this point.

So, what's with the clean shot thing? He's never seemed to care up until this point, he was just unloading all his bullets at the guy, and a grenade. The only thing I can think of is that he needs to ensure his aim is accurate. It's likely he's firing at a moving target.

Wolfwood's arm is stretched out over Vash in the second panel of the image above. Neither one of them knew what became of Keele until later at the hospital. Vash's entire body is bandaged - he was in no condition to move himself, and we only see one set of shoes in the running panel.

Tldr; "Wolfwood picks up Vash and carries him while booking it for the hospital" is not only a perfectly valid interpretation of this scene, but also, imo, one of the most rational ones. I rest my case.

...Actually I'm probably just losing my mind. Ignore me.

[larsnicklas]

sorry the funniest thing to me is l.eafs fans thinking that the league is conspiring against them bc guy who blindside crosschecked another player well after a play ended bc his widdle feelings got hurt got a perfectly normal suspension 😭

[sieglinde-freud]

I would be SAT for your total drama power point (and my godddddd the fucking essay in my head about what the hell was going on with Sierra & Cody)

dude give me a season and a topic and ive got it. maybe not pahkitew island though that one is so bad ive really only watched it once when it came out and maybe like. two episodes since then. but the other ones (all stars was also bad but. alejandro carried for a while until they nerfed him sooo bad ugh) i could do. sierra and cody were INSANE like i get that was the humor at the time (for. some people. lets remember this show was also victim to “writers’ poorly disguised fetish”) but like. swap the genders and the police sirens going off immediately weewooweewooweewoo like i know cody wasnt great to gwen but i think giving him sierra as karma is a BIT much. and not funny bc girl fym u inhaled his shoelace and it came back out your mouth EW. their friendship at the end was nice but undeserved and then she never gave up stalking him (i think? bc in all stars she was still crazy (she also should not have been in all stars but WHATEVER)) so. not even a good resolution. goddamn. “the christians” is still one of the funniest jokes on the show though so she did at least one thing good

[whetstonefires]

I do get why there's this reaction against that bit of that sentence, but it's also kind of annoying to me because the context of that part of the thread was pretty blatantly 'addressing people who assume the obesity epidemic is a real factual thing' and recontextualizing one of the pieces of data that props that narrative up.

That is, the genuinely very real existence of people--especially kids--who are generally getting enough calories, and yet are still chronically malnourished, and experiencing health problems as a result of that. The malnourishment.

Because there really truly are so many people who need protein and fiber and various micronutrients and other things that are In Food, but can only manage to consistently obtain the macronutrients to satisfy their energy requirements, and thus are not starving, but are also not very well.

The mainstream, fat-as-bad-choice approach to this is 'education,' and the argument being presented is that you can't educate people out of a food desert, the problem is systemic; they are not choosing to be malnourished, they need to be offered actual choices, not useless patronizing advice.

Therefore the (real actual) existence of these people and their real difficulties cannot and should not serve as a weapon to support the narratives of the diet industry about health, and how people need to discipline themselves better to achieve it.

The objective here is to disrupt the conflation of bullshit about fatness and bullshit about poverty, so that it's harder to use each set of prejudice to reinforce the other. The focus is on the poverty because that's the area where a specific policy aim is being sought.

So the reaction against the use of the term in that context starts to look a lot like when people complain that arguments emphasizing that homeless people are often victims of circumstance (and those people clearly don't deserve to be criminalized so maybe anti-homeless laws are bad huh), or defending gay rights with relatable scenarios like not being able to visit one's husband in the hospital, are insufficiently radical, and therefore worse than useless.

Sometimes you gotta meet people where they're at yk?

there's that post going around that's a short twit thread talking about "the obesity epidemic" as a result of economic oppression and everyone's snapping their little fingers for it but like. you guys know that we achieved socialist utopia tomorrow there would still be fat people right. you guys know that genetics play a bigger role in that than anything else and that some people will just be fat regardless of every other factor in their life right. you guys know that's fine right.

like idk I don't think it comes from a purposefully fatphobic place and like yes it sucks a lot that the demands of capitalism deny people a lot of opportunities to cook or learn to cook and be more engaged and intentional about their food. but it has this flavor of "poverty is bad because it makes people fat," which only holds up as an argument if you agree that being fat is a terrible thing that happens to people rather than being a completely neutral reality about some people's bodies.

anyone pulling any fatphobia on this post is getting blocked on sight I'm not playing.

[arodrwho]

?????

[playingonedchess]

that american guy who said he didnt like london partly cause he witnessed a stabbing then went on defending americas gun laws like make up your mind

[libbyfandom]

Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink

(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))

(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))

You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”

Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.

You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.

You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.

“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.

“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”

You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.

Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.

Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.

She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.

You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”

Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”

But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.

“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”

Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”

You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”

Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”

You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”

Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”

“He’s gross.”

She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.

“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.

You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.

She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.

“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.

She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.

The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.

She mumbles something.

“Mizu-“

“I wanna do that.”

Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”

“I want to cum inside you.”

The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.

Holy shit.

Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.

And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.

Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“

Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.

“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“

Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.

“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”

Holy shIT-

“Mizu-MIZU-!”

Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.

And very, VERY drunk.

She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”

You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.

But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.

Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”

Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.

Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”

Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.

“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.

Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.

“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.

Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.

Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.

You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.

She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-

“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“

You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.

SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.

You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.

“Baby.”

Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.

“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.

Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.

And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Please?”

She’s pleading.

What the fuck was in her whiskey?!

“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”

With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.

You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.

"Say yes..."

Click!

You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.

She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.

Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”

“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.

“Oh? Congratulations!”

“….Wait…?”

“RINGO HELP!”

In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.

“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.

“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”

You nod, “That sounds good."

You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”

She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.

“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”

Several loud crashes in the kitchen.

[reshinless]

“just the tip” turing into “i know you can take it just a few more rounds” with kinich? im totally normal about this man i promise 🙂‍↕️

7 rounds, with a side of coffee please!

nsfw utc, marathon sex if u squint, sex mention + the morning after, usage of 'cunt' but think of this how u want (I don't specify pronouns), praise kink, mentions of blindfold/rope (not the main point), shower sex somewhat (again not the main point)

wc: ~0.9k. artwork belongs to @/leisomnium on x, go check out their page.

he promised you it'd be just his tip snug inside your cunt. why are his thrusts soo mean now! (you asked for it)

all happening right after a celebration party mualani throws- she offers you two a house to share before going home. (three-day celebration in which you both do it on the third day)

he said he'd be gentle, that was four rounds ago. it felt as if he was losing his sanity inside you (literally), and he only wanted more.

the coos, and whispers against the shell of your ear- fuck you couldn't help but get turned on. he could feel the hefty amount of essence, and wetness on his shaft, as it spread everywhere.

the different speeds you could observe throughout the seven separate rounds you both underwent, he was rougher in the middle- vanilla towards the end.

spending the first few hours letting your tight cunt get used to his girth and length. fuck it was already the morning after but it's as if it was still there, your legs trembling at the thought.

he loved how loud you were last night though, he could hear the sounds of animals nearby getting startled. and a knock on the door from a neighbor, haha.

he was against the idea of tying you down to the bed or blindfolding you at first. but he will give in if you ask nicely, say please :)

he prefers he handles you himself, your skin on his, nothing in between. but it definitely would help him out by not needing to hold you down. the only times he does do it on his own when you don't ask is when you've been a little more than just 'bad'.

his tattoos glow a little when he gets pleasured, so in a way, you get clues on your own when you rode him, which spot he preferred inside you, or which position he preferred... (it was cowgirl by the way)

his hands cause marks on your skin, and he genuinely feels bad. he always offers help to cover them by wrapping his jacket around your waist or making his headwear into a scarf to cover up the hickeys on your nape.

yet you couldn't discard the feeling of the previous night. would always remind you whenever you tried to move the next. using nearby objects for support 'till kinich noticed, and wrapped your arm around his neck instead to support you, or full-on bridal style, whatever you want.

how he whispered "don't worry, let's just get you to the bed" sounded so familiar to the tone he used yesterday to tell you how good you took his cock inside you. about how deep it was... or how he'd fill you up to your very brim. "not a drop wasted." word for word.

"i know you can take it for a lil' longer, sweetheart... c'mon..." is all you heard in the moment as his godly speed along with merciless thrusts ironically enough. his mouth lusted praise into your hears, while his dick said much else.

he spent a few rounds thinking about what position he wanted to fuck you in the most. but he was stuck between his top three; missionary, mating press, and cowgirl. he couldn't decide but doggy style was a close second.

he much preferred a position in which he could stare at your features when doing so. like missionary- he could lean in to kiss your sweaty forehead, and hold your hips close to his as he repeatedly slammed himself inside.

or mating press where he could get a pretty lil' close-up of your face, he could feel your legs get tired while he trusted inside though, and honestly felt bad, that's when he started slowing down. instead of the ruthless pounding, he'd be a regular to grinded his angry red tip against your g-spot in hopes it's just as pleasurable as the previous feeling.

maybe it was cowgirl, wherein you'd do all the work. and he could watch how good your cunt swallows him whole, or how your head threw back in pleasure because of his cock. nothing turned him on more than your own expression. gosh, he could already feel himself harden at the sudden thought of it.

honestly would be the same for reverse cowgirl but if he were going to be real with you- he'd rather watch your expression range from your eyes rolling to the back of your head rather than for those beautiful faces you make be faced away from him. he could care less about seeing how you take it from behind somewhat.

it was the sixth round in which you remembered he was the loudest in, and in all honesty, it wasn't even supposed to go up 'till seven rounds. but you looked just so.. appetizing in your bathrobe. the fact you trust him so much enough to shower with him, he still blushed at the thought even when you've been together for about three years now.

he could feel his orgasm build up again as he pinned you to the wall of the steamy hot springs. shit, he knows mualani would get mad; having to clean the pool again but he couldn't help but release on your back as it arched, you both climaxing together.

maybe he did have a favorite though, and it didn't necessarily concern his shaft rubbing against you this time.

the way you tasted definitely changed his point of view on intercourse. damn did it taste better than any meat stew he's eaten and made before!

but how could he not? you forgot your last pair of clothing for the night, having to borrow his and fuck. he's turned on again from the sight of you in his clothing.

too late to realize when he already lifted the shirt up a little to seep his tongue into your hole. fingers already working over your clit, making sure you feel everything.

oh he knew how much you liked when he hummed in response to your little whimpers to turn them into moans, and whines. of his name? of course!

you tasted nice, especially when your gummy walls clenched around his fingers as they interchanged positions with his tongue, he landed pretty little kitty licks onto your clit. he added another digit up into your entrance as they curled riiiiight theeeree...

flashback over, the night was done and dawn arrived as kinich decided on just carrying you bridal style home using his rope to quickly travel back instead of using mualani's koholasaurus like previously done (took two days to arrive LOL).

mualani arrived at the hot springs near to the home she lent you both to, cookies and milk in hand. "man.. i didn't even get to say goodby- is that.. white in the water.. KINIIIIIIIIICH!!!"

[minus-plus-zer0]

Accidentally Sleeping Together

♡ Genre: Fluff, suggestive ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader (Imagine the bunny on the right is Bakugou, afraid of you waking up O-o)

Bakugou's arms curled tight around you, his sleepy fingers running across your skin rhythmically. It took his similarly sleepy brain a couple of seconds before he realized that this wasn't a beautiful dream.

This was real.

Bakugou leapt off you, his back slamming into his dorm wall. He rubbed the back of his head, swore several expletives at nothing in particular, and then assessed the damage.

You slept together last night. He didn't remember if it was an accident or if you two... did something, but his head was not 100% there yet in the morning.

You were even slower than him to wake, but he could see your figure rustling, and all he could think was "Crap, crap, crap, crap!" It was like he was pinned against the wall. Even if he had an easy exit route, he couldn't exactly walk out on you without proving his innocence first. Or making sure you were okay.

You finally opened your eyes, wiping them. Tentatively, Bakugou spoke.

"Hey, we need to--"

You shrieked and Bakugou cringed from the noise. You sat upright, whipping your head around like it was on a swivel, pure shock on your cute little face. Bakugou was the same amount of scared, but unlike you he was frozen.

"What did we do?!" you cried.

"I don't know!"

"Did we sleep together?!"

"I don't fucking know!"

Bakugou's heart was racing. The fact that you even considered sleeping with him as a possible event within this point of space and time just totally befuddled him. If this whole ordeal didn't screw over his chances with you, then his stupidly hopeful heart could take this as a good sign.

He chose his next words very carefully.

"Did we?" he asked, a little eyebrow cocked and his voice low.

You stared at him, the gears turning in your adorable thoughtless head. He wondered what things you were thinking right now. Your face was normally pure and innocent and cute, but your mind was typically evil and mischievous and always thinking of ways to prank and tease him, so it was hard to say what was happening in there at this exact moment. But being your best friend and all, he had some ideas of what you were probably thinking of.

He shouldn't be focusing on that right now though. Although you didn't look uncomfortable or creeped out, you were the type of person who'd struggle to voice your negative thoughts in a time like this. And as your best friend, Bakugou had to make sure you were okay. It was like, his calling in life.

"You alright?" he asked, snapping you out of your reverie. "I would never take advantage of you. You know that, right?"

"I know," you said, almost immediately. Bakugou was a little proud of your trust and your strong connection together.

"Are you okay?" he asked, again.

"Yeah, I'm okie dokie... Are you?"

You reached out to his face and he realized he had been blushing for some time now.

"I'm sorry," you said. "Did I scare you? Did I sleep here on accident? Can't believe I crashed in your room..."

"Don't apologize to me! Jeez. You're always apologizing to other people. I'm fine. I would never be creeped out by you. In fact, you've almost fucking dozed off here a couple of times in the past. You just don't remember 'cause I carried you back each time." That last part was a bit of a brag.

"Oh?" you cocked your head. "But you didn't tonight. Guess you were too much of a lazy little sleepy head yesterday."

"No more than you!"

That was how you both ended up grinning at each other, faces too close and somewhat red, but happy all the same.

If you weren't uncomfortable, if you were even smiling at him, Bakugou wanted to push things further. Your lips were only several centimeters away, and he wanted to close the distance. But he couldn't risk it unless he knew for sure you'd want him to.

"Had a good sleep, then?" he asked, voice rumbly and still low while his smirk never left his face. "After all, it's my bed."

"I would've, but maybe someone was hogging all the sheets." You mock glared at him, but you didn't back away.

"Well I bought them," he retorted. "Didn't think I'd get a new roommate tonight."

"Maybe I'll just steal your bed and then we won't have a problem."

"You're gonna steal my bed with me in it?"

You lightly slapped his chest and he laughed. You were laughing too, but dammit even if it was funny, he wasn't entirely joking...

Still, he couldn't say he was unhappy.

"Seriously can't fucking believe I woke up to you today," he said, letting some of his true adoration for you spread across his face. "Next time you sleep here, I'm not carrying you back..."

While he still had the chance, he needed to push things further, so you'd understand where he really stood on this situation. Bakugou had enough of all the near-miss kisses in your relationship. He wanted more.

Your hands cupped his face and he stayed put, obediently.

"You won't need to," you whispered.

His fingers grabbed your chin. "I don't ever want to."

And with that, he kissed you, finally.

[giuseppe-yuki]

money, money, money

normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader

w.c.: 6.8k

warnings: curse words, allusions to sex, RUDE people, sprinkle of angst (?)

summary: you introduce max to the good and bad sides of having money.

a/n: roughly inspired by crazy rich asians- one of my fav movies!!!

photo credits from pinterest :)

it was no secret to the majority of the world that your bloodline was rich- filthy rich. with your father’s side of the family owning the equivalent of half a small country and your mother’s side of the family the owners of several major corporations, you had no lack of paper bills in your bank accounts.

along with your siblings and your cousins, you grew up pampered, only going to your country’s best schools and wearing only the latest fashion. you were picked up by a chauffeur in a personal sleek black bentley and had a team of maids at your beck and call. hell, you were even granted access to a private jet in case you wanted to fly somewhere exotic just for fun!

as a child without a sense of the value of money, you thought all children lived like this. every birthday, you expected only the very best from your parents. on your sixth birthday, your parents closed down disneyland and let the kids rampage throughout the park. for your cousin’s grade school graduation, your aunt bought an entire cruise liner (company) and held a week-long party on the water to celebrate. when your little brother passed his driver’s license, your father bought him a customized ferrari pista (that he might have crashed three days in) as his first car. when christmas came by, your grandma flew in your entire family to her private island in first class, and surprised all the kids with their very own mini play homes in the backyard that were each the size of a small apartment. 

slowly, as you matured, you realized how lucky you were. while eating the caviar and champagne at the expensive gala, the homeless were out in the cold, eating the leftover crusts in oily crumpled pizza boxes that they fished out of the trash. each dollar in your bank accounts could go to sick children whose parents couldn’t pay the hospital bills for, and instead, they were going to mega yachts that sat in the monaco bay most of the year. besides, wouldn’t your parents' money run out some time? 

it seemed that many of your cousins and siblings didn’t give a fuck. you watched them exponentially abuse their power, blowing through thousands of grands for luxury cars they drove only once and exclusive rooftop parties where they swam in pools of champagne. one by one, you saw them drop out of school and spend every day as the life of the party. once they rapidly grew out of the excuse of being “young, naive, and not knowing better” their reputation to the general public became “spoiled and out-of-touch” with society. 

you of course, weren’t totally exempt from this. you had to admit that you occasionally spent a few k on a nice little bag for yourself, or had an occasional trip to bali for some sun. however, you focused much more on your studies and helping others than partying. instead of spending your draining your mother’s company assets, wouldn’t it be better to have your own? why wield a black card embellished with your father’s name in gold when it could be your own name? with your own money, you could also donate huge amounts to people in need- all under your name.

slowly, you built up your own credible business using the knowledge you gained, and it soon skyrocketed into a world-wide profitable company. 

even with such success however, all your siblings and cousins laughed at you. running a company? they had chuckled, in their balenciaga suits and miu miu dresses. why do such tedious work when you can just marry into a rich family?

rich family, you scoff, looking at one of your cousins at the yearly family party that your family threw. though she was dressed to the nines, hair done up and jewelry glistening on her neck, she looked absolutely miserable. her husband, that everyone knew she had just married “for the money” stood on the opposite end of the room, flirting unashamedly with a rather uncomfortable looking waiter. that was really funny, considering that your cousin had been bragging about how much her husband loved her at the last function. she had even shoved a picture of her next to a humongous flower bouquet into your face, teasingly stating how “you never had this experience before, huh?”

your brother wasn’t that much different. although he looked rather successful with a big quarter of your mother’s company stocks, you knew that he was in major debt from burning through his bank accounts gambling at casinos around the world. he paraded around the room with his wife, who hung on his arm so proudly, but only because she didn’t know a thing. if you hinted at your brother’s little “problem,” you knew that she would have the divorce papers ready by afternoon the next day. 

as the party went on and the alcohol broke down the painstakingly-built facades of your family’s relationships, you began to stop envying their so-called perfect lives. you realized that all they knew about was money. what did they know about love?

love to you was a kind man with blue eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled at you, light brown hair that was oh-so-soft to run through with your hands, and a soothing voice with a twinge of an accent and slight lisp. love smelled like his soft cologne, and tasted like the spiced sweetbreads he would bake on the weekends. 

max was the total opposite from the cocky and money-hungry douchebags from your home country that were more attracted to your wallet and family influence, which was what you liked about him. even the way you met him was different. usually, the men would make it all about themselves, trying to impress you with their “achievements” (owning three ferraris is not a keystone achievement, david) or throwing technical jargon at you to sound smart. if you somehow invited them on a second date, they always showed up late and would tear off their clothes the second they got in the house, expecting to get to third base immediately. however, you met max through a friend of a friend at a small party in monaco. he could barely look you in the eyes and stuttered through his sentences, which you found quite refreshing compared to the arrogant guys that you usually encountered. on your first date, he got you some rather wilty looking tulips, but also brought some homemade bread that you swore was the best you ever ate. on the third date, he yapped about all the flags of all the countries he knew, but you didn’t mind because he let you ramble your own interests after. before long, you moved in with him in his apartment on the edge of monaco, and had the honor of calling him your boyfriend.

so now, lying in his arms on his tiny bed, you felt more at home than ever. 

the sunlight streams in through the windows above his bed, casting a glow across his face and filtering through his impossibly long eyelashes. you take a minute to admire the angelic scene, before one his cats leaps off of who-knows-where and jumps on his face. 

he yelps, and unwinds his arm from around you to softly push who you assume to be sassy away from his head. 

you flash a glare at sassy for ruining such a nice moment, before picking her up and attempt to “throw” her off the bed. 

unfortunately, max yanks her out of your hands before you are able to.

“hey!” he says in a chastising tone. “be nice to sassy. i’m sure she didn’t mean to.” 

max sits up on the bed and gives sassy a few head scratches before placing a kiss on her soft head. sassy meows at you, which you swear is in a mocking tone. across the room, jimmy sprints over and takes a spot next to max, purring for head scratches too, effectively pushing you off the bed. 

you didn’t understand how your boyfriend couldn’t see that his cats were literally devils. you were basically subject to their abuse every day (i.e. random ankle attacks, knocking over all you fragile items, unplugging your devices, cat hair in your food, and the worst one, stealing max away from you). scowling, you surrender your rightful spot on the bed and pad into the kitchen in your slippers to start the coffee. 

it’s not until both the coffee and breakfast is ready when max finally enters the kitchen, now freshly dressed. the cats scamper around his feet, curling lovingly around his ankles. 

“sorry about that, baby.” he says, pulling out his chair and taking a seat in front of his plate of food. “jimmy and sassy just wanted some love.”

you roll your eyes before settling down into your own seat.

he spears a few sausage links and eggs into his mouth before glancing at the clock. eyes widening, he shoves the rest of the food into his mouth and chugs down the hot coffee.

“so sorry, i have to run!” he sputters out, “i’m going to be late to my engineering meeting!”

he dashes to the bedroom to grab his bag before running back into the kitchen to press a kiss to your cheek in goodbye. 

“have fun at work too, baby!” he yells before the front door slams closed. 

sighing, you finish your plate before washing the dishes in the sink. he was always late for his engineering job at a small office in downtown monaco. max somehow always got to his office in time though, but probably because he raced his little yellow renault clio rs on the streets like he was some type of formula one driver. meanwhile, you had your “work” at home (which typically meant one phone call to your secretary to make sure everything was running smoothly, a quick scroll through your company accounts, and then netflix on the couch).

from the time you met to the time you started dating, you never got to telling max about your family history or your job. it was actually kind of unbelievable that he didn’t notice actually, even when all your clothes were covertly designer and heels were always red bottoms, or when you seemingly traveled out of the country every other weekend for company meetings. however, he never asked, so you never told. 

well, that was until he came home that night. 

his footsteps echo on the ground as he walks out from the bathroom, but stops before he gets into the kitchen

“hey baby,” he says, tilting his head. “what’s this?”

you stop stirring the pasta sauce, looking back to see your freshly showered boyfriend questioningly glancing at your open macbook on the couch.

you must have forgotten to close out of your company bank account tab. quickly, you throw the spoon aside, slam the laptop shut, and throw it to the side. 

“that’s nothing, baby.” you say, rushing back to the kitchen and stirring the bubbling red mixture again. 

“oh-kay…” he says, walking up behind you and reaching over to help strain the pasta noodles. 

while straining the water out in the sink, he flashes you a quick glance. “was it like…” he whispers quietly. “adult material or something?? is that why you didn’t want me to see it?” 

what? 

you look back him, an unimpressed look at your face. “adult material, max???” you repeat back at him. “no. i was not watching adult material on my work laptop.”

“okay, whatever you say, baby.” max says, clearly not believing you. clearing his throat, he continues. “so, um… anyways, my coworker george was talking about how he met his boyfriend alex's parents over the weekend, and i realized that i never met your parents before. do you think we can maybe pay them a visit?"

you freeze, halfway sliding out a plate of garlic bread from the oven. 

“i- um, don’t think that’s wise, maxie.” you reply quietly.

your boyfriend wrinkles his brow. he stops the plating of the noodles and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“is it…is it because they are assholes?” he asks, looking at you seriously. “cause it’s okay if they are- i understand, because my dad…my dad is not very kind either.”

you can’t help to think about your family in your home country. you could never take your maxie there. they would rip him to shreds, degrading him for being rather plain and destitute compared to them. you would never want to put your boyfriend through your parents, either, who would probably criticize him for wanting to marry you just for the money, even if max didn’t know a goddamn thing about how you earned your funds. 

you rub your face. “no, it’s not that.” you sigh, “i- mean- it’s just complicated over there in my home country. i don’t want you to feel pressure or uncomfortable-”

max cuts you off with a hug, and presses a kiss to your cheek. “i really don’t mind, baby. i’d really like to meet the people who made such a kind and beautiful person like you.”

you blush a little at his words. even if you have an uneasy feeling to your stomach, you nod lightly. it can’t be that bad, right?

if you were to take max over to your home country, there was no doubt he would be exposed to your massive fame and influence there. to slowly ease him into the more luxurious side of your life, you first introduce the luxuries of a private jet the day you take off from the airport.

“a private JET???” your boyfriend shrieks, looking at his speciality boarding pass. 

hurriedly, you shush him to avoid the glares of other travelers within a yelling distance of you both. 

“max, please be quiet.” you hiss into his ear. “yes, it says private jet.” 

maneuvering your cart with your lv-branded luggage to the side of the terminal, along with max’s one small carry-on and two pet cages with the reincarnations of the devil inside, you pull out your phone to check the location of the driver who would take you to the separate private-jet entrance. 

like magic, he materializes behind you, tapping you on the shoulder. 

politely, he takes your horde of luggages and max’s items before politely gesturing towards a massive black lincoln that was definitely not parked there before. 

“this way miss,” he says curtly, before reaching forward to open the car door for you. 

max, snapping out of his confusion, snaps his hand out first and roughly yanks the door open, and nearly hitting both you and the driver. 

“i’ll open the door for my own girlfriend, thanks!” he retorts, glaring suspiciously at the driver, who just shrugs and starts loading the luggage into the back of the car.

when max climbs into the spacious back of the lincoln, you can’t help but giggle into your hand. 

“max, you need to relax,” you laugh, placing a calming hand on max’s leg. “he’s my driver. it’s his job to open the door, okay?”

your boyfriend sniffs, pouting a little. 

“fine.”

after boarding the jet and ascending safely into the air, you settle into your padded chair. meanwhile, max runs around the jet like a little kid, pointing out the “special features,” much to the amusement of the staff. 

“omg, baby, look!” he yells, pointing at a wooden-paneled door behind your chair. “the bathroom is huge!” 

you nod, and hum in agreement, sparing a quick glance at max, who was opening and closing the door as if it would change what was behind it. 

he then charges toward a cabinet near the middle of the plane, which is stuffed to the brim with your favorite snacks. “wow!” he shouts, before sprinting towards a similar cabinet further down, which you know is the alcohol storage area. 

there’s a moment of silence before max steps into view with three gin and tonics and one of your favorite drinks in hand. he carefully sets them down in front of you, batting away a disgruntled-looking bartender who held a half-open bottle of gin that you assumed he was in the middle of pouring when max snatched the bottle away. 

you apologize profusely to the bartender while max watches on, straight up chugging his drinks. 

“this is wild!!” he whispers, pointing to the cups in front of him.

no more than five minutes after sending the bartender away with a little tip, max has already finished two of his three gin and tonics and was already bounding out of his seat to explore the rest of the plane. 

once you hear his exclamations of joy from the back of the plane, you know he has discovered the master bedroom.

before you have a chance to take a sip of your own drink, max basically pounces on you and drags you towards the private bedroom. your boyfriend pushes you onto the soft bed, yells out the door. 

“give us a little bit of privacy, okay?” he shouts to no one in particular, before slamming the door shut. 

he turns back to your figure lying spread-eagle in the bed, and wiggles his eyebrows. 

max is the first one to talk after you both lay on the bed, lips swollen and cheeks red. 

“so…?” he says, running a hand down your back. 

“so… what?” you ask, looking up at him from your position sprawled on top of him. from your point of view, you could feel the slight rise and fall of his chest, his slightly damp hair, and the way his blue, blue eyes study your face. 

“so, when were you going to tell me that you were…like…rich?” he replies.

you maneuver yourself to a sitting position on your boyfriend’s lap, looking him nervously.

“well…” you remark, twiddling your thumbs. this wasn’t the way you thought you were going to break the news to max. 

“i grew up more- comfortably in my home country, thanks to my family and their connections. i was lucky to not have to worry about money at all. when i became a little older, i separated myself from the rest of my siblings and cousins to form and take care of my own company. then, on a business trip, i met you and then.. yeah, you know what happens next.”

an awkward silence fills the room, with max digesting the information and you toying with a stray thread from the bedcovers.

your boyfriend opens his mouth slowly.

“a company?” he questions, turning to you. “what company?”

you scramble off the bed for your phone, and type something quick in the search bar. when you find what you are looking for, you rotate the phone towards your boyfriend, the glowing screen reflecting on his features. 

it only takes one or two seconds for max to scan and decipher the words on the screen.

“YOU’RE THE CEO OF REDBULL??” max shouts.

when the wheels of your private jet hit the bumpy runway, it was midnight. your pilot’s voice crackles on the intercom, politely notifying you that you have arrived, and are free to disembark whenever you’d like. outside, you can see several workers unloading your luggage, along with jimmy and sassy in their pet carriers.

you turn to max, who was intensely staring at his screen, unmoving. you assume he was still in the middle of his fervent wikipedia dive of you and your family’s entire history that he insisted on learning, once he got over the initial shock. 

“max,” you say, nudging him slightly. 

he doesn’t budge, eyes trained like an eagle on his screen. 

you pull on sweatshirt before nudging him again, this time a little harder. “max, come on, we gotta go.”

he snaps up, and pockets his phone before mock saluting you. “yes, of course, miss ceo! whatever you say!”

you roll your eyes. max was a little extra sometimes.

he trails behind you obediently as you climb down the stairs to get off the plane, and into a sleek black limousine. 

before long, you find yourself on the familiar streets and freeways that you used to frequent when you were younger. it feels the slightest bit nostalgic, so different from the streets of monaco that you became used to thanks to max. 

you look back to find max tilting his head at you. 

“where to now, miss ceo?” he asks in a curious tone.

you smile.

”i know just the place.”

even when it was close to three am, the downtown streets were still packed with people. vendors engulfed the street sides, selling delicious soups and snacks beckoned to people, and little shops with bright signs advertised souvenirs, clothing, stationary, and everything in between. the car inches to a stop when you come upon a familiar old building that you remember visiting often as a child. bright glittery letters on the storefront and windows exclaim, “lombardi ice cream shop.” a line of people streams out the door, an ode to the delicious creamy treats that the shop has been selling for years. god, you could basically taste the ice cream on your tongue already.

you practically leap out of the car, dragging max with you towards the front of the shop. the red bottoms of your heels click against the concrete, turning many heads in the crowd along the sidewalk. you hear gasps of shock and a few whispers of your name along the crowd. they automatically parts like moses and the red sea when you get closer. max hesitates, wide eyed, at the edge of the crowd. 

”c’mon,” you laugh, taking his hand and leading him through the people.

an old woman, back hunched with age, waddles out of the kitchen and greets you warmly when you arrive at the counter. without realizing, a warm feeling spreads across your chest. she was basically like a second mother to you, considering you spent your entire childhood frequenting this shop with your cousins and siblings. whenever you visited your home country, you would always make sure to pop by her shop (not that she needed your business- her lines always curled around the block, day and night). 

“ahh!! welcome back, honey,” she exclaims, wiping her wrinkled hands on her apron. “you’ve gotten so beautiful!” throwing a glance at a shy max hesitantly hidden behind you, she sends you an eyebrow raise. “ah, and i see you brought a boy back huh?”

you reach over to give the weathered old woman a hug, blushing. “hello, momma lella! yes, this is my boyfriend max.”

max waves a polite hello, one hand still nervously holding yours.

the elderly woman smiles kindly at max, not hiding how she looks him up and down. “well, i approve!” she states, giving you a thumbs up and a wink. “polite and handsome!” 

without another word, she grabs the largest size cup and fills it to the brim with creamy chocolate ice cream. sprinkling a good amount of sprinkles and shoving two spoons into the cup, she offers it to you. 

“on the house!”

you and max sit on the sidewalk with the cup of ice cream, watching people walk by and cars zoom through the traffic. occasionally, max takes his spoon and shovels a large helping of chocolate ice cream into his mouth. 

“you look like you’re really enjoying the ice cream,” you state, noticing the chocolate smeared over the corners of his mouth.

max just smiles at you in the way he always does, with the dimples and the crinkle in his eyes. 

suddenly, your moment is ruined when a flash goes off in your face.

max jerks back, rubbing his eyes, not used to the invasive cameras that made up your childhood.

you whip around towards the flash, seeing a small herd of paparazzi smiling wickedly. a rare spotting of you in back in your home country for the first time in years? that was payday for them. a flash of anger shoots through you, causing you to throw your wooden spoon at their expensive cameras. unfortunately, it just bounces off of the arm of a short looking man carrying a heavy duty camera.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you yell, shooing them away from max. “can you just leave us alone for one second?”

bothersome paparazzi like this was common when you grew up in a family rich with drama and money. you recall them camping in front of your house, shutters clicking once they saw a sign of movement. whatever mistake you made, like tripping over a small rock or fighting with your sister over a doll, was publicized and dramatized into unrecognizable stories on gossip magazines that were popular in your home country. it was a pity that this was max’s first introduction to these pests. 

you pull max with you as you shove your way roughly through the paparazzi. they deserved it if you accidentally smashed someone’s lens. 

max stumbles behind you. 

“wha-?” he says, holding the half-empty chocolate ice cream. “where are we going?”

you huff. “away from those wannabe photographers- i hate them so much.”

you flip open your phone to call your chauffeur, but your app notifies you it would take a total of ten minutes for him to weave through traffic to get to you both. in the distance, the paparazzi raise their cameras again, shutters clicking as they photograph your pissed off expression and a dumbfounded max next to you. you can practically see the headlines tomorrow- ‘bratty billionaire back in country!!’

like a godsend, a futuristic-looking car rumbles to life next to you. that will probably get you home and away from these fuckers fast, right? hurriedly, you march over to the disgruntled middle-aged man in the passengers’ seat.

“five million for your car- right now.” you say, dead serious. 

the man’s eyes widen comically large. 

“five mi-“

you cut him off quickly, seeing the paparazzi darting closer to max, who was still holding the ice cream and eyeing the cameras wearily. 

“yes, five million. i’ll mail you the check.”

without another word, the man tosses you the keys and hefts himself out of the car. you leap into the drivers seat just as he gets out, and jam your finger on the window down button to beckon max into the car immediately. 

the moment he sits down on the expensive-looking leather seats, you rev the engine and leave the paparazzi behind in the dust. 

it’s not until you are halfway back to your penthouse when max finally speaks. 

“this is a super nice car,” he states, running his hand against the interior side panels. 

you look around, really noticing the detailings of the car. the sides look like they are made with some carbon fiber material, and it seemed like it didn’t even have a door handle- just straps you pull on the corner of the dashboard. 

”yeah, i guess so,” you admit. “i just bought this off of that dude back there in order to get away from the damn paparazzi.”

max wrinkles his brows. 

“you bought-?? what??? you know this is an aston martin valkyrie, right?”

the next morning, when the sun shines through the skyline windows lining your penthouse, you keep your promise by instructing one of your staff to send the promised check to the random guy on the street (fernando, he said his name was). your boyfriend scrolls idly on his phone next to you, probably scrolling through your family’s lengthy wikipedia page again. his cats stamp around your white bedsheets as if they owned the place. you think about what you both could do today. perhaps visit the children’s hospital? before moving to monaco, you frequented many small hospitals, bringing gifts for the children. it always felt good seeing the sick kids light up with joy. or, you could go shopping, although you did spend a little bit much on the random car yesterday. or- 

before you can complete your thought, a familiar ringtone lights up the screen of your phone. your mother’s name lights up your phone, as if taunting you. before you second-guess yourself, you smash your finger into the green ‘answer’ button and place the phone to your ear.

your mother’s voice flows through the speakers, sending a wave of nostalgia throughout your body. 

“darling!” the voice hums, “why didn’t you tell me that you were back in your home country? i had to find out over the silly little paparazzi pictures on the newspapers!” 

damn it, you think, cursing silently in your head. it seemed that the paparazzi from yesterday night had probably sold your pictures to some trashy gossip magazine that had caught the attention of your mother. that meant that you had to face your family sooner or later. 

“hello, mother,” you reply curtly, trying to avoid the topic. “how may i help you?”

your mother tuts through the speakerphone. “oh, your own mother can’t just call to say hello?” 

you groan. “no- i mean yes-“

your mother cuts you off, laughing. “i’m kidding, darling. i just wanted to let you know that i’m hosting a party at our estate tomorrow, to celebrate your arrival! you’ve been in monaco for a god-awful long time. your cousins and siblings will be coming too- i’m sure they’ll all excited to see you after your hiatus in monaco!” 

you hesitate before responding. your first instinct was to say no, because everybody knew full well that the only reason your cousins and siblings even bothered to show up at these kind of events is to save face and show off their new ridiculously expensive clothing and cars, not to welcome you. however, this also gave you a chance for max to meet your parents, like he wanted back in monaco. it isn’t a hard choice when you agree to meet the next day.

max revs the engine once again as he pulls the valkyrie to stop in front of the valet at the front of your family’s estate. 

through the tinted windows of the car, you see one of your snobby cousins, dressed in an jeweled gown, jump at the loud sound and clutch her husband’s arm tighter however, her husband ignores her to get a good look at your aston martin supercar, which makes you laugh. to your surprise, he is not the only one. a few other family members gather around, admiring the hypercar. 

in the passenger’s seat, max’s mischievous grin slowly turns into a frown of nervousness as he spots the crowd of people gathering around you both. you know it must look intimidating, meeting your significant other’s family, especially when they had such high expectations of you. you place a kiss on his cheek. 

“you ready, maxie?” you ask, patting his shoulder comfortingly. 

he nods, before opening the car door. 

like the gentleman he is, max quickly hurries over to the passenger’s side of the car to help you out of the car. you gladly take his hand, and step out of the vehicle daintily. straight away, you can hear the confused mutterings and jealous glares of your family members start up, which follow the both of you into the house. 

like expected, your childhood home is decorated a little over the top. people mingle under crystal chandeliers around staircases draped with real flowers. from the second living room, music drifts out that sounds suspiciously like martin garrix. a fancy bar is set up a room that was usually the dining room, with a bottle of every single alcohol you can ever think of. the courtyard, usually empty save a few plants, was turned into outdoor buffet bar, complete with a five story cake and massive chocolate fountain. 

once inside, max attempts to introduce himself to the first friendly-looking family member that he sees, which happens to be your aunt on your mother’s side. he sticks out his hand, a smile gracing his face. 

“hi, my name is max,” he says, “i’m your niece’s boyfriend.”

your aunt nods politely, shaking his hand. 

“hello max,” she says, visibly studying him, “what are you, a ceo? businessman? sports star?”

”auntie!” you say, shocked, cutting max off from his response. that rude bitch. although she looked relatively kind from the outside, all she really cared about anyone was their power and money. which was probably why your cousin married a mega popstar that was away half the time. like the rest of your family, money trumped true love. “you can’t just start a conversation like that!”

max shakes his head, “no, no, it’s alright. i’m an engineer.”

“ah,” your aunt says, knowingly. taking a sip of her champagne, she continues, “head engineer, huh? of what company?”

thinking he might have misheard her, max corrects her, “oh- no, not head engineer, just an engineer, like in an office.”

your great-aunt’s friendly demeanor automatically drops.

“just an engineer?” she responds, coldly.

you notice how max’s face falls the slightest bit, before he plasters a fake polite smile on his face. he shuffles uncomfortably, glancing at you, as if saying, did i say something wrong?

before you can say something rather rude to your aunt, a hand clasps your shoulder. turning around, your brother beams at you. 

“sister!” he exclaims. “i haven’t seen you in a hot sec. too busy partying in monaco, huh? or doing your silly little business things for redbull?”

he then eyes max, to which he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “who’s this, huh? your boyfriend?”

”yes,” you snap, still a little pissed from your aunt’s rude reaction. 

your brother puts his hands up jokingly, in a surrender position. “damn, okay, no need to be defensive.” 

he sticks out his hand to your boyfriend, who takes it gladly. 

“what’s up, dude,” your brother says, shaking max’s hand. “i saw you pull up with my sister in that sick aston martin valkyrie! you must have some insane connections- the waitlist for that baby is like years long.”

your aunt answers before your boyfriend can. 

“there’s no way he could have bought that car- he’s just an office engineer at some company at who knows where,” she says pointedly.

hearing this, your brother’s impressed look turns into a sneer of disdain. he steps back from max in disgust, as if he had just turned into some horrible monster. he chuckles at you.

”wow, sister, you’ve outdone yourself huh? an office engineer?”

your family, slowly becoming aware of something going on, turns towards the scene. a wide-eyed martin garrix turns off the booming music in the back.

you shove your brother further away from max, causing the glass of champagne to spill onto your brother’s designer suit. 

“what’s wrong with you?” you exclaim angrily. “at least he has a job, unlike you!”

ignoring the bubbling liquid staining his suit and your enraged expression, he turns toward max, still eyeing him with disgust. “how pathetic, leeching off of my sister’s money as a ceo? ha, you probably used her card to buy that valkyrie, didn’t you?”

next to you, stunned into silence, max’s blue eyes begin to fill with tears. 

behind you, your aunt lets out a cackle of laughter, along with a few members of the crowd.

you just about launch yourself at your brother, wanting more than anything to bash his head in.

as if it couldn’t get worse, your mother pushes through the crowd gathered around you both, and grabs your arm before you can make contact with your brother. 

“hey!” she yells, yanking you back. “what is going on here?” 

your brother grins, pointing at max. “your precious daughter went and got herself a little gold digger boyfriend- and look, he’s crying!”

you glance over to max, heart sinking. like your brother said, he had a tear running down his face, and he shook a little with embarrassment. it reminded you of a story that max once told you, how his father had often upset him as a child when he was forced to do karting. an anger flared inside of you. max had only wanted to be a good boyfriend and introduce himself to your family, but was in turn ridiculed in front of a crowd by your hypocrite brother.

your mother turns to max, then turns to you. 

“is this true, darling?” she asks, tilting her head. “does he exploit you for money?”

does max exploit you for money? you can hardly even comprehend the ridiculous sentence. you roughly yank your arm out of your mother’s grasp and march over to max. you lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze. 

you turn towards your chuckling brother. he won’t be laughing soon.

“you’re really one to talk, brother! you think you’re hot shit, with a large chunk of mother’s company stocks. well, wouldn't it be a shame if everyone knew that you are in debt from your uncontrollable gambling problem, hmm? i wonder what your wife feels about that?”

you take comfort in the way the smug smile drops from your brother’s face, now replaced with a withering glare. the silent crowd gathered around the scene lets out a gasp, in light of this news. their focus now was trained on your brother instead of max. 

“and you!” you exclaim, turning to your aunt. “since you think the word gold digger is so funny, auntie, wouldn’t you like to know how your own daughter is one, huh?” 

your aunt jerks back, not used to the crowd’s attention trained on her, along with your harsh words.

”yeah,” you continue, “if you would stop judging people based on their worth in money, you might have been able to see that all she does is spend her husband‘s money on inane things in order to ignore his multiple affairs!”

from the back of the room, you hear your cousin burst into tears while her mother, your aunt, standing in front of you, turns as red as a tomato. 

gently, you lead max towards the gilded gold front door. your family gives you judgemental looks as you make your way through the crowd. turning back one last time before you step out, you address the crowd. “don’t think any of you guys are any better. all you lot do is leech off of trust fund money!”

max stays silent all the way to your penthouse, as do you. after a hot shower, you bundle him up in your soft fluffy blankets until he looks the puft marshmallow man. you can’t help but feel terrible. he silently shuffles towards you, which you respond by pulling his head against your chest. jimmy and sassy watch wearily from a distance on the carpet.

you are the first to cut through the silence. 

“i am so sorry that my family did that to you, maxie.” 

he doesn’t answer, but the new tears that soak your expensive silk pajama set does the answering for him. 

you run your hand through his damp strands of light brown hair, and rub his back comfortingly. 

he pulls back from your embrace to wipe his eyes briefly. 

“why do you love me?” he hiccups, cheeks wet with tears. “like- i have no money, two cats that you hate, and- and- a tiny apartment-“

“max!” you say, cutting him off from his ramblings. “listen to me.” 

you look into his watery eyes, eyelashes wet with tears.

”i really don’t care if you lived in a literal dirt hole with no job, or if you were a formula one world champion. i would love you no matter what. i love your blue eyes and your pouty lips and your lisp, and your cologne, and the bread that you bake, and your little apartment and even though it may not seem like it, i love your stupid cats too.“

he chuckles wetly at the last part of your sentence.

you kiss the top of his head.

”you don’t know how much i love you, max emillian verstappen.”

a devious grin slips onto his face. he shoots you a sultry look. 

“show me.”

and you do.

later, when max lays asleep on the bed, love bites on his neck, face slightly flushed, and back bare, you get up to fetch your phone.

the person you seek is only a few taps away. he picks up on the second ring, politely greeting you even though it was an ungodly hour. you tell him your request, but he hesitates slightly. 

”are you sure-“

you cut your financial advisor off as politely as possible. 

“yes, that’s right. i would like to buy the entirety of my mother’s companies and my father’s estates.”

the sounds of pencil scratching paper fills your ears before your financial advisor lets out a sound of approval. 

“right away, ma’am!”

a/n: APOLOGIES for my week-long hiatus!! take this fic as an apology... your normal spinoff series! scheduling will resume shortly <3

also let me know if you have a better name for this piece- i was STRUGGLING trying to name this one ;-;

[angelicdanvers]

THE CLEARING | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader prompt: “i could admire you all day.” by @normal-internet-user

summary: a sweet moment in the clearing of pearls. takes place before tlt. wc: 1.2k

a/n: i'm back in my luke castellan phase and this time, unapologetically :') ik ik, he's the enemy. totally :D i haven't written in so long, i really hope you guys enjoy this! i eventually will make a collection of these on my wattpad (of the same username). have a great day/night! <3

camp half-blood was just as rhythmic as any other day. the campers were up and running, tending to chores or activities, chiron was introducing some new campers, mr. d had his legs hitched up on the table and was slumbering.

and yet — somehow — something still felt off to y/n. she couldn’t put her finger on it. for a child of ares, she was undeniably observant of her surroundings, ready to feed a punch, but she didn’t see nor feel anyone around. 

often times, she realized it was her subconscious warning her of her siblings’ antics. despite coming off as a cold hearted bitch, y/n was quite the opposite and everyone in camp knew. whether they experienced her dual sidedness face to face, they heard of it and believed it. it wasn’t common for all the ares children, even clarisse, to like one person, sibling, mutually. yet y/n was that sibling.

she didn’t mind it. the eighteen year old was one of the oldest and made it her duty to keep everyone in check, even if that meant going against her easy way out — anger. her siblings often appreciated that despite not showing it, but sometimes clarisse had a lot to say.

this definitely wasn’t one of those times, though.

clarisse had just come by and helped y/n braid two of their younger sisters’ hair, the two chatting normally and without any apparent trouble.

then what in the world kept nagging her?

she kept sensing an odd aura around camp. maybe it was the gods’ doing. maybe.

sighing, she sat on the cabin floor, watching as the last of her brothers walked out. she began tying her laces, fixing the tongue on her boots. her instincts picked up as she heard soft crunches from the side of the cabin. grabbing her sword, she walked out diligently, observing the area around her and positioning the sword towards the crunches. she carefully examined the reflection, absolutely no sight of anyone. stiff, she shrugged off her unease, heading down the paths and to her clearing.

the clearing had a waterfall cascading at the heart, a sparkling little pool in the centre. for nine in the morning, the earth was still dewy and the crisp scent of the woodlands surrounded her senses.

inhaling deeply, y/n stepped towards her favourite boulder and slid her shirt off. one by one, she stripped down until she was in her bikini, and fixed her locks to be appropriate for swimming. once ready, she slowly dipped her foot in, the coolness of the water pulsing through her body and sending a jolt within her. 

a mere moment later, y/n was wading in the water, beginning to take laps around the pool. she always had a surge of energy in water that always made her wonder if she was actually poseidon’s daughter — of course, she wasn’t, but maybe she had to thank him for her love of water. maybe. maybe it was just her and the gods really didn't impact her.

submerging underneath, the girl opened her eyes and scanned the bottom. on her lucky days, she’d find little pearls the nymphs would leave behind. she'd have to personally thank them one day. her growing collection was all towards making special beads for campers who’d been there for a significant amount of time, symbolizing their individuality. she was thinking of giving annabeth and luke one to add to their necklaces before all else.

squinting, y/n saw a shimmering area in the corner. charging towards it, she picked it up and examined it with her hands; the water was getting rather hazy. these pearls were heavier, and with more texture than she’d ever felt.

smiling to herself, she carefully held it within her palms, swimming further up and merging out of water. she felt the sun shining on her, and she braced for the sudden light adjustment.

and then the sun was gone.

her brows furrowed, and y/n cracked open an eye, glancing towards where she felt the sun mere moments ago. instead of trees and simple clouds, she saw a lean figure wearing an orange shirt and khaki cargos, arms folded across their chest. she knew those arms.

“gods, what are you doing here?” y/n questioned, slightly lowering herself into the water and staring at the male before her.

he stifled a chuckle, his signature smirk playing on his lips. “what? can’t a guy be with his girlfriend?”

“luke,” she warned, “didn’t we agree to not be around each other unless we actually had a plan to sneak off?”

the curly haired boy shrugged. “like that’ll stop me.”

“luke, c’mon. if anything, we can’t have anyone find out like this.”

he shook his head, “they won’t know a thing.” he nodded towards annabeth’s cap. 

y/n had to admit, his desperation to be with her in any way was the most adorable and hot thing she’d ever witnessed. “did you at least ask her for it?”

“yes ma’am.”

y/n smiled toothily, wading towards the edge and climbing out. luke watched her every move, enthralled by her beauty. he wasn’t sure how he even convinced her to go on that first date, considering she had a knee on his chest and a sword to his neck. too bad he’s the best swordsman and pinned her down next. 

how could she say no after that?

she found him quite intriguing as well.

luke followed his girl as she went over to the boulder, grabbing her towel and gently drying herself off. he headed up behind her, taking the towel from her arms and drying her back off for her. 

“that still hasn’t healed,” he noted, tracing the scar on her shoulder blade. y/n’s body melted at his touch, and the chills she felt were replaced with flames. 

“yeah,” she whispered as luke softly turned her around, wrapping the towel around her body. he brought her body closer to his, putting his index to her chin and tilting her head up.

“you know, i could admire you all day.”

“and why is that?”

he laughed, “with that sexy soul and sweet hobby of collecting pearls, how could i not?”

y/n felt her cheeks grow hot, a soft grin making its way to her face. “i could say the same, pretty boy.”

"who are you giving those pearls to?"

"if i said who, wouldn't the surprise be ruined?" she quirked, tilting her head to the side a little. "eh, word on the street keeps mentioning the best swordsman."

luke smirked, satisfied with her answer, his black hair gleaming in the sly sunlight. y/n cupped the left side of his face, tracing her fingers on the scar to his right. their eyes couldn’t leave one another’s, an enigmatic energy floating amongst them.

“i want to kiss you,” luke’s voice was lower than before, his grip tightening around her waist.

“do it,” y/n mustered up, fluster traversing through every bone in her body. 

without second thought, luke pressed the girl against his body, capturing her lips. y/n’s fingers trailed to his hair, tugging at the curls as their lips intwined passionately.

the teenagers yearned for each other, their love enveloping around them as they remained  in their locked position. luke’s lips were as light as a feather but had a hold on y/n that she was sure no other could.

breathless, the two pulled away for a moment before luke pulled her in again for a quick, feverish kiss. “i love you,” he rasped, staring deep into her riveting eyes.

“i love you, luke.”

their admiration could only grow from there. 

or so they thought.

[macgyvermedical]

Hospital Lengths of Stay

I think people outside the USA severely overestimate how long hospital stays are here.

Like, appendectomy, right? That's maybe 24-36 hours door-to-door if there's no complications. If the appendix actually burst it might be 3 days, but only because they're giving you IV antibiotics and setting up home care to do that at home would take longer than just keeping you in the hospital.

A scheduled surgery like a hysterectomy, cholecystectomy, mastectomy, or anything else they can do laparoscopically (though small "keyhole" incisions)? You're probably not staying overnight at all.

Planned surgeries that need some kind of after care (like bariatric surgery, knee replacements, hip replacements, total vaginal hysterectomies, bladder lifts, etc...) would be usually 1-3 days.

Minor heart attack? 2-3 days.

Fracture and surgical repair of a large bone (like the femur)? About 2-3 days.

What about the exacerbation of a chronic illness like asthma, COPD, heart failure, or hypertension? IF they admit you (not just stabilize and discharge from the emergency department), it will be generally less than about 3-5 days.

Gunshot wound to the abdomen with surgery to repair things? 3-5 days.

And a stroke, sepsis, gunshot wound to the chest, or major heart attack? That would be somewhere in the 5-7 day range.

Severe trauma with multiple severely broken bones and relatively extensive surgery? This might be somewhat longer, but usually for nursing and pain control reasons rather than the surgery or injuries themselves. 1-3 weeks would be usual.

In the hospital for a mental health reason like decompensated schizophrenia or major depression? A little less than a week is normal, though some people stay several weeks if medications aren't working well.

The people who stay in hospitals for weeks or months typically have whole systems that don't work, or are waiting for a major organ transplant. For example, I had a patient once whose entire abdomen was open and couldn't be closed surgically. She was on TPN (IV nutrition) and IV antibiotics and needed massive amounts of wound care done every hour or so because her intestinal contents were spilling out of her open abdomen. She was there for months and ultimately didn't make it.

Are there people who stay longer than these cases? Of course! These are just averages pulled from medicaid data and personal experiences, based on patients who are coming in relatively healthy. Patients who have other significant health problems usually stay longer than patients who come in with a single problem.

But if you are otherwise healthy except for the reason you came into the hospital, unless you fell off a building or were in a massive car accident you are probably not staying in the hospital very long at all.

[mythicalmaven]

hiya! Could i please have number 1 with charles leclerc from the prompt list please? Extra smutty with a super needy reader please xxx

Racing Pulse - Charles LeClerc (request)

Masterlist ↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!driver!reader ↳word count: 1,9K ↳prompts used: 1 - 'Use my thigh" ↳warnings: reader is an f1 academy driver, charles and her are friends, thigh riding, voyeurism (kind of? if you count charles letting her use his thigh), masturbation (sort of) ↳summary: The reader is a driver for the f1 academy & finds herself very very sexually frustrated before the race, leading to Charles offering her a way to relief herself.

The roar of engines echoes through the garage, a constant reminder of the race ticking closer with every passing second. But no matter how hard you try to focus, your mind keeps wandering, pulled back to the gnawing frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface. You’re pacing, restless, the usual pre-race jitters replaced by something far more distracting. You’re wound so tight you think you might snap, and it’s only making the tension worse.

Just as you were about to kick against the wall, you catch Charles watching you from across the room. His eyes narrow, noticing your agitation, and before you can look away, he’s already making his way over, concern laced in his steady stride. “You look like you’re about to combust,” he says, his voice pitched low, so only you can hear. “What’s going on?”

You roll your eyes, trying to brush off his teasing, but the tension inside you only tightens. "Nothing, nothing," you huff, attempting to sound normal, but the frustration seeps through. "Everything is going peachy."

Charles raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Yeah, totally, that's why you were about to kick a table, huh?" he quips, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

A frustrated sigh escapes you, and you run a hand through your hair, the pent-up energy making it impossible to stay still. "Okay, fine," you admit, glancing around to make sure no one else is within earshot. "I'm just... sexually frustrated, alright?"

He blinks, then a laugh bubbles out of him, not mocking but genuinely amused by your candid confession. "Seriously? That’s what’s got you all twisted up?"

You huff again, this time more at yourself than at him. "Yes, Charles. And it’s driving me insane. And no, I’m not joking."

His laughter fades, but the smile remains, a little softer now. "I could help with that, you know," he says, surprising you with the seriousness in his tone.

You furrow your brow, tilting your head to the side. "Do you, though? I mean, this isn’t just some casual frustration. I need... well, you know."

Charles steps closer, his expression unreadable, but his eyes are locked on yours. "Yeah, I know," he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. As he looked at you, leaning against the wall, he moved to the table near you, leaning against it with his backside, his hands behind him on the table to hold him up.

You blink, processing his words. "Wouldn't it be weird," you start, hesitating slightly, "You know, most friends don’t just... do that. And besides, we don't even have time to go anywhere private, the race is starting soon"

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Friends are supposed to help each other out, aren’t they?"

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s pulling you in by your wrist, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And even if you let me help, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere."

You raise an eyebrow, confusion flickering across your face. "Charles, how—?"

"Use my thigh," he murmurs, his tone calm but with an edge of something darker. His gaze flickers to the shadows around you, the secluded corner of the garage where the angle and low light provide a surprising amount of privacy. "No one would be able to see from here. And with the noise out there, it’ll just look like we’re talking, getting close to hear each other better."

Your breath catches, the idea sparking something deep within you. The tension that’s been gnawing at you suddenly has an outlet, and the suggestion is as thrilling as it is scandalous.

For a moment, you hesitate, the absurdity of the situation battling with the undeniable pull of desire. But Charles's gaze is steady, reassuring, and there's something in the way he looks at you—like this is just another challenge, another hurdle to overcome together.

You swallow hard, nodding ever so slightly. The moment the decision is made, Charles shifts closer, his hands finding your waist as he guides you to straddle his thigh. The heat of his body seeps through the fabric of your suit, and the tension you’ve been battling for hours seems to tighten and ease all at once.

“Just relax,” Charles murmurs, his voice low and husky, the vibration of his words sending a shiver down your spine. He pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against him, the thickness of his thigh positioned perfectly between your legs. “No one can see a thing, I promise.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as his hands settle on your hips. He gives an experimental roll of his thigh, and the friction against your clothed core draws a sharp gasp from your lips. The sensation is maddening, just enough to stoke the fire that’s been smoldering inside you, but not nearly enough to satisfy.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your ear. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I can feel how much you need this.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet, but he’s relentless. His hands guide your movements, encouraging you to grind against him, each subtle shift sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The friction is delicious, the pressure just right, and it’s all the more intense because of how forbidden it feels, knowing anyone could walk by at any moment.

“Charles,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and disbelief. You feel him lean in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Let go,” he murmurs, his tone dropping to a seductive rumble. “No one can hear you over the engines. No one’s watching. It’s just us.”

His words are your undoing. You start to move with more purpose, pressing down harder, seeking out that sweet spot that will tip you over the edge. Charles tightens his grip on your hips, guiding you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that’s both torturous and perfect.

You begin to rock your hips against Charles’s thigh, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. The need that’s been gnawing at you for days flares up, making you desperate, and you can’t help but lean your head on his shoulder, seeking the comfort of his warmth as you move. Each grind sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you cling to him, trying to suppress the whimpers that threaten to escape.

Charles’s breath hitches slightly, but he stays composed, his hands steady on your hips as he guides your movements. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, lips brushing against your ear. “So needy, so desperate… What’s got you so worked up like this?”

You let out a small, frustrated whine, your voice strained with need. “I-I haven't really had.. any sex lately,” you admit, your words barely a whisper as you press yourself harder against him, trying to find the relief you crave.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Poor thing,” he coos, a teasing edge to his tone. “You know, I could always help you with that… if you want. All you have to do is say the word.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a moan as the pleasure builds, the fabric of your clothes rubbing deliciously against your throbbing core. The wetness between your legs is undeniable now, soaking through your panties, your racing suit and onto his thigh. You know he can feel it too, and the realization only makes you grind down harder, your desperation growing with every passing second.

A small, breathless moan escapes you, and in a desperate attempt to stifle the sound, you lean in and bite down lightly on Charles’s shoulder. His grip on your hips tightens, a soft groan escaping his lips as you continue to grind against him.

“Charles, I need more,” you whimper, the words slipping out in a moment of vulnerability. Your voice is heavy with desperation, your body trembling with the effort to find release.

Charles’s breath is warm against your ear as he leans in closer. “Oh, chérie, I’d give you everything you want, mon amour,” he whispers, his voice like velvet. “But you don’t have time, remember? You have a race to win.”

His words are a cruel tease, and the ache between your legs only intensifies. He continues to guide your movements, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that keeps you on the edge, but never lets you fall over it.

“If we had the time,” Charles murmurs, his tone dark and seductive, “I’d have you spread out in front of me, completely bare. I’d take my time with you, taste every inch of you until you’re begging for more.”

Your breath hitches at his words, the vivid image sending a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you. You can’t help but glance down, your eyes widening slightly when you see the clear outline of his erection straining against his jeans. The sight of him, hard and ready beneath you, only spurs you on, and you quicken your pace, grinding down on him with more urgency.

Charles’s breath grows heavier, his chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. “God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice laced with need. “I love seeing you like this, so desperate, so willing to take what you need.”

Just as you feel yourself getting close, the heat building to a fever pitch, someone walks past, calling out a quick greeting. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as you fight to keep your breathing steady. Charles’s hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he nods in acknowledgment, a casual smile on his face as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

Once the person is out of sight, Charles relaxes, letting out a breath he’s been holding. “We have to be careful,” he whispers, his tone a mix of warning and thrill. “Can’t have anyone catching us, can we?”

Without waiting for your response, he resumes the slow, deliberate grind, guiding you back into that maddening rhythm. The brief interruption only heightens the intensity, and you find yourself clinging to him, desperate for release.

“Come on,” Charles whispers, his voice both encouraging and commanding. “Go for it. I want to see you fall apart for me.”

His words, combined with the relentless friction and the feeling of his hard thigh pressing against you, push you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your body straining for that sweet release.

“I’m… I’m close,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable.

Charles responds by leaning in, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck in a barely-there kiss. To anyone watching, it would seem as if he’s simply whispering something to you, but the intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race even faster.

“Come for me, mon amour,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. “I want to feel you let go.”

The combination of his words, the sensation of his lips on your neck, and the relentless pressure between your legs sends you spiraling over the edge. Your body tenses, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the orgasm crashes through you, waves of pleasure radiating out from your core. You bury your face in Charles’s shoulder, biting down on his jacket to muffle the sound, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it.

Charles’s hands hold you steady, guiding you through every pulse and shudder, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. “That’s it,” he whispers, his tone filled with a mix of pride and desire. “Good girl. Let it all out.”

Masterlist

[les4elliewilliams]

bound by love // ex-girlfriend!ellie

☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆

daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

wc/warnings: 5.6k ; strap-on sex (r!receiving), tribbing, oral (r!receiving), cheating, use of names like whore, slut, baby etc. and toxic relationship. do NOT read if you're sensitive about this kind of stuff!! do not romanticize toxic relationships and run far away from toxic people.

a/n: also first time writing smut so please be kind😭. not proofread so i'm sorry if you find any mistakes

pairing: toxic!ellie, ex-girlfriend!ellie also stalker!ellie???(just ellie stalking your social media and location) and jealous!ellie ig.

☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆

I know that you're shitty and you're bad for me

But I can't stop thinking 'bout it

✩ You used to console yourself by saying that the problem was not you but her. You believed that she was the one who caused all the issues in the relationship. However, as time passed, you started to realize that the situation was more complex than you initially thought. You began to question your own actions and words and wondered if you could have done things differently. You tried to stay positive by reminding yourself that sometimes things don't work out, and it's okay to move on. But you couldn't move on.

✩ Despite all your efforts to move on and forget about her, you always found yourself drawn back to her for some weird reason. You tried everything you could think of to let her go — you blocked her on every platform you could, hoping it would help you move on, but it never seemed to work. No matter how hard you tried to forget her, you always ended up unblocking her, usually within an hour of blocking her. It was as if you were powerless to resist the pull she had on you, no matter how much you wanted to be free of her.

✩ You were the one who broke up with her, claiming she was too toxic for you. However, you cannot deny that you also had your fair share of faults. Both of you were aware of the toxicity in your relationship, but still, it lasted for three whole years. You often wonder how you were able to tolerate her for so long. She always seemed to go out of her way to provoke you and get a reaction out of you. She would intentionally make you jealous, making nasty comments about other women's bodies to make you insecure and maybe even cry. She loved it when you got possessive and jealous; that was the only way she felt cared for and loved. She constantly needed reassurance, and her overthinking would stop only when you got possessive of her or extremely jealous; it didn't make sense, and she knew it wasn't normal, yet she couldn't help herself. But it wasn't only that. She was also extremely manipulative and a liar. It was a never-ending cycle of negativity, and both of you were caught up in it.

✩ If she was a toxic girlfriend, imagine how toxic she was once you two were broken up. When you broke up with her, you thought you were better off as friends, but soon enough, you started to realize how wrong you were.

✩ Even though she treated you poorly throughout your relationship, you always returned to her. Your love for her was strong, and it seemed as though returning to her was the only thing that felt right. Even though she was responsible for causing you a significant amount of emotional pain, she still felt like home to you — like the person who you could always run to whenever you needed it. She always knew the right thing to say to calm you down, cheer you up, and sometimes even make you cry. That was the thing about Ellie that confused you the most; She could be either the best person ever or the worst.

✩ When something big goes down in your life, she's the one you call up first. It doesn't matter if it's something totally dumb or something that seriously ticks you off, she's the one you rely on for comfort and support, and she's always there to baby you.

"S'okay baby— mhm, you got this," whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you rambled about your day "Want me to beat them up for you? You know I would," and she wasn't kidding, sending whoever made you mad to the ER without you even knowing it. You have always been someone who disliked violence. In fact, you were never the kind of person who would resort to violence, no matter how heated a situation may have been. You've always been the rational one between the two of you, thinking things through before acting. On the other hand, she was more impulsive, acting without much thought or consideration for the consequences of her actions. Anyway, you would find out what Ellie did to your coworker when he showed up with a cast around his arm, threatening to take legal action against her. You always found yourself in the middle of the conflict, pleading with your coworker not to sue Ellie and trying to smooth things over.

✩ Lots of

"you're the hottest girl i've ever dated" "i would take you back in a heartbeat" "i still have a soft spot for you" "best pussy i've ever had"

✩ She'd randomly show up at your place in the middle of the night, pounding on your door, little did you know she'd be pounding into you the second you let her in

"nfuckk— my pussy…s'all mine" Murmuring nonsense into the crook of your neck as she fucked your tight little hole with the new strap she desperately wanted to show you (which became your favorite for obvious reasons). "think anyone else can make you feel like this, hm?" and she wouldn't let you cum if you didn't reply, she wanted to hear you say that you belonged to her and her only.

✩ She constantly checked your social media accounts like a fucking maniac, fearing that you may have moved on or started spending time with other girls. This behavior was not healthy, and she was aware of it. Despite that, she couldn't help herself and even had access to your location, which she used to stalk you whenever you didn't respond to her messages or calls quickly enough. On two separate occasions, she unexpectedly showed up while you were on dates with other girls. At first, you brushed it off as a coincidence, but after the second time, you realized that she still had your location and that her sudden appearance was not coincidental at all. Therefore, you turned off the location sharing. and in no time she was blowing up your phone with texts

"why the fuck would you turn it off?" "moving on already?" "where the fuck do you even think you're going?" "try all you want, but you know who you belong to"

✩ It became increasingly clear that you and her were not meant to be friends. You still belonged to her in her mind — and perhaps it wasn't just in her mind. Deep down, you knew that she was right even though you were no longer together.

✩ Although you had repeatedly told Ellie that you wouldn't get back together, she remained convinced that you would eventually return. Instead of giving up, she actively pursued ways to reconnect with you. She would often surprise you by showing up at your apartment with a bouquet of your favorite flowers or things she knew you would like.

"Ellie, what're you doin' here?" you asked as you saw your ex-girlfriend holding a lovely bouquet of flowers in her hand. You were taken aback as you looked at the bouquet  — it was a Hello Kitty bouquet. You had mentioned this type of bouquet to Ellie before you broke up, and you were surprised that she even listened to you when you kept rambling about how cute it was. You had seen it on Pinterest before and never thought she would remember. Her green eyes met yours, and she scratched the back of her neck before flashing a warm smile your way. She knew you'd love it.  "Hi, angel," she said. She handed you the bouquet and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. Her free hand quickly found its way to your waist. She leaned back enough to gauge your reaction and asked with a cocky smile, "What d'you think?" The sudden appearance of Ellie took you aback, but you couldn't help but admire the bouquet in your hands. The Hello Kitty plushie and the colorful flowers were so cute. You didn't expect her to remember your love for this particular bouquet, but you were grateful that she did. "May I come in?" Her tone was confident, and her eyes shone with a mischievous glint. You couldn't help but wonder what she was up to, but you stepped aside to let her in nonetheless.

✩ She would listen intently to everything you said during your relationship and make mental notes of all the things you wanted or needed. However, she never acted on them until you broke up with her. Suddenly, she would start getting you those things, being the girlfriend you always wanted her to be, trying to convince you to give her another chance. But you weren't stupid; you knew that as soon as you let her back into your life, she would go back to her usual self, and her toxic behavior would come out once again.

✩ She showered you with compliments, gifts, and attention, making you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered to her. When she realized that her love bombing wasn't working on you, she changed her tactics. She began dating a girl she had always insisted was "just a friend," even though you had always felt insecure about her because you thought she was prettier than you. But Ellie was using this girl only to get to you. She wanted to make you jealous and make you feel like you were missing out on something she could provide. She hoped you would come back to her, begging for another chance. You were devastated and couldn't help but compare yourself to this other girl, wondering what Ellie saw in Dina that she didn't see in you. But as time passed, you began to realize that Ellie was playing games. She didn't care about this girl, or about anyone else for that matter. To her, you were the one that got away, the one that she couldn't have. And so she used this other girl as a pawn in her game, hoping to win you back. But you didn't fall for it.

✩ She just went ahead and started posting pictures with her new girlfriend on Instagram to make sure you saw them and felt like shit. And, well, it worked like a charm. Even though you knew she was doing it on purpose to upset you, it still hurt like hell because she never posted pictures of the two of you together on social media, claiming she preferred to keep things private but as soon as she started dating her new girlfriend, she suddenly started posting about her non-stop, which made you feel even more hurt and insecure.

✩ You realized that cutting ties with Ellie and blocking her from all platforms would have been the wise thing to do. but let's be honest, getting revenge felt much more satisfying than being wise sometimes. You wanted to show her that you were not someone to be toyed with cause that's what you felt like: a toy. You started seeing a girl you had recently met, but you made sure not to make it too obvious. You didn't want Ellie to think you were only doing it to get back at her. Of course not, it had to look natural. You wanted to show her that you had moved on with your life and that you were over her. Even though it was quite the opposite, you weren't over her.

✩ When you began sharing pictures of your new girlfriend, she dropped her fake composed demeanor and started bombarding your phone with messages. You finally had her exactly where you wanted her.

2:33 am "who the fuck is that girl in your story?" 2:34 am "hello?" 2:36 am "answer your goddamn phone" 2:37 am "Why do you even care, Ellie? you're in a relationship." 2:39 am "what the actual fuck" 2:42 am "tell me" 2:46 am "who is she" 2:53 am "My girlfriend."

✩ After that, she vanished from social media and every other platform for nearly a week, leaving you on read. You had mixed emotions about it. On one hand, you felt a sense of pride for getting back at her. It was working because she seemed jealous. On the other hand, there was a part of you that couldn't help but miss her. You longed for her presence and wished she would come back. Her presence wasn't the only thing you longed for; you missed her hands all over your body, touching you just in the right places. She knew you like the back of her hand. She knew exactly how to make you arch your back and make you scream her name.

✩ You couldn't cum. It had been weeks, maybe a month, and your little friend down there was starting to ache. You were horny, so fucking horny, but you couldn't cum. All you could think of was your fucking ex-girlfriend almost as if your pussy had a mind of her own. Not even your favorite toys were helping. it felt good, but you felt like something was missing. You reached out to the nightstand and grabbed your phone, unlocking the screen with a swift gesture and opened the messaging app. It was wrong, so wrong and you knew you would regret it the next day, but you needed her. Your fingers moved effortlessly across the virtual keyboard as you typed a message to her.

 1:15 am "Els, I know it's wrong but"  1:15 am "I'm horny"  1:16 am "I need you, please"

You let out a deep sigh of frustration as ten long minutes ticked by, convinced she wouldn't text you back. The last conversation you had hadn't gone well, and you were starting to think it was all over between the two of you, for real this time. Just as you were about to give up and put your phone back on the nightstand, you heard a familiar chime. Your heart leaped into your throat as you saw that it was her.

1:27 am "lol your little gf can't make you feel good like i do?" 1:29 am "omw"

In just 10 minutes, she was back in your apartment, in your arms, and inside you. It was almost like nothing happened like she hadn't just made you cry for a whole month for getting with the girl who made you deeply insecure. All her 8 inches buried deep into your soaked hole, stretching it out and making it hurt, but it felt good. "Is this what you wanted, hm?" she kept mumbling random things into the crook of your neck, not that you were listening to anything she was saying; she was fucking you dumb, and you couldn't seem to focus on anything else but her thick strap pounding into you relentlessly, hitting your cervix just right. You were a mess, literally. "Ellie...nngfuck.. slow down" you breathed out between incoherent moans, panting like a fucking dog in heat "Take it, slut. Show me how much you missed me." She hissed, thrusting hard into you, all your juices spilling out of your pussy, making a mess on your pink sheets. All she wanted to do was destroy you, mark you as hers.

"C-can't," you whined as pornographic moans left your throat. She groaned deep in her throat, savoring the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, almost as if her life depended on them. She missed this so much. She missed you so much. She increased the pace, pushing deeper into you each time. Her hands moved to your hips, gripping them tightly as she continued to thrust her hips against yours, her thrusts becoming faster and harder, your breath coming out in heavy gasps. "So fucking tight, baby," she panted, her voice hoarse with need "You belong to me, don't you?" She bit down on your neck, her teeth grazing lightly against your delicate skin, leaving behind a mark as evidence of her claim over you; you whimpered at the sensation. You were hers, no one else's. She wanted to mark you all over, hoping your girlfriend would see the hickeys on your breasts and neck the next day.

All you could do was nod frantically, "m'yours, all yours" you babbled out, painfully arching your back. So fucking incoherent. Especially after promising yourself that you would never let her lay a finger on you ever again. But you were desperate, you needed to cum, and you needed her right now. "That's my girl, only I can fuck you like this, yeah?" Her hands roamed all over your body, pinching your nipples and rubbing your throbbing nub harshly. She wanted to hear you beg for her and admit how much you needed her. She needed you to need her.

"Tell me how much you missed my cock." She demanded, slamming into you again and again. Your high-pitched moans filled the room, each one driving her wilder. She could feel her own climax building as her clit bumped against the back of her strap with each thrust; the sound of your pleas combined with the tightness of your pussy around her strap-on were enough to push her closer and closer to the edge. You felt that familiar sensation build in your stomach; you were close. "Soo much, ahhh!...missed it, yeah.." you couldn't even put together a proper sentence. Her grip on your hips tightened, tugging slightly as she continued to thrust into you, hitting the spot that had you rolling your eyes into the back of your skull, over and over until you couldn't hold back anymore.

"That's it, whore. Cum for me. You don't belong to anyone else," she snarled, her voice laced with possession. She knew just what to do or say to push you over the edge, and it worked every single time; that's why you ran to her whenever you needed a good fuck. She could feel your body tensing up and your pretty pussy clenching around her strap-on. You came simultaneously, your combined moans filling your cozy bedroom, her well-defined abdominal muscles glistening with a thin layer of sweat. She rolled you over, so now you were on top of her, riding out your orgasm on her silicone cock as she ground her clit against the back of her strap.  "Oooh fuuuck!" you cried out as pretty moans left your mouth. She took in the sight of you on top of her, her strap still buried deep inside you, riding her cock; your tits bounced as you did so, a sight that she loved. No one did it like you. No one was remotely as good as you. She took a glimpse of your cum sliding down the strap, you were so fucking wet, and nasty wet sounds filled the room, but she loved it. "Fuck, baby," she groaned, clenching her teeth tightly together, causing her jaw muscles to bulge prominently. Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you moved your hips, setting the pace, your eyes locked on hers the entire time. Her fingers dug into your skin, leaving small marks that she knew would fade within hours but would always remind her of this moment. Her veiny hand reached up, grabbing one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly and twisting the nipple between her fingers. Your breath came out in ragged gasps, her eyes never leaving yours as she watched you take her cock like the fucking slut you were. "Taking me so well, such a good girl f'me, aren't ya?"

"El..." you whined as she toyed with your nipple. You weren't going to last long; you were still sensitive and your pussy couldn't handle it. "'m gonna cum again!" you cried out once again, bouncing faster on her thick strap. She watched you with unabashed hunger, her eyes never leaving your body as it moved above her. She thrust up, meeting your movements, pushing you closer to the edge. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with your thrusts and the strap disappearing inside your juicy-coated pussy almost made Ellie cum right then and there. Your thighs started to tremble, and she could feel you clench around her dick; your gasps and moans becoming more frequent. She wasted no time, her fingers digging into your hips as she slammed you down on her strap, making you cry out her name, "Just like that, yeah...take it."

When you finally collapsed against her, panting heavily, Ellie couldn't help but smile. "Mine," she rasped, her voice thick with possession and satisfaction. As your bodies finally came down from their highs, breaths slowly returning to normal, she pulled out of you, leaving your wet and sore pussy gaping open. You whined at the sensation, suddenly feeling empty.

The smile plastered on her face faded as you pulled away, the coldness in your voice seeping into the air between you two as you told her to return to her girlfriend. She reluctantly mimicked your movements and sat up, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes met yours, searching for any trace of warmth or affection, but all she found was distance. She grabbed her clothes and started to dress herself quickly, trying to calm down, her movements precise and controlled, hiding the hurt and anger she felt at your words. She was confused. You had called her, and she thought you were ready to take her back into your life. She wasn't expecting you to discard her like a toy. "I see how it is," she muttered, her voice cold and distant. She gathered her belongings, not meeting your gaze. "I shouldn't have come here." When she was fully clothed, Ellie turned to face you, her eyes filled with regret and anger.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," your tone coming off as sharp and cold. You put your shirt on, struggling to process what happened. You missed her so fucking much, and the sex with her was also something you missed a lot. You knew she was right when she told you that no one could fuck you like she did; your girlfriend couldn't even make you cum, while Ellie knew precisely how to touch you to make you feel good. "Can't believe it...Dina, really?" you muttered under your breath as you got dressed, catching her off guard. Your outburst was so sudden neither you could understand it. She could sense the jealousy in your voice and knew exactly what was going on, and the realization made her feel a twinge of satisfaction. "Is this what it's all about? Me fucking with Dina?" she scoffed, her eyes rolling in annoyance. But despite her outward annoyance, she was secretly glad you still cared and got jealous. It meant that you had never indeed gotten over her. You struggled to maintain eye contact with her, the words "Just…get out" barely escaped your lips. You felt a burning sense of shame for letting your jealousy get the best of you, but at the same time, you couldn't help but release all the pent-up emotions you had been holding in for so long.

She snorted from her nose, shaking her head in disbelief, almost amused by all this "Just say the word, and I'll dump her ass," she said in a flat tone, her emerald green eyes staring right back at you as she placed her hands on her hips. You could tell she was serious, as there was a hint of desperation in her voice. She was hoping you'd ask her to drop Dina's ass and come back to you, but of course, you didn't. "I would do anything for you" desperate, so fucking desperate. You let out a deep sigh and firmly shook your head, looking into her eyes. You could see the pain and desperation in her gaze, but you couldn't just let her back into your life like that. "Go," you repeated yourself. "Fine, whatever," she sounded so pissed, disappointed. For a moment, you wanted to take your words back, but you knew that letting her into your life again was the worst idea ever.

✩ That night only made it incredibly difficult for you to move on from her (not that you could before), but she was all you could think of. You found yourself constantly yearning for her at every moment of the day. You'd often text her, and she would always come over, no matter what she was in the middle of. She was willing to drop everything to be with you and 8 inches inside you or between your thighs. Even if she was out with Dina, she didn't seem to care — it became obvious that something was going on between you and Ellie. You couldn't understand how Dina couldn't tell that Ellie was cheating on her with you.

6:34 pm "Baby, need you" 6:36 pm "I'm so wet, been thinking about you all day :(" 6:37 pm "proof??"

✩ One of the things you used to do quite regularly was sending her nudes. You would send her nudes on Snapchat unexpectedly, mostly to surprise her or get some sort of reaction from her. Sending snaps to tease her was one of your favorite things to do. Whether it was a picture of you in sexy lingerie or a video of you playing with your pussy, riding the purple strap she had left at your place weeks ago. You loved making her horny, and it always worked. She would always end up knocking at your door, eager to fuck you or eat you out.

"Teasin' me like that in public — tsskk," She mumbled against your throbbing core as she teased your clit with her tongue. Your legs were on her shoulders, and you watched her head disappear between your thighs. Your fingers tightly gripped into her auburn hair as she devoured like a starved animal, so pussy drunk. But even in that state, she was such a sight.

✩ You were the only one she could think about, even when fucking her girlfriend. Her mind too fixated on the cute little whimpers that left your mouth when she was inside you or sucking on your clit. The way your legs trembled when you were close, your hips jerking away from her when it became too much for you. No one could make her wet like you did, it was a fucking curse having to fuck someone else while thinking of you, hoping that would be enough to trick her brain into thinking she was fucking you instead.

✩ She would save each of your snaps into her phone's gallery and meticulously organize them into a special and hidden folder she had created just for you. This folder contained not just your nudes but plenty of other stuff — from intimate pictures you'd send her to videos she'd take while fucking you. She would go through the folder occasionally for personal use (iykwim).

✩ Your girlfriend was quick to pick up on something odd going on. She'd notice how you would turn your phone upside down, making sure the screen was facing whatever surface to make sure she wouldn't see your ex-girlfriend spamming your phone with texts (she would do it on purpose, by the way). That's how she knew something was up, but for some odd reason, she brushed it off.

✩ She was fed up with your stupid girlfriend constantly in the way. Why weren't you breaking up with her already? She couldn't understand; she was trying to be the best version of herself for you, yet you were still not hers. She tried everything to get you caught, like texting you while your girlfriend was around, sending you risky snaps, calling you...but nothing seemed to be working. So, she decided to hurry things up by texting your girlfriend and sending her some evidence.

She selected a video from her gallery to send to your girlfriend, writing a text message to go along with it before hitting the 'send' button "is this ur girl?" In the video, she was strapping you from behind, and you were telling her exactly what she needed to hear, "Better than your stupid girlfriend, yeah?" "Y-yes. Oooh fuckk. nhhmmm...faster, please" "Can she fuck you like this, hmm?" "No one can fuck me like y-you do...pleaseplease faster"

✩ Your girlfriend felt hurt and betrayed after realizing that you were using her to make your ex jealous, and she ended things between you two. You didn't seem to be affected by the breakup significantly, as if you had been expecting it all along. Honestly, it was almost as if the relationship never existed to you.

✩ Despite feeling indifferent towards your recent breakup, you were furious that Ellie had been the one who caused the end of your relationship. Who was she to control your life in such a way? Well, she couldn't give a fuck, to be quite honest. Seeing you with other girls consumed her from the inside. Nevertheless, she did not break up with Dina.

✩ But of course, you couldn't just let it slide. You already had a plan.

You were at Ellie's place, your back pressed onto her messy blankets, your leg on top of her shoulder as she held the other one firm, adjusting herself on top of you, to be more precise... on your pussy; grinding her wet pussy against your dripping cunt as filthy wet sounds and whimpers echoed in the room. Her hips moved in a slow motion, her green forest eyes fixated on yours. You reached to her nightstand to grab her phone, "Can I...nghhm... record us, baby?" you managed to utter between soft moans as she rode you, her movements became more desperate, chasing her own orgasm. "Record how good m'fuckin' this pussy?" her voice was husky, her breath ragged. Her head rolled back as she continued to grind against you, moaning at the friction, and her eyes fluttered shut. You unlocked her phone and quickly went through her contacts, pressing on Dina's name to start the call. Although the plan seemed foolish and overused, it worked out perfectly.

Dina appeared at Ellie's doorstep in no time to shout at her while you listened from her bedroom. You were amused by the drama that was unfolding before you. It was entertaining to watch Ellie deny the evidence. Dina's voice rose higher and higher as she accused her of sleeping with her ex. When Dina stormed out of the apartment and slammed the front door behind her, you emerged from your hiding spot and leaned against the doorframe, gazing at her with a mischievous grin on your face. Your arms were crossed over your chest as you watched her, waiting to see her reaction. When she turned to look at you, her face etched with confusion and surprise. You shrugged nonchalantly and said, "My finger slipped," with a lopsided smile.

She snorted and shook her head, but you could see the amusement in her expression, "Such a bitch," she said, though you could tell she was trying to suppress a smile. For some reason, she couldn't help but find it funny, she knew she deserved it.

✩ She gradually made her way back into your life, taking slow but steady steps to regain your trust and affection. And before you knew it, she asked you to be her girlfriend again. You hesitated at first but eventually gave in to the strong feelings you still had for her. The first few months of your second chance together seemed to be going smoothly, or so you thought. Then, one day, out of the blue, she broke up with you, claiming that she needed a break from the relationship.

✩ Your heart was shattered into countless pieces, struggling to comprehend where it had all gone wrong. And to make things worse, it seemed like you were the only one suffering, while she appeared to be completely fine, almost as if she were unbothered by the whole situation. You had poured your heart out, begging her to give your relationship another try, but she seemed to be holding back, almost...distant.

✩ But that didn't stop you; you were determined to win her back. You tried everything in your power to get her to love you again, just like she used to do when she wanted to win you back. You started showing up at her place unannounced, always with little surprises for her: her favorite snacks, flowers, handmade stuff, and love letters. But unfortunately, all your efforts seemed to be in vain. The more you tried, the more she pushed you away. You couldn't tell how she had switched so fast and went from doing anything to get back with you to this. 

✩ When you asked her for an explanation, she said she felt emotionally unavailable. She went on to say that she wasn't sure if she still loved you and that she needed a break. You could see the hurt in her eyes and feel the weight of her words as they slowly sank in. It was a devastating blow that left you feeling utterly destroyed. The pain you felt was almost too much to bear.

✩ She promised to come back to you once she felt better. Months passed, and she didn't return. You were left feeling lost and heartbroken, struggling to cope with the pain of the breakup. To move on, you tried to distract yourself with other things, keeping yourself busy with work, hobbies, and spending time with friends. As time went on, you slowly began to heal and accept that it was over. When she unexpectedly came back, you were already over her.

"im ready to give us another try" "Ellie, it's been a fucking year." "and?"