#she's making me sad........ so sad.........
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flocktothelight · 3 days ago
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Alice always seems so lonely..
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empressportugoose · 23 hours ago
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I lived in Brazil for fifteen years, I've seen everything from some really really sus clinics, to state of the art hospitals.
When I had to get my appendix out, I went to our local hospital. They couldn't tell at first if it was appendicitis. But they gave me pain medication and monitored me throughout the day, until they were able to tell for sure, and then they immediately wheeled me into surgery. I was not sedated, just numbed from the neck down. They put a curtain between me and the surgeon, but I was awake for the procedure. The doctor then showed me the appendix after he took it out (spoiler, it looked like a sad penis, which was absolutely hilarious to doped up 17 yrs old me). I was then sent to a shared room where I spent the next two days recovering. My roommate unfortunately for her, was a mentally ill patient who kept trying to escape the hospital. But she was sweet and clearly just having a very good no bad time, and we had a lovely chat.
Meanwhile, my sister in law gave birth to her first daughter via C-section, due to complications. C-sections are more common in Brazil, and she was sent home after... A day? But they had all sorts of specialists in the room with her and after. And she has since recovered wonderfully, and gotten specific counseling on things like breastfeeding, testing the baby for tongue and lip ties.
You know what both of those things cost us in the end?
Nothing.
So yeah, is it a bit of a mixed bag? Sure. Are there some weird things that may happen? Absolutely. But I've seen American hospitals with just as questionable if practices if not more. Just because they look nicer and fancier doesn't mean shit for quality of care.
And at least in Brazil, the area I was in, people could access healthcare. And I never heard of anyone's lives being destroyed by medical debt.
The current American system is pointless and unsustainable. The money we pay into it isn't even going to the workers in the hospital. It's going almost entirely into insurance company pockets. Healthcare doesn't have to be like this. It's just built that way in the US. There are options, and ways to make it better. We can be better.
Sometimes I see people from countries with public healthcare systems post videos that are like “This is the reality of socialized medicine. I had to wait in the ER with my sick baby for 4 hours.” “I had to wait 8 months to see a specialist. That’s egregious.” or “They didn’t have a bed for my loved one in mental health treatment.” and it’s like. Come to America babygirl. You can experience all of this and have your insurance deny it and pay thousands and thousands of dollars for it. Like I know healthcare systems in countries with public health can be bad but when I see someone imply they’re bad because the healthcare is universal, I want to jump through the screen and put my elbow on their throat. “The NHS is deeply flawed, therefore we should abolish it and go back to private healthcare. That will definitely make healthcare in this country better!” I am going to Kill You.
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xoxxbilliexoxx · 3 days ago
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I Can Help With That ;)
After months of no sex and a now insatiable hunger to get fucked, your best friend Billie offers to help you out.
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🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
you were laying on billie’s couch, legs draped across her as you continued on listening to her crazy ass story of her most recent hookup. You two have a friendship that allows for nothing to be kept secret. Every thought, every memory, every story, and every moment is shared with each other. So, listening to her go on and on about how happy she was to be munching on some random models coochie is just another normal day for you.
The only difference is your mood. It seems as though you’ve been going through a dry spell, with no sex for too many months to count. You just got tired of the random hookups and messy situations it always leads to and stopped putting yourself out there. Within the last week, your craving to be pleased by someone other than yourself has become insatiable. Masterbating just isn’t doing it, you need to be properly fucked by someone again.
As you listened to your best friend paint the scene of her last sexscapade you felt a pit forming in your stomach. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop it. You felt so hungry for pleasure. It’s not her you were horny for necessarily, it’s just the image of fucking a girl again, of being messily wrapped around another body, laid out with sheets tangled between you and the sound of heavy breathing taking up the room.
You were completely zoned out, caught up in your own little erotic daydreaming before Billie snapped you out of it. “Y/n, hello? I asked you a question, did you hear me?” she laughed at your startled face, clearly having drawn you out of a deep thought too suddenly. “what the hell were you thinking about girl” “it’s nothing sorry,” you swallowed, “what was your question again?” you asked as you pulled all your attention back into the conversation. “I wanna know your last juicy hookup, you always pull bad bitches” She nudged your shoulder making you laugh as she said it.
“fuck, dude I am still in that fucking dry spell. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex it’s pathetic” you laughed as the sad confession came out. Billie laughed with you, slightly making fun of your situation before you kept going. “At first it wasn’t bad, I really didn’t care. I mean at first I was having fun making myself cum and not having to deal with other people’s bullshit” “HAAHAH so fucking fair” Billie interrupted you but you continued. “But now though, oh my god. Girl, in the last two weeks I cannot fucking curb this hunger. I am so horny nonstop like, I swear I get myself off and the second I catch my breath I’m horny again. It’s fucking ridiculous” you laughed out. “Like I’m starting to feel insane. I need to go get fucked cuz this horny fucking monster in my brain is not liking my rose toy or my fingers anymore” Billie laughed hard at your words, and you joined in with her.
“Get back on tinder girl, we gotta feed that nasty monster i’ve never seen you like this it’s scary” you pushed her shoulder and clicked your tongue at her dramatic response, which she of course said with a classic mischievous grin you’ve seen too often on her face. She’s always so proud of her stupid jokes.
“I just hate tinder dude. It’s always so awkward and half the time the sex is ass anyways” you paused as she nods in agreement before you kept going. “take me to one of your award shows and introduce me to some of these bad bitches you always end up going home with” you winked and she smiled again, this time a confident slightly devilish smirk showing the pride she has for all those “bad bitches” she does have many good memories with. “I do be pullin huh” you rolled your eyes and flipped her off “don’t make me jealous you idiot”
There was a short pause to the conversation, you could see Billie’s gears turning in her head before she turned to look back at you, eyebrows raised and lips turned upwards again. “I could always just fuck ya” as she said it she shrugged, so matter of fact and nonchalant with her bold statement. “eww billie shut up you weirdo you’re my best friend” “first off, how dare you say ew, bitch. Second off I'm your hot best friend so get that straight” You smiled at her with your eyebrows raised, amusement coating your face, keeping quiet to let her finish her clearly unfinished sentence. “It doesn’t have to mean anything obviously, You’re hot, I'm hot, we’re completely comfortable with each other, we love each other, even if it’s just as friends, and you’re in a messy predicament that I can easily get you out of. I mean, I got all these bad bitches moaning and cumming like crazy i’m just sayin” She grinned and giggled at the end, knowing her fuck boy statement was ridiculous.
You both went silent, laughter filling the void as you think. Billie’s own mind wandered to the thought of making you feel good, and she began to feel her own curious desire building. You couldn’t ignore the horny energy coursing through you, it was impossible to not feel. Before your brain could talk yourself out of it you move. You got yourself up and sit back down straddling her lap with a smile and half hooded eyes looking down at Billie. She gasped for a second, somewhat shocked you were actually going along with this, before she planted her hands down and grabbed a handful of your ass.
There was a moment when your eyes met and you both giggled, amused by what was unfolding, knowing you’re both going to laugh about it afterwards as if it’s just another dumb thing you do as best friends. But as that giggle faded it’s replaced with a hunger, a growing desire and increasing erotic tension. The eye contact stayed and the smiles disappeared and suddenly your lips were wrapped between each other.
It was gentle at first, timid almost, as you both let go of the brief awkwardness of making out with your best friend for the first time. But within seconds it became passionate, heated, sloppy. Her hands continued to grab and pull at your ass over your cheeky sweatshorts, before she built confidence and slipped her hands under, now feeling your hot skin against her fingertips.
When her hands pushed you tighter against her your hips grinded and the sudden sensation against your clit made you moan quietly into the kiss. Billie pulled away and looked at you, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth in her sexy smirk as she heard your moan, immediately needing to hear more of them. She grabbed your bottom and stood you both up before turning and laying you down. Now hovering over you, Billie’s hungry eyes found yours and you could see an expression you’d never seen on her before, a dominant aroused one that maked your heart stop and goosebumps erupt all across your skin.
The feeling of her plump wet lips on your neck, placing sloppy kisses on every sliver of your skin, sucking and biting occasionally, made you moan louder. You were slowly melting into her touch, into the way she was working you up more and more. The throbbing at your core became hard to ignore and you knew you were making such a mess of your underwear as she made you more and more wet.
Billie’s eager lips found your sweet spot, sucking on your skin just below your ear, and your sweet loud moan filled her living room. “Mmmm you sound so good like that baby, so sexy hearing you moan” Your hand landed on the back of her neck, pulling her closer to your skin, needing more of her, searching for anything. She sped up her pace, kissing all over your neck and collarbones before pulling you up to take off your shirt and bralette. As you landed back on the sofa your boobs moved up and down with the motion. Billie watched with wide eyes and a big smile, you knew she’s always wanted to see them, you have found her staring at them far too often.
She wasted no time, immediately pulling your nipple into her mouth and sucking before letting it go with a pop and moving onto your other boob. Her passionate and intense attack on your chest was a clear indication of her own arousal growing. This might have just been two friends helping each other out, but that doesn’t mean you both aren’t incredibly attracted to each other and currently incredibly horny for one another. The melodies of heavy breathing and sloppy kisses filled the room and made it all quite apparent.
Billie’s lips trailed down your stomach slowly. She stopped often to bite and suck on the skin beneath her, each time pulling sweet squeaks and moans from your lips. She was enamored, fully taken over by a need to satisfy you, to give you everything you’d been missing for too long. She was taking her time, winding you up and building your desire until it was so intense you might explode. She wanted you so sensitive by the time she gave you what you wanted, that it would take only seconds to bring you to the edge.
Just before she got to the waistline of your shorts she moved back up to you, causing you to let out a deep sigh. You weren’t aware of all the air you were holding in until she stopped her sloppy, intoxicating descent down your body. As her lips found your face again her hands landed on your waist. Squeezing you tightly, Billie moaned in your ear, low and sultry, and moving straight to your wet core. The sound maked your head feel dizzy, like your body was experiencing too much need and arousal and you might pass out if you didn’t get fucked soon. Her lips pulled away from yours after a deep kiss and she whispered into your ear, “Let’s move to my room, I wanna have you laid out across my bed for me”
With that she tapped the side of your butt twice and stood up. You began to follow after her, feeling eager but slightly exposed, the cold air on your naked chest coating you in goosebumps. Billie turned to look at you and was immediately mesmerized by your freed boobs swaying and jumping as you walked. When you got to her room you jumped on the bed, giggling slightly as you watched her pull off her own top and jump on with you. Her bralette was just slightly too small, leaving her huge boobs spilling out of each side and top. Billie crawled over to you, hovering above and smirking down at you. As she looked at your body laid out under her, her tongue pushed against the inside of her cheek.
“You are too much y/n. So fucking sexy its ridiculous” You blushed at her compliment and reached above you, grabbing her face with both of your hands and pulling her down to join with you again. Her lips found yours quickly, and your tongues met not long after. You both let out moans that vibrated into the kiss. Moving your hands to Billie’s back, you searched eagerly for the clasp of her bralette. As you pulled it apart and the back dropped down, Billie moved one arm at a time and finally fully freed her boobs. You gasped at the sight of her pink hard nipples and big ivory boobs lightly grazing against your own, admittedly also having been caught staring at them too many times in your friendship.
Your head lifted up as your hand grabbed her boob, guiding it between your lips. A gasp followed by a deep moan filled the room as you eagerly sucked and bit on her nipples. The sudden pleasure made Billie’s body give out slightly, landing her knee between your legs to catch herself. You moved yourself down a bit more to continue your affection on her boobs and as you did your clit grazed her knee, immediately making you gasp. Billie let out a mischievous giggle before pushing your hips down and pulling her knee up, intensifying the pressure and the pleasure right away.
She pulled her boobs away from you and you groaned, missing them in your mouth immediately. She filled the void with her lips on your neck and her hands pulled at your hips, forcing you to begin grinding against her knee. Your back arched up and as you grinded you felt the crotch of your baggy shorts slip to the side. Now, just your soaked panties laid between you and Billie’s thigh. As you continued your motion Billie felt your wetness slipping against her, causing her own panties to get soaked. The sudden evidence of your wet arousal made something snap in Billies mind, “I need to taste you, fuck you’re so wet for me” She moved down quickly, getting herself comfortable between your legs before slipping off your shorts and thong at the same time.
“Godddddd so fucking pretty” Billie moaned after loudly swallowing. Your dripping pussy clenched in front of her as reality hit that you are about to get eaten out, finally after too many long months. The sensation of Billie’s smooth wet tongue slowly slipping between your folds sent a shockwave through your body. The comforter rustled as your hands dug around, trying to grab hold, trying to ground yourself. Her tongue flattened out wide and continued licking from your leaking entrance all the way up to your clit, where she stopped briefly and added pressure. She’s too good, it was making you melt and you felt like you were floating, no longer on earth. Your head felt cloudier and cloudier as her pleasure became the only thing you could feel. Her tongue continued sloppily consuming you, slurping you up at each lick before moving up to your clit. She knew exactly what she was doing, her actions pulling you closer and closer to the edge already.
As your moans got louder and louder and the pleasure consumed you, Billie began moving her hands from around your thighs. One traveled up and landed on your boob, pinching and pulling at your nipple, turning your moans to sweet yelps and cries. You could feel her smile against your cunt as her other hand moved down to your center.
Your messy wetness allowed two of her fingers to slip inside you with ease, immediately curling them upwards and pumping in and out slowly and deliberately. She made her tongue flat and hard and pushed it up against your clit. Moving her head side to side, she could feel your swollen bud throbbing under her. The sensation of her fingers filling you perfectly and her tongue playing with your sensitive clit had you gasping. It wasn’t just that you haven’t felt this in awhile that was making things build so quickly. Billie was incredibly skilled, you were learning that quite quickly. You’ve never been eaten out so well. You’ve never been so close to cumming so quickly. It usually takes you a while and you have to focus to feel the pleasure. Not right now, not with Billie. All you could think about was pleasure, it was surrounding you, inside of you, swirling and filling the room. It was everywhere.
“Billie, right there, fuck” your words came out as pants, completely drunk off the way she was fucking you. “Oh god Billie, yessss” She hummed into you, showing how much she loved making you moan. Your walls began pulsing and clenching around her fingers and your thighs squeezed her head tighter as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge. “Mmmm you close mama, you gunna cum for me?” her sultry tone was laced with pride as she continued devouring you and watching you squirm in front of her. “Yes yes yes Billie fuck I’m gunna cum”
Just as the words left your lips Billie pulled away, a slight seductive giggle hit your ears. You gasped, completely shocked at her actions, and as you lifted your head to confront her you were met with a shit eating grin spread across her face. “awe, did I ruin your orgasm? im sorry” she sarcastically mocked you, the obnoxious smile never leaving her face. “I can’t even keep myself away for long enough to properly tease you, you taste so good, so fucking sweet baby”
her lips latched onto your clit, the warmth of her mouth against your now cold cunt sent shivers through you. You didn’t expect Billie to be treating you like this, you thought she’d give you the basic stuff and make you cum quickly to satiate the hunger in you, but now, now she’s making it grow even stronger.
It only took a few minutes of sloppy sucking and licking for your orgasm to rise again. Her fingers were moving faster and her lips were wrapped tight around ur clit, sucking and licking and sucking and licking. With your hands tangled in her hair and your legs spread as far as they could go, you pushed Billie as tight against your pussy as possible, trying hard to hold in the loud moans that we’re fighting to come out. “I’m gunna cum, I- I’m gunna cum, right there Billie” she listened close to your breathing, trying to take in all the noises you were making that were turning her on too much. As she heard your gasps becoming more and more erratic and chaotic she knew you were close again.
Within seconds her mouth was gone, placing light kisses on your inner thighs and laughing again at your groans. Her fingers were still inside of you but they were still, no longer moving in and out. She could feel the way your walls pulsed around her as she edged you out of your almost orgasm.
“Fuck, Billie, please let me cum, you’re killing me” you whined out, getting too heated and too needy now. “oh but edging you and hearing you beg is so much more fun” she paused to place another kiss on your thigh, this time so close to your pussy it made you gasp. she smiled against your skin before speaking again, “And it’ll feel sooooo much better when I finally let you cum, be patient for a little longer babygirl, it’ll be worth it.” Your stomach flipped at the nickname and your head began to feel fuzzy from the rollercoaster of pleasure she’s been making you feel.
Billie did it all over again, building you up higher and higher with her talented tongue and fingers. The room was filled with the sound of your wetness against her mouth, and your gasps and moans that you tried hard to hold it but couldn’t. You felt like you were becoming addicted to the way she was fucking you. It was better than anything you’re used to. You were beginning to realize all those stories of her making her partners cum over and over again, and the way she said she’d make them scream, none of it was exaggerated, she was just that good. You almost didn’t want to cum, didn’t want it to end. You knew you couldn’t have this again.
As the cues were showing Billie how close you were yet again, she stopped, yet again. This time, she pulled her fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the emptiness and at the feeling of your orgasm disappearing again. Your eyes opened to the sight of Billie right about you. “taste yourself babygirl, taste how delicious you are” Her fingers slid into your mouth and after a moment of swirling your tongue around her she pulled them away, replacing them with her lips. You kissed her passionately, showing your eager desire, needing her to know how fucking hungry you were after being edged too many times to count.
Your growing impatience filled your body, you felt overwhelmed by it and allowed it to fully take control. Your hand gripped her hair and you pulled her back down to where you needed her most, hard and only by her strands of black silk. She sucked in a breath and moaned at your needy and slightly dominant action before landing her lips back on your dripping pussy. She was moving faster than before, like she was a ravenous animal that’d been starved for days. When her fingers, now 3 deep, slipped back into your desperate hole, she moaned out with you, as if she was enjoying this as much as you were. Each of her movements were calculated and deliberate. She was using all her skills, all her tricks on you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, you were being suffocated by the almost unknown pleasure she was bringing you. Her tongue parted with you for just long enough to speak, “Did so good for me love, such a good girl letting me tease you like that. Go on and cum for me, cum all over my fingers and face. Need you to make a mess of me baby” Those words mixed with the return of her tongue sent you over the edge.
You were spiraling, dizzy and overwhelmed as your body erupted into sparks of pleasure. The sensations were almost too much as you screamed out her name over and over. Billie kept going, kept fucking into you, kept licking your clit, kept your orgasm flowing through your body. You knew more was coming, you could feel it. The one thing Billie didn’t know about you was that you could squirt. She was about to learn. It took one last flick of her fingers for the gates to open. You screamed, letting it all out at once as you squirted months of built up tension onto her fingers, her face, her boobs. It was everywhere and you felt like you were no longer on Earth, gasping for air as you began your descent back down.
Your eyes finally opened to see Billie’s bold eyes and big smile, she was still between your legs, still gazing at your fucked out pussy in front of her. “holy shit y/n, that was so fucking hot. I had no idea you could squirt” She was so turned on, she couldn’t stop thinking about how hot you were, how hot it was to watch you cum all over her. Her legs squeezed together unconsciously, but you picked up on it. You knew Billie didn’t start this with the intention of you fucking her but now you needed it.
As she came bakc up towards your face she kissed you on the forehead. You were still trying to catch your breath and stop your legs from continuing to shake with the aftershocks. You looked at her with a satisfied smile and a shaky laugh that came out with each of your breaths. Her face matched yours showing off her complete enjoyment from what just played out. After wiping your cum off of her face she finally broke the silence, “so, did we do it? Are you finally satisfied?” You began to nod, the laughter still coming out each time you breathed.
You flipped yourself on top of her catching her completely off guard before speaking, “I will be once I make you cum” as soon as the words slid off your tongue your lips were backing on hers, moaning at the taste of your own cum coating her mouth.
You both knew this could only be for one night, so you might as well make it a long night.
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yellowbrokenblue · 3 days ago
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Could you write something about Harry, where his girlfriend is accompanying them on tour or maybe she is a 6th member of the oned (you choose how to do it) and they keep finding a way to escape without the people seeing to sleep with each other or he tries to take her to his bunk bed on the tour bus or to his hotel room... smutttt please
“My boyfriend is literally on stage.”
kofi!
cw: public sex, slight daddy kink
There was something about being surrounded by tens of thousands of teenage girls screaming your boyfriend’s name that made you feel so good that after all of this, it was your arms he was running into. Not theirs.
Liam, Zayn, Niall, Louis and Harry were the most desired men on the planet right now, but little did the fans know that you and Harry were exclusive for a while now and there was nothing they could do about it.
The guys had been nice to you for the most part. You’d joined their North American tour to get as much time with Harry as you could. But they were always busy, between rehearsals and recording sessions you didn’t have any time together. Most of the tour was you just watching the shows and exploring the city on your own, it wasn’t exactly what you had expected.
You took a quick snap of Harry performing a solo verse on stage during the last song, before slipping away to make it backstage before the crowd dispersed and so that you could greet Harry as soon as he came off stage.
He was so insanely attractive on stage, the way his jeans clung to the same legs that you’d straddle him on, and that hair that you’d tangle your fingers in…
You stood in the wings of the stage, watching as Harry skipped off towards you, a towel in his hand that he used to wipe the sweat off of his head.
He ran into your arms, grinning, lifting you up and spinning you around.
You hand him a hair tie, and he swiftly ties his hair into a tight bun, keeping the hair away from his face. He knew you liked it when his hair was tied up, it meant you could see all his features properly.
“Good show once again, rockstar.”
“All for you, baby.” Harry said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I put on that show and you’re the only thing on my mind.”
You grin at him, your hands on his waist pulling him closer to you.
He quickly bucked his hips against your stomach, showing off the hardness forming under his pants, you look up at him, eyes wide and mouth watering.
“I’ve been waiting all day to get my hands on you, gorgeous.” Harry breathes, his hot breath hitting against your neck.
“Then you can have me. Where’s the hotel?” You ask.
“No hotel tonight, sweetheart. We’re overnight on the bus tonight, Dallas to Kansas City.”
“The bus?” You question, disheartened that you wouldn’t be getting the night in a hotel together like you expected.
“Don’t look so sad, baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, quiet enough that no one else in the room will hear him, “I’ve been waiting all day for that sweet cunt of yours, hotel or no hotel, I’m still gonna have it.”
Your heart skips a beat, “Harry, you share a bus with Niall and Zayn. They’ll hear us.”
Harry smirks. “Then you’re just gonna have to be a good quiet girl for me then, aren’t ya.”
You’d never had sex in the bus before, nothing had went further than a make out.
Harry joked around about how notoriously loud you were in bed, he joked around about how all the other guests at night would be kept up at night when he fucked you.
You had no idea how he expected you to stay quiet on a bunk in a tour bus.
“Get to my bunk,” Harry says, “I gotta pick my stuff up from my dressing room and I’ll meet you there.”
You done exactly what Harry said, you made your way to his tour bus and got straight into his bunk, pulling the curtain closed. It was as small as you would imagine, considering it was a bed in a bus.
You heard the door open soon after, with the guys making their way onto the bus and walking straight up to the small living and dining area at the front where the TV was. Harry however, kicked off his shoes and jumped straight in the bunk with you.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He grinned, pulling the curtain closed once again, and placing a fierce kiss on your lips.
“Hey.” You replied.
“I’m not wasting any time with you.” He said, “Sit here in between my legs, angel.”
He lifted you into position between his legs, brushing his face against your neck, his lips then attaching to your skin.
“Remember and be quiet.” He whispered into your ear, before returning to the soft skin of your neck.
You felt his hands on your thighs, moving closer and closer up your skirt, until his fingers brushed over the fabric of your panties.
You’d been soaking wet all night for him, watching him up on stage in those damn jeans, knowing damn well what was underneath and in store for you later.
It was soon after that Harry tore the panties from you, ripping them in half for his fingers to gain access to your pussy, your toes clenching as his fingers moved in rapid circles, the tension building between your legs.
He had to put one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.
“Gagging you already and I don’t have a finger inside you yet, nevermind my dick.” He lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “How you gonna last, huh?”
You moan into his hand as he brings you to an orgasm. You feel your body quiver as he continues to pump his fingers into you, soaking them in your sticky cum.
“That’s it baby.”
This was one of the longest orgasms you’d ever had from just his fingers- something about the anticipation and naughtiness of being so dirty just feet away from his bandmates, paired with his hand firmly pressed over your mouth was too much for your body to deal with.
You were still processing your high when Harry moved so he was balancing on top of you, moving your body so your head was rested on the pillow. You watched as he slid his pants down his legs and shoved them at the end of his bed, and began to palm his cock over his boxers.
He was so big- it shocked you every time how he actually fit inside of you.
“Sorry for rushin’ baby, but I need to be inside of you,” He said quietly, “Just stay nice and quiet for me, okay?”
You nod, and he discards the underwear, and you hike your skirt as far up your hips as you can.
Balancing above you, he sunk his cock slowly inside of you.
“Harry, oh!-”
He slammed his hand over your mouth, keeping you quiet.
“Quiet, princess. We have company, remember.”
He stayed very still for a short moment, his cock still buried inside of you. He enjoyed watching you squirm, watching your eyes beg for him to move. Your sweet, sweet eyes. Those eyes he got to stare at while he performed, the eyes which were the last thing that he saw before he kissed you, and those eyes he got to see when he fucked you.
When he started to move his dick, thrusting his hips, your eyes squeezed shut.
“Darlin’” He whispered, “You open your eyes when I fuck you. Understand?”
You nod, opening your eyes again.
Harry was moving faster, his thrusts deep and hard. You had no idea it was possible to cum in five minutes purely from a man’s dick until you met Harry. He knew exactly what to do with your body in bed.
Your walls began to clench around him, your body shaking with every moment. By now you’d be screaming his name, but his hand was still firmly over your mouth. Any possible sound you could make was escaping through your nose as Harry’s dick pounded into you.
Harry’s bunk was small. It was crazy how little space this man needed to make you feel like this. This good.
“Cum on daddy’s cock.” Harry whispered. The tour bus TV was loud enough that hopefully they wouldn’t be able to hear the two of you by now, “Make a mess all over for me, baby.”
Harry reached for your clit, rubbing fast circles around your swollen bud until you reached your orgasm.
“Oh, god. Oh baby.” Harry groaned, indicating he was coming.
You moaned into his hand louder. The feeling of his cum filling you up.
“My sweet girl.” Harry moaned.
He felt so good.
So fucking good.
The thought of the others listening just made it all so more exciting.
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creekfiend · 3 days ago
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nurse taking my vitals said she was waiting for my pulse to come down to give it to the tech taking notes and I was like "oh it's just high. it's a problem I have" and they, both clearly lacking a script for this interaction, both went "awww" in th exact tone of voice one might after being told about a sad rescue puppy that was covered in fleas
I love when people lack a script for things it makes me feel so regular. we all behave weirdly when we don't have a script
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stick-wizard · 2 days ago
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this series was so important to me as a kid and ironically I looked up to Harry in a lot of ways as the brave boy I wanted to be... when I was a little girl. what this woman has done is incredibly hurtful, and I literally can't even look at Harry Potter merch or posts or anything without getting a twinge of deep sadness. even if for nothing else I don't give her money anymore because of that. but she also does actively use her voice, money, and influence to make life harder for trans people and that is unforgivable.
I haven't purchased a HP item in close to a decade - I use the books I already had as doorstops or to prop a laptop up for meetings nowadays.
There is NO "death of the author" with JK Rowling - she controls and continues to profit from her IP, and uses that money to fund hate groups.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 days ago
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i love your work sm!! could i request something with nerd!rafe? like reader never normally wears her glasses, so she decides to put them on while she reads and gets insecure and rafe comforts her?
beautiful with them.
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NERD!RAFE MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: insecurities w/ glasses, angst to comfort
A/N: thank you sm! LOVE THIS. agh so sweet.
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You flipped through the pages with anticipation, your eyes darting over the sentences. The world around you faded into the background, the rustle of the pages the only sound you heard. It wasn’t until you caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye that you realized Rafe had entered the room, leaning against the doorway.
As your gaze caught him entering the room, your eyes widened in surprise. You fumbled to remove the glasses that sat on your face, the frames slipping through your fingers as you set them aside. The suddenness of your actions caught him off guard, a look of confusion flickering across his face, but he dismissed it as he stepped toward you. A warm smile graced his lips as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.
“Hi, baby.” He murmured against your lips.
“Hi.” You breathed out. “You’re home early.” You noted, him moving away, putting the briefcase on the bed as he shoved off his suit jacket.
“Meeting finished early, and I was free the rest of the day.” He replied, you nodding, glancing down at your book and your glasses. “What have you been doin’ all day?” He asked you.
“Reading, mostly.” You replied, him letting out a chuckle.
“I thought so.”
Even though he’s seen you read so many times, you always wore your contacts. He’s never really seen you with your glasses. And if he has, it’s been only a few times.
You glanced back down at the glasses, and then back at him. He was taking off his clothes, changing into sweatpants and a baggy shirt.
He sat on the bed, phone in hand. He got comfortable, settling underneath the covers as he began his scrolling.
You turned back in your seat, putting your glasses back on and making sure you were facing away from him as you began to read again.
About thirty minutes passed when he stood up, making his way to the door. You moved your hand, resting your head on your palms as an attempt to hide the frames on your face.
He came back in with two cups of water in his hand, coming back over to your desk with them. He leaned against the desk, offering one of the cups to you.
You took off your glasses, looking back at him for a moment. You gave him a small smile, and he gave you one back.
“You know,” he rasped out. “I like you with your glasses on.”
Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, smile faltering.
He picked them up in his hands, going to put them over your face when you gently grabbed his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it.
You plucked them from his hands, him quirking an eyebrow.
“Thank you.” You replied quietly, setting them back onto the desk.
“Why don’t you wear them?” He asked you, and you knew he was gonna keep pressing until he found out, because that’s just how he is.
You hesitated before answering, “I just… I don’t like how they look on me.” You admitted softly, avoiding his gaze. “It’s why I wear the contacts.”
There was a flicker of sadness on his face, watching you with a visible frown. He knows how you felt, because he’s thought the same thing about his own when he was younger.
“Well, I think they look good on you. You wear them better than me.” He spoke honestly, you letting out a chuckle, thinking he was joking.
“Stop.” You told him, but he didn’t, instead, he reached for your face.
He gently grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him. With his other hand, he grabbed your glasses.
He let go of your jaw, and put both hands on the glasses, before moving your hair, putting the lens over your eyes, and tucking the tips of the glasses behind your ears.
“I’m serious. Maybe you can’t see it, but you really do look beautiful with them on. You were beautiful without them, and you’re beautiful with them.” He told you, holding your face in his hands.
“You really think so?” You asked him quietly, to which he nodded, removing his hands from your face.
“I think, that you should wear them more, if anything.”
He watched the corners of your lips quirk up, small smile making its way onto your face. He leaned down again, and cupped your face once more, pressing his lips softly against yours, both of your glasses clashing as he did so, causing him to look at you, both of you beginning to laugh together.
You settled for putting your foreheads together, soft giggles still escaping your mouth as he smiled at you.
“Thank you.” You told him quietly.
“Course.” He responded in the same quiet volume, “If I didn’t say something, what kind of fiancée would I be, hm?” He hummed out.
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Taglist:
@10ava01 @mileyraes @moonssyrup @koibleufish @anamiad00msday @wearemadeofstardust0 @wintertxt @teenwolfbitches28
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felassanis · 2 days ago
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"Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold hearted son of a bitch and move on,'
OK so THIS LINE FROM LAVELLAN KILLS ME ACTUALLY. Because ugh...hold on. There's so much to unpack.
It's the way she's begging him to belittle the entire relationship. It's the way she asks him to tell her he never cared, and when he says, "I can't do that," she starts pushing him. It's so reactive because of COURSE it is. She's just been told a fucking revelation about her tattoos, THE tattoos that mark her entire identity. And either she's become utterly vulnerable by removing them, or she suddenly feels like she's crossed some uncertain boundary with him by keeping them. A boundary he's not communicated at all, and all of sudden, he's pulling away from her like her touch scorched him. It's beyond frustrating.
"So I can move on," because she's not going to be able to move on.
"So I can call you a cold hearted son of bitch," She NEEDS him to be the bad guy so there's some semblance of control on her end. Some definitive reason why they couldn't work. But he doesn't give her it.
She can't make him the bad guy because she loves him, and she knows he loves her but he won't LET HIMSELF be with her. So now she's going to left wanting him yet being unable to and it ANGERS HER. And she knows she won't be able to move on from him and as we know, she doesn't for 8 years.
Because how dare he let her fall in love with him only for him to do this? And solas knows she's justified in her anger. Because he initially wanted to avoid this yet because of his foolish, foolish heart and lack of restraint he doomed them both. He doesn't avoid her touches like he does in the sad dialogue option. He takes the blows. Let's her push him away because he NEEDS HER to push him away. God forbid she tries to touch him gently with hands that might sway him back to her.
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formula-ghost · 13 hours ago
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Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)
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Chapter 1
SERIES SUMMARY: You’ve been best friends with Oscar Piastri since you were seven, far before the dream of Formula 1 even seemed possible. You’ve been with him from the very beginning—due, in no small part, to the fact that you’ve been in love with him since you were a teenager. But when a breakup and championship battle rattles the very foundations of your friendship, you begin to question if you ever really knew him. (Best friends to lovers, based on the song Wildflower by Billie Eilish)
WORD COUNT: 11.1k
WARNINGS: Oscar is not a very good boyfriend to Lily and Lily is not a very good girlfriend to Oscar. Potentially changed some dates (I think Oscar and Lily started dating when they were 17 or 18, but I’m making them 18 for the sake of the flashback scenes). Reader is “the girl he told me not to worry about” through no fault of her own. This story has a lot of complex character dynamics and everyone is flawed! References to sex but no actual smut.
A/N: Ah new series! I hope this is good—I’m trying some new stuff with the flashbacks and story layers, so I hope it doesn’t read too confusingly! Also, I’m trying to be more intentional with showing instead of telling with my dialogue and such, so hopefully that is an improvement. I always welcome constructive criticism, but either way, I hope you all enjoy this.
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“Lily left me.”
He only needed those three words to convey the gravity of the situation. On the other end of the line, you were silent. He was too. What was there to say?
No, it couldn’t be real. Oscar and Lily were inseparable. The dream couple of Formula 1. Your best friend had been in love with her since the pair were 18, attending boarding school in the UK together while Oscar pursued his dreams of making it to F1. 
They were each other’s everything. At least, that’s what the world thought.
But you had seen this coming for a while now. It was just a shock for it to actually happen. 
Finally, after an eternity, you spoke, still too shocked to formulate a coherent thought. “What do you mean?” you asked.
“I mean she fucking left me. What else do you want me to say?” You could hear the quivering in his voice, giving away the sadness behind his abrasive response. You weren’t offended one bit. 
“Shit, Osc, I’m so sorry. I… don’t know what to say. Do you want me to come over? Or you can come to mine?” 
“I’m outside yours right now. In the car park.” 
“I’ll let you in,” you said. The mental image you conjured of Oscar outside your apartment crying in his fancy McLaren would have been comical, if not given the circumstances.
He let himself in only a few moments later, hoodie covering his tall and muscled frame. He was soaked from the rain outside—he must have come directly from the confrontation. 
“Oh, Oscar,” you said, pulling him into a hug, cringing at the contact with his soggy hoodie, but knowing that there were far more important things to be worried about. 
You rubbed your hands up and down his shoulder blades that now heaved with sobs. His entire body shook with the fervor of his tears, and you just held him, gently shushing him and promising that everything will be okay. 
“I don’t know how she could do this to me,” he said, gasping out the words between haggard breaths. “The championship—I can’t do it without her.”
“I know,” you assured him. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“No it’s not, YN, it’s not gonna be okay. I love her. And she just threw away so many years.”
“I know.” You just kept assuring him, tightening your grip on him as his sobs became more intense. “Just breathe.”
“Why would she do this to me?” he asked. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”
You knew. And deep down, Oscar did too. That was a conversation for another day. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming. 
You didn’t have it in you to lie to him. You had always been the type to pride yourself on being honest, even when the truth hurt, but you couldn’t bear to do it now. You changed the subject.
“Oscar, you’re soaking wet. I’ll find you something else and warm that up in the dryer, yeah? Just sit down, take a deep breath, and let me get this figured out.”
He sat down on your couch and took off his hoodie and t-shirt underneath, revealing his toned body. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before—you’d been friends with him since you were seven, growing up together. He almost felt like a brother to you, sometimes.
Maybe it wouldn’t be weird at all, except for the fact that you’d been in love with him for over a decade now. 
But right now that didn’t matter. He had plenty of old hoodies over in your apartment, which you carefully folded every time he forgot them. Placing his wet clothes in the dryer and setting the temp on high, you reached to the shelf above you and grabbed a random one. You unfolded it—an Alpine hoodie from back in the day, before his time at McLaren. You smiled at the memories that flashed in your mind, before quickly returning to Oscar with the garment. 
He had moved from your couch to your bedroom, holding a pillow on his lap, hunched over where the top of it met his chin. He was staring off into space, not breaking his gaze at the plain white wall.
You sat next to him, handing him the hoodie, and he mumbled a small thanks as he grabbed it. He didn’t put it on, instead just holding it with the pillow, as if filling his arms with the plush material would fill the hole now left in his heart.
“Oscar, I… don’t have anything profound to say. I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t respond at first, instead just silently letting the tears well up in his eyes. 
“I guess I should have seen this coming,” he said quietly. 
You paused, unsure whether or not you should agree with him. But you were nothing if not honest.
“Yeah,” you said, “it’s been a rough few months.”
“I guess we just both fell out of love.”
“I mean… how did the conversation go?”
It would be stupidly easy for Oscar to lie and say he didn’t remember Lily’s every word. But he knew better, and so did you. As he explained, the memory replayed in his head.
“I can’t do this anymore, Oscar,” Lily said, a simple yet devastating statement.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” His confusion was genuine, much to the chagrin of his angry girlfriend.
“The fact that you even have to ask that proves my point.”
“Lily, talk to me. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Oscar stood up, now understanding the full gravity of the situation he found himself in. 
“I’m trying to say that I’m not happy anymore, and neither are you. I wanted to at least give it until the end of the season, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when we both know bloody well that it’s not! Don’t you want something better than this, Oscar?” Lily pleaded. 
“I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Don’t lie to me. You say that but you put everything else before me. I’m not a priority to you. I haven’t been in a long time.”
“I’ll quit F1. We can go back to the UK and live a normal life.”
“No. We both know that you wouldn’t do that.” Her tone was incredulous, twinged with a slight anger at the mere suggestion. 
“Yes, I would. I’d do anything. Don’t do this, Lily. Not now, not when I need you the most.”
Lily grabbed his hand, leading him to sit down on the couch next to her. “Oscar,” she began, “we had a good run. You made me so, so happy for so long.” She reached up to gently cup his cheeks and wipe away where tears were now forming at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you achieve things that neither of us ever thought were possible. But…I can’t stay any longer. Not when there’s no place for me in your heart anymore.”
You sighed. You knew every word that Lily had said was right. But you also knew you couldn’t get that through to Oscar, at least not until the shock wore off.
The words remained unspoken. You had been there for all of it. Lily was his first love, his only girlfriend, and everyone assumed that he’d marry her one day; you included. 
“I just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on acting like my life didn’t just fall apart. How did you do it?”
This was Oscar's first breakup, but you had been through too many, it seemed, since he was asking you for advice on how to handle them.
The truth? It was very easy to get over a breakup when every partner you’ve ever had was a feeble attempt at denial. When they all inevitably failed, you just went back to bask in Oscar’s platonic love. It was enough. 
“I won’t lie to you, the first one is always hell. You feel like you’re going crazy for a while. You lose hope that you’ll ever feel happier, because everything reminds you of them. And then one day it just…doesn’t. The only thing that heals it is time and finding love around you, you know, friends and family.”
“No offense, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
‘Well, I’m not going to lie to you and say it’ll be easy, because it won't. But it will be okay—not today, but someday. You’ve got something to focus on with the championship. And I’ll be here.” You gave him an empathetic smile. 
Maybe you weren’t the most comforting friend to most. But you and Oscar had a bond that was very different to most friendships. You understood each other’s idiosyncrasies in ways no one else could. So when shit hit the fan, it was always each other that you went to.
You continued, “You can stay here as long as you like.”
“Thank you.”
There was only one problem: your apartment only had one bed. And to the dismay of fanfiction writers across the world, you all would not be sharing it. 
You distracted Oscar by cooking a meal and watching a comfort movie—Cars, a classic. You could tell he was exhausted by the way his head on your shoulder sloped just a little too heavily downwards as the credits rolled. 
“Okay, let’s get you to bed,” you said, gently pushing him awake. He sleepily stumbled back into your bedroom and collapsed on the bed, almost instantly falling back asleep.
You took the couch, but despite the money you spent splurging on the extra cushioned sofa, no sleep came to you. 
It wasn’t any physical discomfort that fueled your insomnia, but rather, the events of the previous evening. Lily had actually left Oscar. She had finally pulled the plug.
Yes, in some ways, it was expected. But at the same time, you couldn’t imagine a version of your best friend that wasn’t madly in love with his girlfriend. 
From the outside, though, you couldn’t blame Lily one bit. You wondered what had been the last straw. 
You could think of three possible moments. First: The Apartment. 
“I’m moving to Monaco,” Oscar began, and you felt your heart drop in your stomach. Of course, one day he’d make it to Monaco. That was the dream of every Formula 1 driver, right? The beauty of the French Riviera and tax evasion. And you’d be left at your aging flat in the UK, waiting for those precious few days a year where he was free to grace you with his presence. 
“That’s amazing!” you said, only half believing it to be true. 
“In a few weeks I’m gonna go look at condos. Come with me? Lily can’t get off work.”
“Of course,” you replied. You’d already been to Monaco before for Oscar’s races, but you wouldn’t turn down any reason to get out of the constant dreary rain of the UK. 
You felt like a celebrity as you coasted through the Monte Carlo streets in the passenger side of Oscar’s McLaren, on your way to tour fabulous properties for your best friend (the actual celebrity). You breathed in the saltwater breeze, fresh and tinged with the air of wealth and splendor.
But it hurt your heart to know that you were helping your best friend leave. You imagined him getting up and doing his morning runs along the harbor, the sun blazing down the strained muscles on his back. Then you laughed to yourself at the thought of Oscar, the pastiest Aussie you knew, getting sunburnt. 
At the first property you met the realtor, who (after mistaking you for Lily; not the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last) took the pair of you to different condos throughout the day. 
Oscar decided on the final one you saw; two bedrooms, plenty of natural light, and a great view. Elegant, refined and practical—just like Oscar himself. 
The realtor handed him the paperwork and left as you stood on the balcony, looking at the beauty of the city before you. You were quiet, unusually so, and Oscar noticed. 
He sat the paperwork on the kitchen counter and walked onto the balcony next to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” you said, your voice lowered. “You’re gonna make such beautiful memories here.”
“Are you getting sentimental on me now?”
You smiled and laughed. “A little,” you admitted, “I can’t help it. I’ll miss you all.” 
“You could always come with us. You seem to like it here,” he teased, tilting his head toward the edge of the balcony.
“You’d have to give me a raise if I was gonna afford Monaco rent prices.” You’d been running Oscar’s merch store and social media for the past few years, making a great wage, but nowhere near the immense wealth you’d need to call a place like this home. You joked with him, knowing Oscar actually had nothing to do with how much you got paid. 
“I would if I could. But, I mean, if you had a place to stay it wouldn’t really be that bad.”
“Are you suggesting I move into your guest room?”
Now he laughed. “No, but I’m just saying, if you had an apartment, you could make it work.”
You raised an eyebrow, confused, but trying to go along with the joke. “Well, sure, but apartments don’t just appear out of thin air.”
“You never know.” Oscar scratched the back of his neck and looked away, a sign of the awkwardness that now blanketed your moment on the balcony. 
“What are you getting at?”
“Well, theoretically, if someone were to have a spare apartment that they weren’t using, you could live there and Monaco would be a reasonable place to live, no?”
You didn’t answer his question, instead just giving him another confused glance until he gave up whatever he was trying to say. He still couldn’t meet your gaze. 
“Look—I don’t want to live so far away from my friend. Is that such a bad thing?”
“Oscar, you…”
“I got you an apartment.”
“You… bought me an apartment. In Monaco.” It came out more like a statement than a question, evidence of your shock. He reached into his pocket and dug out a key, holding it out to you.
You just looked at him with an incredulous expression. “Oscar, I can’t accept that.”
“Why not?”
“How much was it?” 
“I have more than enough money.”
“Answer the question.”
He pursed his lips and shrugged. “About 4 million?” 
Your eyes widened in shock. “Before you say anything,” he began, “I made over 30 million last year. I have more money than I’d ever know what to do with, so why not just spend it all on the people I love?” 
“Oscar… I can’t, that’s too much.”
“Will you at least go look at it with me? Actually, I’m driving, so you don’t have a choice,” he joked, walking back into the apartment. “Let’s go.”
You sighed, smiling to yourself. There was no way you could let Oscar buy you a 4 million dollar apartment, but also, how could you not? The wind whipped through your hair as you rolled down the window of his McLaren, drinking in the beauty of the city around you. 
The apartment was smaller than the one he had picked for himself and Lily, but you didn’t mind one bit. It was perfectly cosy, and God, the view was spectacular. You could see the whole city from his apartment, but here, you could see the water. You stepped on the balcony and took a deep breath, taking in the sound of the ocean waves beneath you. 
Oscar followed you. “It’s a bit small, but I figured you’d like the view.”
“Oscar…”
“If you really don’t want it, I can rent it out. But I’d much rather have you close.” He held out the keys again. “What do you say?”
You could have told him you needed more time to think about it, but deep down, you already knew what you wanted. You took the keys. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Oscar. Seriously.”
“No need to thank me.” He smiled.
Back in the UK, he showed Lily the photos he had taken of the condo he had chosen for them as they went over the paperwork one last time.
He grabbed the pen to scratch out one of the boxes Lily had checked, hoping she wouldn’t notice. 
“Oh, did I mess something up?” Shit. She leaned over his shoulder, reading the paperwork aloud. “Please indicate if you own any additional properties in the principality of Monaco.” She looked at Oscar. “You already have a property there?” 
“Oh, erm, yeah,” he said, hoping the conversation would end there. 
“How come I never heard about this?” 
“Um, I just got it a bit ago.”
Lily could sense her boyfriend’s hesitancy. “Is this something I wasn’t supposed to know about?”
“Oh, no,” he said, “it’s not like that. I just didn’t think to mention it.”
“So, what is this property?”
“An apartment.” 
Lily hated feeling like she was having to interrogate Oscar, but clearly there was some piece of the puzzle missing that was causing his reluctance. 
“An apartment?” she questioned. “You got another apartment?”
“Yeah, I, um,” he looked at the ceiling while scratching his neck, a clear sign of his nervousness, “I was planning on giving it to YN.”
“You bought YN an apartment in Monaco? When were you planning on telling me about this?” 
His walls of defense had finally broken down. “It’s not a big deal. I made more than enough last season, I could afford it.  And it’s just easier to have her there for the brand shoots and media stuff. Plus, I mean, she came to London to support me after graduation, even though I know she hates it here. I just figured I should repay the favor.”
“...Okay,” Lily began, her voice tinged with skepticism. “So, you do realize what this looks like, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, my boyfriend bought an apartment for his “best friend” and tried to hide it from me. That’s the kind of thing cheating husbands do in movies, buy an apartment for their mistress for her to keep it quiet.”
Oscar wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the air quotes Lily placed around “best friend” or the insinuation that he had been unfaithful. 
“Lily, seriously? I’m not cheating on you, I love you and you know that.”
“When were you going to tell me about this?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. You know YN and I have been friends forever, it’s not like I did this for some random woman. I don’t appreciate being accused of lying.”
“But you were lying by omission.”
“Lily—”
“You know, nothing against her, but one of the reasons I was looking forward to this move was having more…us time. Without YN.” 
The statement brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Despite what she had said, it seemed like Lily did have something against you.
“You know, this kind of thing is why I was putting off telling you about it.”
“What are you saying?” she asked. Oscar knew he was tempting fire, but he didn’t care.
He continued, “You’re freaking out because I did something kind for a friend. I’m allowed to do whatever I want with my money.”
“I never said you weren’t, and I’m not freaking out. But I guess I’m just such a horrible person for saying I want to spend more time with my boyfriend.”
“If you’re putting down my “best friend” to do it,” he said, mocking her air quotes, “then yeah, that’s not cool.” 
“Oscar, you’re being so…weird about all of this. I’m not insulting YN. I just want to spend more time with you.”
“We’re literally going on vacation in February!”
“With friends. You invited your friends to our romantic getaway, Oscar.”
“You know I only have so much time off during the off season, and I’m spending most of it with realtors and accountants and eight thousand other people preparing us for this move. God forbid I want to invite my friends to Italy with us. Not everything can be just us, Lily.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m done with this conversation.”
The second next instance you could think of happened on the trip.
It was a beautiful getaway to the Amalfi Coast, your dream destination that you’d somehow never made it to.
The group of Oscar’s friends, including you and Lando, had plans to come and go, with everyone being gone before the fourteenth so that Oscar and Lily could have their Valentine's Day date. Of course, you knew nothing of the arguments they’d had in the past about this, but you had common sense enough to not be a third wheel. Oscar thought this was a good enough compromise. 
Well, he thought. 
From the moment he picked you up from the airport, you could tell that the energy was different than usual. He blamed it on jet lag, but you knew better. You knew your best friend too well.
It didn’t take you long to figure out the problem was between him and Lily. She was colder towards him; not enough for anyone but you and him to notice, but still there and undeniable. 
Even weirder was Lily’s…preoccupation, it seemed, with pointing out single and attractive men to you. It wasn’t a hushed reality that you were single, and had been for some time. You'd given up on dating a long time ago—you knew that you had already found the love of your life, and he just happened to be Lily’s boyfriend.
But, of course, you’d never tell anyone this. Lots of people were confused because you seemed so fine being single. But you thought that Lily, one of your best friends (at least, by association), would know that you weren’t really interested in meeting anyone. 
You sat with Lily in a restaurant overlooking the coast, the balcony having been rented out by Oscar for one of your last dinners. You all were waiting for him and Lando to join you, passing the time by ordering wine and appetizers.
“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Lily said, gesturing her head to your waiter that was walking back into the main restaurant. 
You didn’t really know what to say. You glanced at him through the glass wall. “Lily, he most definitely plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” you joked, reaching for a slice of bread on the table. “I didn’t know that was your type.”
“Well I don’t mean for me, I meant for you.”
You chuckled. “For me?”
“Well, yeah. Don’t you want to get yourself a hot Italian man?”
“I’m perfectly happy being single.” You tried to diffuse the awkward conversation, keeping a kind tone in your voice as you ate the bread and looked into the distance at the coastline.
“Oh, come on. We’ll get you someone, don’t worry.”
“I really am fine being single.”
“You know who else is single?” she asked, clearly ignoring your protests. “Lando!”
You laughed aloud. “Oh God, no. If I wanted to be cheated on, I would have stayed with my ex. Besides, Oscar would kill him.”
A curious fact: Oscar had never approved of a single person you had ever introduced him to. You had to spend hours talking him out of running over your ex with his F1 car after you found out about his infidelity. 
“Oh, who cares what Oscar thinks? I think you should go for it,” she said, watching as the waiter returned to pour your glasses of wine. 
“Lily,” you said, holding your glass, ready to take a sip, “I don’t want to be in a relationship, like, at all. It’s just…not for me.” You sipped the wine, but through the reflection on the glass, you could see that Lily had pursed her lips in an expression you couldn’t quite read.
“If you want me to stop third-wheeling you and Oscar, you can just say so,” you joked as the boys made their way to the balcony to join you. 
You didn’t know it, but your joke cut deep in Lily’s heart. 
Nothing was said about it during the dinner, but Lily’s strange energy continued. It quickly became uncomfortable how much she was pushing Lando and you to interact. 
And when you all made your way to a local nightclub after the dinner, it didn’t get any better. Lando quickly got himself lost in the crowd, and you were once again left to be the third wheel. 
You could tell that Lily was getting annoyed, but to be fair, she was also annoying you. 
“Go dance with Lando!” she shouted over the thumping bass. She gestured to the opposite corner of the small club, where Lando was currently making out with some random Italian woman. 
You pointed this fact out to Lily, who just grimaced. 
“Do you just want me to go away?” you joked.
“Yes!” she said, and you were taken aback, because she was definitely not joking. 
Oscar was at the bar getting drinks, far enough away that he couldn’t hear. To be honest, you didn’t even want to be in this club anymore. 
So you snuck out and began your walk home without telling any of them.
As you walked along the cobblestone streets, Oscar handed Lily a drink, pausing when he noticed that you weren’t there to receive yours. “Where’s YN?” he asked.
“She wasn’t feeling well, so she headed back,” Lily said. 
“By herself? Should we go check on her?”
Lily wanted to roll her eyes. “No, she’s just tired. C’mon, let’s go dance!”
Oscar obeyed, but couldn’t ignore the feeling inside him that something about this whole night had been odd. 
The next time he saw Lando, he decided to say something about it. 
“Hey mate, are you going back soon?” he asked. Lando nodded, clearly tipsy. “Can you check on YN? Lily said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Sure,” he said, annoyed at the mention of you again.
He did come back to the house soon, but with an equally drunk and giggly woman on his arm, the same girl he had been making out with in the corner of the club. 
You didn’t expect any of them for a long time, so you sat in the living room of the AirBNB, watching the waves cascade into the shore, romanticizing this complicated feeling that coiled itself inside of you. 
That was, until Lando stumbled in. 
His eyes got wide as dinner plates upon seeing you. The girl on his arm giggled and walked off into the nearest bathroom. 
“Hey YN,” he slurred. “Are you dying?”
You laughed. “I’m fine.”
“Lily said you were sick.” 
“Nope, I’m good.” 
He looked to the closed door of the bathroom. “Sorry about that,” he said.
“You’re fine. I’m…uh, not interested, anyway. I don’t know what Lily’s been on about today.”
“Oh, thank God,” he exhaled. You laughed, despite the sting of rejection in his relief. “Well, I’ll keep it quiet.”
“I’ve got headphones.”
You made your way to your room and put on your noise cancelling headphones, passing the time by scrolling and catching up on work emails, before falling asleep.
You didn’t sleep through the night, instead waking up in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was just beginning to round itself along the golden coast. You left your room to get a glass of water, not expecting to see the rest of your friends in the kitchen.
Lily looked hungover as hell, leaning her elbow on the counter, her hand resting uncomfortably on her forehead. Oscar was leaning against the counter on the other side while Lando sat at the bar next to Lily, drinking something out of a mug. His flight home was going to leave soon. 
You nodded to your three companions as you sipped your water glass, feeling the tension around you like an oncoming migraine. 
“You feeling okay?” Oscar asked. “Lily said you weren’t doing well last night.”
“Ah, just tired,” you answered. Lily had lied to both Lando and Oscar. That was a conversation for another day. 
“Well rested now?” Lily asked, her voice tinged with anger and fake sympathy.
“I’m fine,” was all you could answer. You glanced at Oscar, who gave you a knowing look. You had no idea what had gotten into her.
“Are you feeling okay, Lily? You look like you’re about to throw up,” you said, a more genuine concern in your voice.
“I’m fine too,” she said, clearly not fine.
Lando’s Uber pulled up, and you took the opportunity to help him transfer all his bags in one trip.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on with her?” he asked as you heaved the suitcase up into the trunk.
“No idea,” you answered. “Before you all got to the restaurant last night she was being…weird. For the record, I didn’t put her up to any of that.”
“I figured as much. You’re not the type.” Lando was right—it was common knowledge that you were happily single. 
“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. For the record, it made me uncomfortable too.”
He exhaled. “Eh, we’re cool. No hard feelings, yeah? I’m sure she’ll snap out of it.” 
“I hope so,” you said, giving him a wave as the car disappeared into the winding roads of the coast.
Back in the house, you could hear Oscar and Lily whispering to each other. You wanted nothing more than to disappear and act like this weird night and morning had never happened, but unfortunately, you had to cross through the kitchen back to your room. 
A hush went through the room when you entered. You walked as quickly as possible through the kitchen, but were stopped by a voice.
“YN,” Lily called. “I think you should leave.”
“Lily—” Oscar interjected.
“I was just going back to my room anyway,” you explained.
“That’s not what I meant. I think you should go home.”
“Lily, don’t do this—” Oscar pleaded. You just stood in shock.
“Actually, let me clarify,” she continued. “YN, I don’t want you here. Go home.”
“Lily!” Oscar interjected. “Don’t say that.”
“No, it’s fine,” you said, even though it was definitely not fine. “Let me pack and I’ll be on my way.”
You turned and continued back to your room, fully prepared to do as you had just said. But Oscar followed you.
“YN, wait. Stay,” he said. 
“Oscar, it’s fine.”
“I am so sorry that Lily said that, but I want you here.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two or why she’s so upset at me, but if someone tells me to go, I’m not going to overstay my welcome.”
“Still, that was so rude.”
“I’ve got thick skin. I won’t cry myself to sleep over it.” You looked out the window to the coast. “Look, I’ll just find someplace else to stay. A hotel for a few nights is cheaper than trying to reschedule my flight, anyways.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about me, Osc,” you said, patting his shoulder. “Go talk to her, figure out what’s wrong.” 
He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I already know what’s wrong. She’s mad that we don’t spend enough time together.”
“Then go spend time with her.”
“That was the plan! But, I mean, I’m pissed that she said that to you. And she spent all day yesterday trying to set you and Lando up, which was fucking weird.”
“Yeah,” you exhaled with a twinge of laughter. “Look, with my record I can’t exactly give you love advice, but I don’t mind leaving. You all clearly need some space, anyway. Just text me if you need anything, okay?”
Oscar gave you a flat smile and nod. 
You packed and quickly booked a private room at a local hostel for the next few days, planning to enjoy the last few days as a solo trip. You truly didn’t care, but in the back of your mind, you hoped that everything would be okay. You never received that text from Oscar. 
Back at the house, Oscar and Lily were alone. And neither of them were happy.
“Just fucking go with her if you’re that mad,” Lily said, egging Oscar on. He had always been slow to anger, but he couldn’t deny that he was pissed.
“What is wrong with you?” he questioned. “Why would you say that to her? Do you understand how rude that is? And not to mention the fact that you were being fucking weird with her and Lando all night.”
“Oscar, I’m not having this conversation right now.”
“No, I’m pissed!”
“And, as usual, it’s all about your feelings, hm?”
“What are you talking about?” 
“Don’t act stupid. Do you know how much I’ve put up with because I don’t want to hurt your feelings? Every vacation, every race weekend, she’s always there. And I put up with her because she’s your friend, but I don’t like her, Oscar.” 
“What did she do to you?” he asked. But Lily couldn’t answer. It wasn’t like there had been a specific incident or falling out; in fact, you had always been kind to her. Lily’s silence was all the answer that Oscar needed. 
“You knew that YN and I were a package deal from the beginning.” 
Tears came to Lily’s eyes. “But this was supposed to be our trip. Just us.” 
“Lily, they were only here for a few days. I specifically set it up so that we’d have 2 weeks to ourselves after they left. Is that not enough?” 
She was silent, at first. Then came a question out of left field. 
“Were you going to propose?” she asked.
Oscar made a face. “Propose?”
“I thought the point of the trip was that you were going to propose.” She looked away, trying to hide her tears. “I’m tired of feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. I’m sick of YN third wheeling, so I thought if I set her up with Lando, maybe she’d leave us alone for a while.” Her voice was tinged with an angry mocking. 
She continued, softer, “Oscar, I want to be your wife, I want to grow old with you—”
But Oscar had little sympathy for her. “That’s really what all this was about? Lily, I’m not proposing any time soon.”
“We’ve been together for nearly five years.”
“I know. But with the season starting soon—”
“There’ll always be another season, another race. Is your plan to just marry me when you retire?” The sarcasm had returned to her voice. “Do you even want to marry me?”
“Of course I do. But we’re young, we have time. I’m in no rush.” 
“I feel like you don’t care about what I want at all.”
“Lily, I’m trying. But I feel like you want me to cut off my best friend and settle down at 22. You’re asking things of me that I can’t give you.”
“Then why are we even doing this?” Lily asked.
“Because I love you, and I want this to work! But Lily, you can’t treat my friends like that. If you’re angry at me, talk to me, but don’t take it out on them. YN is an important part of my life, too.”
“I’m well aware.”
Oscar sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I’m going back to bed,” Lily announced, leaving the conversation altogether. 
When she woke up, her head was pounding. Oscar was asleep beside her, his back towards her, no warmth even in his unconscious state. She had slept through the entire day—the moon hung high in the sky. 
As she quietly made her way to the kitchen and got some water and a snack, the memory of what had happened came back, rushing over her. She felt horrible. 
The sleep and food had reset her mind. Make no mistake, she was still upset at Oscar, but what he had said was right—she shouldn’t have taken it out on you. She needed to make it right. 
She texted you. Hey YN, are you awake? I’d like to talk. In person, if you can. 
Only a few minutes later you responded, affirming that you were available and sending the address of your hostel. Lily got there quickly, quietly walking through the rooms to your private room in the back. When you shut the door behind you and you both sat on the bed, she broke down. 
“YN,” Lily began, “I am so sorry about this morning. Truthfully, I was upset at Oscar and I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have. I was so rude.”
“It’s okay,” you assured.
“No, it’s not,” Lily interjected. But she seemed at a loss for words. “I just… sometimes, I feel like I hardly get any alone time with Oscar anymore.”
“Because I’m always there?” you joked, not knowing how close to the truth you really were. Lily didn’t respond. “Look, if you want me to take a step back, I can do that.”
Her response was quiet. “Would that be too much to ask?”
“No.” But it was, in a way. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, but your expression gave away nothing. “I understand.”
“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” Lily confessed. You normally didn’t want to know the details of their relationship, because the truth was too heavy to bear. But it seemed cruel to cut her off. “I feel like he never wants to be around me, like he prefers his work and his friends over me. I want to get married and he doesn’t. He keeps saying it's too soon and he’s busy, but it’s been nearly five years! I mean, how long does he want me to wait?”
You felt uncomfortable, not sure how to comfort your best friend's girlfriend. So you were honest. “I don’t know, Lily. I don’t know what goes on in Oscar’s head any more than you do.”
“Yes you do,” she replied. “You’ve known him longer.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I think he’s in love with you.”
“No, no, no,” you said, wrapping Lily in an embrace as she cried. “No, he’s not. He loves you so much.”
“No,” she echoed. “He doesn’t.”
You didn’t know how to respond. You just held her. 
At one point, your phone buzzed, illuminating the screen. Some unimportant notification, but you noticed the date and time more than that. It was past midnight; Valentine’s Day. 
The third instance was during the first weekend of the 2025 season; the Australian Grand Prix.  
You hadn’t heard from Oscar since the trip. You didn’t really know what to say, and part of you was dreading having to speak to him, knowing that your mere presence was now a strain on his relationship.
Of course Lily wanted more time with him. It made sense. You were present at…most things, actually. But Oscar always invited you, and besides, they lived together. If you had known that you had overstayed your welcome, you never would have gone in the first place.
But on the other hand, you and Oscar had been a part of each other’s lives for nearly double the time that Lily had been around. It wasn’t a competition, but you couldn’t shake that sour feeling that rested in your stomach, that if given the chance, Lily would want you gone for good. 
Regardless, between the trip and the grand prix, life went on as normal. It was odd, since your job was literally running all the official OP81 media pages and merch website. You couldn’t not be a part of his life—you made your living by posting memes about him on the internet and organizing all his merch sales.
So, naturally, you went to nearly all the races to take photos of fans, the paddock, and the garage. It was one of your favorite parts of the job. 
But Australia was different. It was Oscar’s home race, and a place full of memories for you. 
Your family had moved to Australia when you were only seven, having absolutely no friends, except the sweet boy next door in your cul de sac. At first he was cold. You thought he hated you. But you were nothing if not stubborn. 
You remembered it like it was yesterday; for Christmas, you asked for a pink motorized jeep, just like the black one that Oscar—the neighbour boy, back then—had. You squealed for joy when you got it. And the very first thing you did was challenge him to a race.
He ignored you. So you rammed your car into his, causing both of them to break. Ever since, somehow, you’d been inseparable. 
Your parents traveled a lot for work, so instead of constantly going with them, you found yourself staying with the Piastri family for months at a time. Nicole truly felt like your second mom, and Hattie was the sister you never had. And Oscar was…Oscar. It was impossible to describe the bond between you. 
Your parents were never too keen on Oscar, though. They kept it quiet when you were little, but as you grew, their dislike became more outward.
He was 14, leaving for boarding school in the UK. When he told you, you cried. That’s the only time he ever saw you cry.
You wanted to go with him, but your parents couldn’t afford it. He promised he wouldn’t let your friendship die, and he was true to his word. When he got into the higher formulas in racing, he helped you get your job so that you all would never be that far from each other again. 
But your parents always said he was using you, stringing you along, exploiting your labor. Though you’d never admitted it to another soul, they knew you well enough to understand that you loved him. 
You cut your parents off a long time ago. 
Sometimes the fans were worse. Half of them loved you—the half that understood that you could give them access to your idol—but the other half of them called you a beneficiary of nepotism, a gold digger, or a homewrecker. You learned at a young age to develop thick skin. 
And it was how you both behaved on race weekends that really exemplified the difference between you and Lily. 
You liked to be everywhere at once—in the garage trying to interpret the engineers’ technical jargon, in the grandstands taking photos of fans, in the pitlane shooting the shit with the race stewards. You always wore Oscar’s merch, and you wanted to be in the middle of all the action.
Lily, in contrast, was more reserved. She always looked put together, and frankly stunning, at all her appearances. She preferred to watch the race from the comfort and privacy of McLaren hospitality, and when she did interact with fans, she was respectful but short, very conscious of her space.
Neither of you were better or worse than the other. But no one could deny that you were polar opposites. 
You got to Australia before Oscar himself did, having been invited to spend a few days with your surrogate family before you’d have to stay in the hotel, per F1 employee policy. Nicole had told Oscar, who you assumed had told Lily, and when you didn’t hear anything for a few days before you were meant to fly out, you thought everything was fine.
Of course, you thought wrong. 
You spent 3 days with Oscar’s family, relishing the warm feeling of belonging that you’d missed. The Piastri guest room felt more like your own childhood bedroom. Of course, Nicole asked how you’d been, but you were politely distant, wanting to respect the fact that Oscar and Lily’s relationship was none of your business. 
When the pair finally landed in Australia and made their way to Oscar’s childhood home for the night, though, things worsened. 
When Nicole got back from picking them up from the airport, you were in the kitchen prepping dinner. Hearing the front door close, you looked up and smiled, greeting the group.
“YN! What are you doing here?” Lily asked, her voice tentative. 
Nicole answered for you. “Oh, she’s been here since Sunday. I’m so happy to have all my kids under the same roof again,” she joked, turning to Oscar to reach up and pinch his cheeks.
Lily just gave a pained smile. 
You didn’t know what to do. You hadn’t talked to Oscar in nearly a month. You wanted to honor her wishes—but it seemed like her wish was for you to vanish into thin air. 
The rest of the night you were unusually quiet, trying to blend into the background. It wasn’t difficult for Nicole to notice that something was up, but she knew better than to bring it up in front of the whole table. 
After dinner she wanted everyone to gather in the living room and watch a movie, which you quickly bowed out of, complaining of exhaustion. 
As the credits rolled, Nicole leaned over to whisper to Oscar, “Is everything okay with YN?” 
Lily overheard and interjected, “She’s fine.” Nicole raised an eyebrow. 
Oscar responded, “The home grand prix is always busy for her.”
The answer wasn’t sufficient enough to crush Nicole’s suspicions, but she didn’t have any more time to pry as her son and his girlfriend quickly decided to retire for the night themselves. 
The next morning, as everyone was packing to get to the hotel, Nicole decided to ask you herself if everything was okay. But predictably, again, you just said that you were fine. And the morning was so hectic that she didn’t really have the time to interrogate you.
Once you all got settled and to the track for media day, work mode took over, and you forgot all about the tension at the Piastri family home. Though you quite literally were paid to follow Oscar around all day, you felt more like the paparazzi than his friend, hardly ever speaking to him.
And as you went back to the hotel room alone to edit and post for tonight, you felt like a stranger in your own body. 
You didn’t want to do this anymore. You missed your friend, but more importantly, you missed being yourself.
But what were you supposed to do? You loved Oscar. Oscar loved Lily. Lily hated you. 
You were stuck between three impossible choices: stick around and be forced to subdue yourself into a shell of your true personality until Lily decided she wasn’t upset at you anymore, lose everything you’d ever built by quitting and moving away like you knew she wanted, or continue being yourself and possibly cost Oscar the love of his life. 
Yeah, this was a wonderful predicament you found yourself in, through no fault of your own.
You moved like a zombie through the free practices and qualifying. When it was finally time for the grand prix, you assumed your usual place in the McLaren garage, for work if nothing else.
But then, Oscar won. 
No team rules. No convoluted strategies. Just Oscar doing what he did best.
You couldn’t hear your own thoughts over the shout of the garage and the crowd in the distance, cheering out for their hometown hero. You ran out with everyone to the barricades to greet your best friend.
Though he still had his helmet on, you could see the effects of his smile in his squinted eyes. He pumped his fist in the air, cheering to himself before running to the barricades to jump into the waiting arms of the crowd. You cheered with them, overwhelmed with pride. 
Oscar locked eyes with you, cupping your face with his gloved hands and pressing the top of his helmet to your forehead. “I did it, YN!”
“You did!” you yelled, smiling ear to ear. 
Of course, people took photos. Photos that Oscar posted later that night. 
Lily didn’t like it—the sweet intimacy of the moment, front and center on Oscar’s Instagram page. Why would you post that? It was like you were taunting her. 
Lily sat on the edge of the hotel bed while Oscar showered, both of them preparing to meet you, Lando, and a few McLaren team members to celebrate his win. 
When Oscar emerged from the bathroom, Lily asked him, “Osc, can you do me a favor?”
“Hm?” he murmured as he dried his hair. 
“Can you take down that picture that YN posted?”
“YN posted something?” he questioned, grabbing his phone. As his social media manager, you had access to all his accounts, but occasionally he’d post something himself, too. “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”
Lily pursed her lips. “The first picture from the post she made an hour ago.” 
“Oh, this?” Oscar held up his phone. “I posted that.” 
Lily was silent. 
“Why do you want me to delete it? It’s a good photo.” 
Lily just looked at him. Oscar sighed and archived the photo. “There, happy?”
His tone was much harsher than he intended, but to be honest, he was getting tired of the constant fighting, and his patience was wearing thin. 
Lily kept quiet, just silently going into the bathroom to start doing her makeup.
In the lobby of the hotel an hour or so later, you awkwardly stood with Lando waiting for the couple to arrive. Once again you were torn—should you miss out on celebrating with your best friend on his first ever home win, or should you go and strain his relationship further? 
You were just going to say screw it and go back up to your room when you saw Lily and Oscar walking towards you. Though there was no tension between them, there was no love either. They both just looked…tired. 
Everyone had decided to keep it relaxed for tonight, just doing a nice group dinner with Oscar’s family. It was fine, albeit a tad awkward, because you were sitting between Lando and some McLaren employees you didn’t know, at the opposite end of the table from Lily, Oscar, and his family. 
You knew this couldn’t continue forever. Something had to break. And it did, when you and Lando ended up back in Oscar and Lily’s room, drinking your way through a bottle of nice champagne. 
The alcohol seemed to have calmed Lando’s nerves, as he was actually normal with you. And Oscar was a blushy, smiling mess and he and his teammate laughed at something you couldn’t remember. 
You opened your mouth to say something, but the mood was ruined by Lily’s drunken slurring. “Oh my God, YN, just shut up! Go away!” she giggled and grabbed Oscar’s arm. 
Usually, you were calm, letting any infraction roll off of you like waves on the beach. But the alcohol emboldened you. 
“Lily, what the fuck is your problem with me?” you asked.
The mood shifted, and Lily gave you a look of disgust. “I was just joking, God.”
“No you weren’t.” 
Lando chimed in. “Well, I think I gotta call it a night.” He got up and patted Oscar on the back. The two men stood up to walk out, leaving just you and Lily alone in the hotel room. 
“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is with me, but don’t act like there isn’t one. It’s obvious that you don’t want me around, I don’t know what I ever did to you.”
Lily had clearly been sobered up by your seriousness. Still, she burst into tears. 
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.” 
You sighed, unable to keep your anger in the face of her cries. She continued, “I just… Oscar and I were each other’s first everything. First love, first kiss…first time. I love him so much.”
“I’m not trying to steal him from you.” 
Lily was quiet, and so were you. Something she had said gave you pause. 
They were each other’s first everything—no, that couldn’t be true. 
Because you were Oscar’s first. 
It had been many years—you were both 18—and you had never spoken about what happened. But you remembered. 
He came back home for Christmas from the UK. It was before he had even met Lily. 
You welcomed him home with an embrace—even with the frequent phone calls you had, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, now here before you, in the flesh.
Neither of you could sleep that night, and somehow you both found yourself in Oscar’s childhood bedroom, quiet in the early hours of the morning.
Though it was warm outside, Nicole had a habit of keeping the house frigid, so you and Oscar huddled together under the handmade quilt that decorated his bed. The moment was tender and quiet, together in the soft darkness. 
“Do you like it in the UK?” you asked him, your question searching for a genuine answer. 
“It’s okay, I guess. It’s what I have to do for the races.”
“But do you ever get…lonely?”
He paused. “Yeah. Sometimes.”
You traced small circles on the skin of your leg. The closeness of the moment was uncomfortable. 
“But you have friends, right?”
“Yeah, but they’re not, y’know, friends for life.”
“I get you.” You really did, not having many friends of your own since Oscar left. “But you must have a ton of girls, though. They all want the cool race car driver.” You smiled, trying to use your humor to lighten the intimacy of the moment. 
“No,” was all he answered. “And if I had a girlfriend, you’d be the first to know, anyway.” In the dark of the room, you could only see the outline of his features, but you could feel the pull of his eyes looking at you. “What, do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re bringing this up?” he asked. 
“Of course I don’t.” 
“What do you mean, of course?”
“I mean, why would I have a boyfriend? I have no friends and half the people at school think you don’t even exist.”
“What?” he laughed.
“Well, yeah, when I say my best friend drives race cars in the UK, most people think I’m making you up.” 
“Shit,” he laughed. 
“So, yeah, it doesn’t exactly get me dates,” you laughed. You felt your throat stiffen. “I haven’t even had my first kiss or anything.”
The silence in the room was thick. “I haven’t either,” Oscar confessed. 
You found it hard to believe. Oscar was handsome, funny, everything a girl could want. Neither of you had ever been social butterflies, though. 
Under the blanket, Oscar reached for your hand, placing it in his. Your heart was beating out of your chest; you had never even held a boy’s hand. 
“We could just…do it now,” he said. “Just to get it over with.” He feigned his usual nonchalance, but you could feel the increase of his heartbeat and the ever so subtle tremble in his voice. 
It would be easy for you to laugh it off like a joke. But you knew it wasn’t. And you wanted him. 
“Okay,” you said, your voice breathy with nervousness. 
You sat up on the bed, and saw the dark outline of his figure leaning towards you, gently tilting your head. 
And when his lips met yours, it felt like home. Like everything in your entire life had left you up to this moment, here in the warmth of your best friend’s childhood bedroom.
The kiss lasted longer than you anticipated, but when he did pull away, it was too soon. You were grateful for the darkness that hid your expression. But even without the light, Oscar could see the truth behind your eyes.
“We could…keep going.”
“Okay,” you repeated. 
One of his hands found your waist now, pulling you closer, as his other hand pushed back your hair that had fallen in your face.
Once again his lips met yours. It wasn’t like a spark within you—more like a calming, a sense of peace and safety. Of all the boys you’d crushed on before, Oscar was different. You trusted him with everything. 
And you showed him so. 
He slipped his tongue past your teeth, tentative, as if he was scared to do the wrong thing. But you let him close the gap, your own tongue gliding along his, goosebumps going down your back the closer you got. 
He wanted to put his hands all over you, but he was nervous.
He pulled away. “I…don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t either. Is it actually your first time?”
“Yeah. You don’t mind me being your first?”
“I trust you.”
So you both took it slow, taking each other’s hands where you wanted to be touched, not focusing on anything but the other. 
The love you made was quiet and simple, beautiful yet imperfect. But you didn’t need perfect. You just needed him. 
The next morning, you slipped out of his room before anyone was awake, afraid of what would happen if they found out.
But no one ever did. Oscar never said a word about it ever again, and neither did you; after the holidays, he went back to school and met Lily, and the rest was history. 
But you remembered. And as you sat in that hotel room years later waiting for him, you felt numb. 
By the time he got back Lily had calmed down, but you couldn’t stand to be there anymore. You announced your departure, but Oscar decided to walk you out, too. 
You closed the door behind you, but Oscar pulled you to not leave so quickly. 
“Hey, is everything alright with you and Lily?”
“No. It’s not.” 
He sighed. “I don’t know why she’s being like this.”
You just stared at him, your face blank. 
“What,” he asked, “don’t tell me you’re mad too.”
“Was Lily your first?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.” 
Oscar looked over his shoulder. “I’d really rather not talk about this in the hallway…”
“So do you want to go in the room and talk about it? In front of her? Because you lied to one of us. Which one was it?”
“YN, it’s—”
“Which one of us did you lie to, Oscar?”
He let out a sharp exhale, knowing there was no way to escape your line of questioning. He leaned down to whisper to you. “I didn’t lie to her. She just…assumed, and I never corrected her.”
“That’s still lying.”
“You really think I should go in there and tell her the truth?” His voice dripped with frustration.
“Yes. She deserves to know.”
“You know why I never told her? Because I knew this shit would happen, she’d get jealous and try to push you out of my life. If I tell her now, she’ll make me choose between the two of you.”
“Do you blame her?” you asked, astounded at how Oscar could be so clueless.
“Seriously?” he retorted. “You think she’s justified in doing all this to you? The entire reason she’s mad is because she knows if she tries to make me choose, I’m not choosing her.”
“Don’t say that! Oscar, she’s your girlfriend. You should love her.”
“I do. But things just…aren’t the same anymore. It’s like she wants me to change my whole life for her. I can’t do that.”
Unbeknownst to you, Lily got up from the bed and walked to the door, pressing her ear to it, where she could faintly hear you and Oscar arguing. 
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Oscar continued. “And if you don’t want her to split us up, just let me handle it.”
“Oscar, she deserves better than this. I’ve missed spending time with you, but… you’ve got to tell her the truth.”
Lily opened the door. “I knew it,” she said, her eyes full of tears. “I knew you were cheating.”
Your eyes were wide as dinner plates as Oscar cursed to himself. “Lily, I swear to God that is not what happened—”
“Don’t. Don’t even try,” she said, but Oscar pushed his way back into the room anyway. He looked back to you, and even without words, you knew it was time to go. You needed some sleep.
Unfortunately, Oscar would not be getting any sleep tonight. 
“Oscar, just stop lying to me! I’m tired of this!’ Lily cried, curling her legs to her chest as she sat on the bed.
“Lily, I swear, I have never cheated on you. What YN and I were talking about was something from a long time ago.”
“We’ve been together for five years!”
“Can I just explain myself? Please?”
Lily just broke down in sobs. “Do whatever. I don’t care anymore.”
Oscar sighed. “Look, I…I have lied to you. You weren’t my first. YN was.” He looked at his girlfriend, who was still just silently crying. “It was before we even met, and it was just once, and we’ve never done anything since. I would never cheat on you, I love you and—”
“When and where was it?” Lily asked, cutting him off with her statement more like a command than a question.
“The December before we met, when I came home for Christmas.”
“In your bed?”
He nodded.
“Oscar, I slept in that bed next to you the other night.”
He said nothing. 
“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Haven’t I been good to you?”
“Lily, I promise, I love you more than anything.”
“Then why would you lie to me for five years?”
Oscar took a deep breath and said, “Because I was afraid you would be upset. People don’t understand that me and YN are just friends. I mean, we were raised together, she’s like my sister.”
“You had sex with her. You took each other’s virginity.”
“It wasn’t…like that.”
“How can it not be like that? Do you even hear what you’re saying?” 
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
About an hour after you left, you heard a knock on your hotel room door, and you answered. It was, of course, Lily. 
“Tell me whatever Oscar wouldn’t,” she said. Her eyes were still puffy and red. 
You welcomed her in, beginning to tell her the entire truth. “Oscar and I had sex when we were 18, before he met you. We never talked about it afterwards. After you met I didn’t want to bring it up, I just assumed he’d do the right thing and tell you. I didn’t want to pry into your relationship.”
So, your stories matched. And Lily knew that you were nothing if not honest. 
“Do you love him?”
“Of course I do, he’s my best friend.”
“No, I mean, are you in love with him?” 
You didn’t answer immediately. What were you supposed to say?
Tears fought their way to the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I don’t know,” you began, but that was a lie, you did know. “I guess…I have a special type of love for him. We grew up together. When we were younger, yes, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But then he met you, and… Lily, he was so happy! I just…I realized that I wanted him to be happy more than I wanted him to be mine. So I made peace with the fact that this is how it had to be.”
Lily was overwhelmed with your honesty, in the face of so much deception. 
You continued, “I don’t blame you for being upset at me. Oscar should have been honest about what our friendship was like from the very beginning instead of lying to you. But I swear, we haven’t done anything while you all have been together. I’ve been cheated on and I know how much that hurts, I would never do that to anyone else. I’m so sorry it ended up like this.”
“No,” Lily said, “You’re the only one who’s been honest with me throughout all of this. Thank you.”
After that, you hadn’t heard from Oscar after that for a long time. Or, at least, a few weeks felt like a long time to you. But you had other pressing matters—your workload was through the roof with Oscar’s wins. Lando had snatched himself a win too, setting up an early battle for the championship. It was too early into the season to call it, but you knew Oscar was feeling the pressure with the possibility of his first championship dangling so close in front of him. So you kept your distance, not wanting to be a distraction.
That was, until he called you, saying just those three painful words.
“Lily left me.”
The sun was cresting over the horizon, illuminating the thick glass of your balcony and flooding light into your living room. You hadn’t gotten an ounce of rest. 
From your bedroom, you could hear Oscar snoring. You just let him sleep. 
God knows you both needed it. 
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norasalina · 1 day ago
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I’ve had a similar problem, but in 2023 I got lucky and was able to come across two of our mama cats right after birth, like, kittens still slimy right after, and they were too tired to run while I carefully set them up in a large dog crate I put in the laundry room (they each got their own).
But then another random cat showed up and had hers, so I got another cage, a smaller one, put her kittens in it, tied a string to the door, blocked the sides so she could only see then from the door, and hid around the corner. Took about 20 minutes, but the crying kittens got her in, I pulled the door shut, ran up to lock it, and was luckily able to find a shelter (all ours are luckily no-kill) that had room for them.
Once the two mamas had gotten their kittens weaned, I got them both fixed in one go, and after letting he recover released them. Found a few of the kittens homes (there were 8, 4 per litter) then got the rest acclimated to the outside, and then later that year got the females fixed just before they hit sexual maturity. Since they were raised indoor, all of them are perfectly friendly.
So that left one female cat. The only cat without a name because I can only think of rude things to call her. Every year she would have a litter, 3-4, and then start bringing them around for food. I’d catch the kittens, try the bait thing, fail because as soon as she saw me with them she’d be like “they’re gone now, so sad” and abandon them. So then I’d raise the kittens, fix any females, and she would come back later that year with a new litter.
Last year though, in the summer, I was finally able to catch the kittens at an age where she still wanted to rescue them. And after a few weeks, I was finally able to use a combination of food and the kittens as bait and use the sting-on-the-door trick.
Then, since it was good weather, I just put an old chick cage (No bottom, so they had grass) end to end with a big dog crate, which gave the kittens enough room to run around and grow properly and was big enough to keep mama cat from going stir crazy. I put a tarp over half of it, along with one of those storage bin cat houses so they had plenty of shelter, and just kept them there a few weeks until I could get the mama fixed and the un-adopted kittens into a shelter, since by then it was clear they’re been born too late in the year to make it through winter if it got as cold as it usually did.
So, not sure if any of that has any helpful ideas for you, but I’m kinda glad to know I’m not the only one being out-smarted by a cat! And finally catching her after a year was soooo satisfying!
We’ve had a cat fiasco
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demonic0angel · 2 days ago
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Prolonged ecto contamination can cause regenerative abilities. This is great when something important is stabbed or a limb is lost. But for other things, not so much.
“Daddy,” A five year old cried, “somethings wrong with mommy!”
Jason ran to his and his wifes room. He stopped by the door, taking in Jazz's tense still frame perched on the edge of their bed. She gazed at a small cylinder object cluched in her hands.
"Jazz?" Jason called.
She slowly lifted her gaze to him and turned the object around, revealing two pink lines.
"Is-is that an old one?" Jason stammered.
Jazz moved her head to side to side.
"Defective?"
"I've done ten of them, all the same."
But, but that couldn't be. Jason mentally floundered. After a failed vasectomy resulting in kid numer six and then a failed tube tying causeing baby number seven, Jazz had a hysterectomy.
Jason opened his mouth to address this but then remembered that their kids were in the room. It wouldn't be good for kids to witness their parents having a meltdown over a positive pregnancy test. Or discuss a possible lawsuit against a certain hospital and surgeon.
Switching gears, Jason called to his kids, "Come on tribe! To the living room for a movie."
"What about Mommy?" the five year old protested.
"Don't worry," Jason scooped up his kid and pecked her forehead. "Your dad got this," he said with way more confidence than he felt.
(OML I LITERALKY FUCKING ROLLED WHEN I SAW THIS ASK ASDFGHHKLLL THIS IS SO FUNNY BC IN MY ORIGINAL IDEAS ABIUT ANGER MANAGEMENT, THEY HAVE 5 KIDS)
Jazz stared at him blankly. Jason stared back. They both stared at each other. Then he admitted, “I don’t think I got this.”
Thank goodness their oldest, Elinor, was able to understand and distract all of her siblings. Now it was just Jason, Jazz, and their Ancient ghost dog alone to discuss what to do next.
Jazz continued staring at him, holding Shadow in her arms before she said, “Y’know, we could….”
“Don’t even start,” he said in exasperation. While he would always give her the choice, he knew that none of them would actually genuinely consider it.
She sighed. “I know. I want it anyways. It’s mine. It’s our baby.”
Her possessiveness was so cute. Jason reached over to hug her, squeezing her gently and placing his chin on her head. It was a bit difficult due to her height, but she hunched over to tuck herself into his arms, so it was a little easier.
“We’ll handle it. Together, like always. It’s not like we’re lacking in money anyways. And we have plenty of rooms and we can get help from our support groups. I can take another break from being Red Hood and you’ve never stopped your online therapy sessions, so I think we can do this.”
Jazz sighed, nodding before she suddenly groaned aloud and used a fist to hit Jason’s chest. Jason blinked. “What?”
“You know what my siblings call me?! They call Miss Weasley! At this rate, we’ll have a football team by the time we’re done!”
Jason tried not to laugh but a twitch must’ve alerted Jazz to his amusement because she looked up at him and glared. Shadow growled lightly on her lap. She scolded, “You’re giving the news to our families again. And I won’t stop Dan from trying to kill you this time.”
“Even if it makes you a single mother to 7 kids?” Jason asked idly.
Jazz paused and then she cursed softly. Jason snorted into her shoulder before Jazz then said, “I think after this, we’re using condoms again.”
Horrified, Jason lifted his head up and stared at her in disbelief and shocked horror. “What!”
“Jason! We have 7 kids now! Can I please get a break!”
Jason groaned, long and loud. Then he sighed, rubbing Jazz’s sides in faux sadness as he bemoaned, “Fine… since I love you so much… I’ll wear protection next time…”
Jazz pinched his cheek with a little narrowed eye stare and smile, shaking lightly but she said, “Thank you, dearest. We’ll handle this together, alright? It won’t be easy, but we’ve done this six times before, we can do this a seventh time. I think I should ask Dan how he does it…” she mumbled more plans to herself, as Jason just held her, closing his eyes.
If his past self was ever told that he’d have a wife and seven kids, he was sure that he’d probably snitch to the cops that someone was hallucinating.
Not that he’d ever trade this for the world, of course.
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care666bear · 2 days ago
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hcneymooners · 3 days ago
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IDK IF MY OG ASK GOT SENT BUT it my bday today hehe i would rlly love an sfw fic w ambessa.. any trope/storyline would be great cus i love anything u write hehehehehehe
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⋆ let me see you and stay.
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wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.
synopsis: it's your birthday, which means it's the most important day of your life—and ambessa's. after all, this is the day that the love of her life was born.
cw: age difference, older woman/younger woman, soft!ambessa, fluff, modern au! this is a drabble. notes: happy (belated) birthday to you, my angel girl. i love capricorns so much, and i adore you in general. this is short, but i didn't want to make you wait any longer! i hope this fills with you all the love and warmth you deserve. giving you a million kisses and a huge hug. i hope your day was perfect, mama.
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your birthday had never been something you held many expectations for. you simply woke up, blinked gently into the new day, and found that you were older.  
this meant that, to celebrate you, ambessa had to plan carefully. you were a clever, meticulous thing and would’ve told her that it was all too much. but she also knew you needed it. too often, you were torn away from her and the people you loved, your feet traipsing across the globe with barely a moment to rest.  
it didn’t help that your birthday fell during the busiest season of the year. people became trapped in the suffocating whirlwind of the holidays, and by the time your day arrived, they were tired, forgetful, slow. messages trickled in around noon, long after the morning had already left you sad. you’d learned to cope by sleeping late, letting the hours pass you by until the world remembered.  
but with ambessa, it would be different.
she had decided this from the moment she met you—that evening at an art gallery, when you’d mentioned in passing that you’d tucked another year under your belt and had decided to take yourself out. the way you glanced at her, wide-eyed and melting into your opulent evening gown, had stayed with her ever since. she’d known two things then: that she would only ever love you this deeply for the rest of your life, and that she would do anything to please you.  
the past few weeks had been a headache of coordination, a collaboration with only the best. the grand celebration was set for later that evening, but the morning was hers alone to give you. your phone sat in her office, plugged into its charger and safely away from your anxious hands. she didn’t want you repeating the ritual of tapping the screen awake only to meet the stillness of time and belated notifications.  
the sun crept into the room silently, like a child sneaking into bed with their parents. ambessa hadn’t opened the curtains fully, letting the light filter in gauzily through the fabric. beside her, your body rose and fell in soft rhythm, your hair pillowed around you, errant curls kissing at your cheeks and mouth.  
she turned toward you carefully, her movements measured. leaning in, she began to press soft kisses wherever she could reach—your forehead, the nape of your neck, the delicate line of your spine, the tender curve of your chest. your body stirred beneath her affection, and she watched your eyelashes flutter like birds as you slowly began to wake. 
she didn’t rush you, only gathered you into her lap as she leaned back against the headboard.  
you were beautiful, curled into her, your hands in loose fists near your chest. younger than her by far—a scandal she had endured with unflinching resolve—but now she could see time leaving its marks on you. the faint stretch of skin along your hips, the softening of your nose, the deepening lines near your eyes. she adored all of it.  
you had upended her life, burrowed into her heart so completely that she knew she could never purge you. as if she would ever want to. to kiss your mouth, to feel your skin, to hear your voice—it had renewed her faith in life, in people, in the possibility of a beautiful life.  
a low groan escaped your lips, breaking her reverie. you stretched lazily, kicking out your feet, and she bit back a laugh. the bed was large enough to save the cake on your nightstand from disaster—a towering confection of pink and cream, its two tiers bedecked with the finest details.  
you blinked up at her, your semi-nakedness a casual thing. it wasn’t sexual—just a preference for sleep, one that let your skin breathe and your body rest.  
“good morning, sweet girl,” she murmured.  
you smiled, all teeth, and she felt her resolve crack, the force of your joy like a hammer against stone. she would surrender time and time again, if that meant you would always be happy. 
leaning down, she kissed you softly, as if afraid you might break. you deepened it, pulling her closer, and when you finally parted, she nuzzled your cheek.  
“happy birthday, baby.”  
you bit your lip, bashful but pleased.  
“thank you, bessa.”  
your gaze shifted to the cake and the sea of gifts below it, piled in a messy, extravagant display.  
“ambessa…”  
“quiet,” she interrupted, her voice firm but teasing. “you can’t send anything back. half of these are from mel, and the rest are from me. kino baked the cake.”  
“you are devious,” you teased, pushing gently at her shoulder.  
“yes,” she agreed without hesitation.  
your laugh filled the room, bright and free, and she descended on you with a playful vengeance, her hands finding your stomach and feet. you squealed beneath her tickling, helpless and gleaming with joy. eventually, she relented, shifting you carefully as she moved to retrieve the cake. setting it between you, she watched as you took it in with wide eyes.  
“it’s perfect,” you whispered, the candles casting soft shadows on your face.  “thank you, baby.”
she drew you close, her lips brushing against your hair as you leaned forward to blow them out. the flames wavered and died, leaving only the faint scent of smoke curling into the air.  
“what did you wish for?” she asked, her voice low.  
your gaze found hers, bright and glittering like jewels.  
“what i always do. i only want to always be your girl.”  
silence fell between you. in the distance, your phone began to ring, but ambessa made no move to retrieve it. her eyes shone, suspiciously wet, and her hand tightened on your hip.  
“i don’t know how i lived before you,” she said softly, “or what i would do after—if—”  
you cut her off, dipping a finger into the cake and pressing it to her lips.  
“you know what?” you murmured, your voice like velvet. “i used to be scared too. but not anymore. what’s the point?”  
she offered you a piece in return, and you took it, savoring the sweetness. your eyes fell on the ring on her finger, the one that matched yours in size and shape. 
“you and me?” you said after swallowing. you gazed at her, and the love within it was relentless. “we’re it, honey.”  
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© hcneymooners.
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luminantjess · 3 days ago
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Fucking right. If you need to start HRT, damn the torpedoes and start HRT.
When I knew I had to transition, I broke down. I knew HRT was the thing I needed, to live as my true self was the only way I could continue.
My wife, at the time, did not want this. Her initial reaction was fear, and sadness, and maybe anger. She thought she hadn't married a woman. She didn't know how we could continue on if I "made this choice."
I tried very, very hard to not make the choice. I tried to stuff all the feelings back where they'd been. But the seal had been broken, my egg had cracked, and there was no putting things back.
So, I told her that regardless of what happened next, I had to transition. That I didn't want to ruin our marriage, or hurt her or our kids, but that it wasn't a choice I was making; I needed to be me, and that was that.
Do what's right for you.
“but my girlfriend said she’d break up with me if I started hrt…” FUCKING LEAVE HER THEN!!
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cercandodiscrivere · 2 days ago
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Cadere | emperor geta x reader.
word count | 2.7k
warnings | 18+, infidelity / cheating, dark themes (mentions of war, death and murder), murder plans as part of sex talk, prayers, porn with too much plot, unbeta'd.
synopsis |The last time you dared to beg the gods for favour, you pleaded to be given to a man over another.
It seems just like a cruel joke how your wish was granted now—a jest that only serves to make you beg once more.
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gif found online.
“Dea, quae thalamorum custos es et coniugii praesidium, domum meam ab hostibus defende, me tua virtute sustenta.”
The voice, a low and steady murmur, seeps into the room like a wisp of warm air: Lucilla's prayer is not so much a plea as a soft-spoken lament, her words coated in a quiet sorrow that seems to echo throught the marble walls.
The words she whispers are unfamiliar, not part of the litany you were taught at the temple. Each request is carefully considered and every word is chosen with intention.
The last time you pleaded to the gods with such desperation, it was to beg for them to alter the path your father had chosen—but no divine messenger appeared in his dreams. The gods had greater concerns than the unwanted marriage of a young girl.
You wondered if they watched when your father confirmed Tiberius Aemilius Marcellus’ desire to wed you. If they knew the torment of leaving the sanctuary of the home you had grown in.
If they noticed how, even if you still tried to tint your prayers with the same devotion, they always tasted as sour as vinegar on your tongue.
“Virum meum sanum et incolumem redde, ut cor meum eius reditu gaudeat.”
The voice brings you back to the present.
Lucilla may have been careful with her words, but she showed little regard for the dove that she had her servants sacrifice. A delicate creature, even with its feathers stained red: an offering to Juno, the guardian of the household and of women. A gesture to secure your husbands safe return from battle.
You had anticipated a prayer to Mars, a tradition before men embark on glorious battles (although Tiberius, if he could hear your thoughts, would remind you that the true glory comes only after the brutality of war).
Lucilla appeared to share a similar opinion. "Leave it to the men to pray for war" she said when you had asked her. "We women pray for our lovers' safe return".
Affection is the closest thing to the sentiment you feel for Tiberius: more unbridled feelings are reserved for poetry and drama, not arranged marriages. He is a kind and devoted man, as is expected. As a Legate for the army, he ensures your safety: as his whife, your heritage secures the continuation of his bloodline—and that is all.
“Why not pray to Victoria, then?”.
“Victorious or not, let them come home alive—for if a man dies at war, sad is his wife’s fate”.
And with that, you knelt and bowed your head, listening intently as the woman begun her pleading.
The room is now filled with a dense and overwhelming aroma of incense; the scent clings to your throat, suffocating the air. As the smoke rises in coiling tendrils, it wraps around you, casting flickering shadows that dance along the walls.
The night outside is eerily quiet, the sound of men's laughter echoing through the walls: tomorrow morning, when the Emperors will bid farwell to the soldiers and their purpose, there will be no mirth.
The Emperors.
Your family had once been part of Settimio Severo’s court, your father a cousin to the imposing ruler. You grew alongside his sons—a past far enough that seems almost like a dream. Once, you used to hide with Caracalla to infiltrate the adults’ cenae, trying to steal wine without being seen. You would watch Geta as he trained, a lanky child with a gaze too serious for his age.
It has been years since they watched you leave, the bright nuptial flammeum still pinned to your hair. Now, all that remains to fuel your fantasies are fading memories and the echoes of laughter from the banquet; a grand celebration held by a General seeking approval from his Emperors.
One where lieutenants indulged in sweetened wine, losing themselves in its intoxicating spices.
A gathering not meant for women to attend.
“Pacem et securitatem mihi largire, et ne sinas me in bracchia malignorum cadere, ut sub tua misericordia vivere possim”. Lucilla’s voice falters as she finishes the prayer, the room falling into an unsettling stillness.
In the distance, someone shouts while others laugh. A servant standing behind you moves, her tunic brushing against the floor.
Lucilla's eyes quickly glance in your direction before she speaks. “Will you walk with me in the gardens?”.
To catch one last glimpse of our husbands is the implicit proposition; and while in every other situation you would never deny a woman of such high status, there is nothing you desire less—because catching a glimpse of Tiberius would mean seeing his domine. Your heart would not dare.
“Your request is kind” you answer, hoping your voice comes out as somber as hers. “But I have a son to go back to”.
You regret the excuse almost as soon as it leaves your lips, for the saddened look Lucilla gives you almost makes you stay. Out of all the things you could have said to her as you left her alone in the darkness of her home—filled with Acacio's men but devoid of any comfort for her—somehow it feels as if you chose the most hurtful one.
A moment later, her lips curve upwards in what could be considered a smile; yet it appears more like a mask meant to please others than a genuine reaction.
“I understand”.
Still smiling, she orders a servant to inform your litter carriers to wait for you at the entrance.
_
You bid Lucilla farewell with a respectful bow, one that she does not seem to register. Escorted away by her ancillas, you assume she will not walk through the gardens now that you are gone.
Indifferent to men’s affairs, the moon casts a silver glow — and yet the night is still too dark, too overwhelming to bear alone.
You should reach the entrance: but as you stand in the peristylium, your feet refuse to move. In the middle of the open courtyard, ecircled by towering columns, you can’t help but feel trapped.
Beyond the opposite wall lies the raucous dining hall, the air filled with laughts and shouts.
There’s music. There’s the sound of plates clattering and glasses clinking, accompanied by the occasional splash of wine that some drunken guests might have spilled. There’s footsteps, right behind you.
Footsteps. Behind you.
"Leaving so soon, without greeting the guests?".
You spin around, your breath catching in your throat —and there he is, just a few steps behind you. Geta.
Bathed in the moon's ethereal glow, his features are sharper than you remembered. You had always envisioned him and his twin as shining gold: gold like their crowns, gold like their coins and their brooches and the divine blood that flows whithin their veins.
Under the silver light, he instead emerges from darkness like a haunting memory from your past.
"Domine" you say as you lower yourself into curtsy—for an Emperor who speaks is one who demands an answer.
Even with your head bowed down you can sense how the ceremonious response displeases him.
"Ah, so formal” he remarks, his tone still teasing. “No need”.
His hand gently lifts your chin, straightening you. “I recall a time when you would refuse to bow before me, just out of stubborness”. A small grin appears on his face—and for the second time tonight, you can't help but feel that something is off about the smiles on everyone's faces.
“You would throw tantrums, and father would force me to apologise on my knees” you agree.
I miss those moments, you almost say—but it would make you seem too desperate.
Geta laughs openly, his hand still resting on you. He’s getting closer; you can almost smell the sweetness of the wine on his breath.
“It’s too early to be leaving” he says. “We haven't seen each other in years. It would be a pity to waste such a rare occasion”.
It occurs to you that you’re entirely alone with him now, and for just a moment you wonder if wandering the house alone was the best idea: your instinct is to give the same excuse you gave Lucilla—the longing to be in his presence so overwhelming it almost scares you.
…and yet, he wants it too. You cannot refuse an Emperor's request.
“You are right. My servants can wait a bit longer; catching up with an old friend is more important. Let’s talk, then”.
Geta laughs once more, his nose almost touching yours as his fingers gently rest on your cheek.
“Who said anything about talking?”
His lips meet yours a moment after.
It’s an insistent kiss, one that will leave your lips raw and red.
Instinctually, you reach up and twine your fingers into his hair while his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you even closer. The resulti s that you fell trapped again—between his warm body and the chill of the marble column—and for a breathless moment, you lose yourself in the feeling.
It’s the sound of something hitting the floor, distant but still uncomfortably near, that has reality crash back like a cold wave.
You pull away abruptly, your heart racing. “Stop” go on go on go on.
Geta leans back just enough to give you space to speak.
"Tiberius is on the other sideof that wall" your voice is trembling—fear, excitement, shame. "A servant could walk this way at any moment. This is madness".
He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, as if your words hold no significance. "You recall" he says instead, "you recall when your father would demand that you apologize on your knees". He moves closer, but instead of kissing you again or pushing you to the ground, Geta shocks you by dropping at your feet himself.
His intense gaze used to be a serious one—almost too mature for a young and careless man—but now it’s wild, deranged. "If he let you stay, I would have adored you. Worshiped every step you took".
You do not respond to the delirious declaration, too dazed to do anything beside gasping for air.
“You look just as good as I remember” his voice is soft. “Charming. Sweet. Beautiful… a shame, to see you leave with a man so insignificant”.
As he speaks, his hand sneaks under your tunic, inching up and up and up as he stands.
“I… We can’t” you are not even sure if he hears you. Shame swirls in your loins, mixing with desire—and despite all reason, you don’t stop Geta as he pushes the layers of your skirt up to your hips.
He presses against you once more, his gaze never wavering from yours. He doesn't need permission; even he knows he already has it. He wants to hear you admit that you want him just as much as he wants you. He wishes for surrender.
You whisper his name, unsure if it's a scolding or a plea. He leans in closer, planting fiery kisses along your neck. His mouth sucks on your skin until you moan into the air above him, fingers tightening into ginger strands of his hair.
It’s too much.
It’s not nearly enough.
“Yes” you say. This time your voice is clear. “Take everything you want”.
“I will”.
With that as a last warning, he spears two fingers inside of you, finding you wet and wanting. You hold onto his shoulder tightly, your chest rising and falling with each breath as a loud moan escapes your lips, only encouraging him to continue.
You've shared nights with your husband before—but not like this, never like this.
"Please-" you gasp, trying to hold on to some sense of modesty while also giving in to the rough, demanding movement. His pace is fast and unrelenting, and the most careless of you eagerly surrenders to them in hopes of reaching release.
Geta's grin stretches across his face, victorious as if he has just won a fierce battle. “Oh, it would be a shame to leave you to that man”. His lips caress your ear. “But you won’t be with him for long”.
The worlds ring wrong, but you can't bring yourself to look away from him. You stand still, unable to move, overcome by ecstasy, destroyed by the intense passion that he effortlessly ignites within you.
“Battlefields are cruel. Soldiers get hurt” he continues, and his choice of topic is so strange that it snaps you back to reality. “It is not uncommon for a legate to lose his life in action”.
“What-” and it’s all you can get out before you're overcome with pleasure once again, completely helpless in its grip. You need more, need him, need something that will consume you entirely so you don't feel as dirty as you do in this moment.
Geta seems to understand. The fingers draw away; but before you can even register the loss, he aligns you with his cock and pushes inside.
You let out a sigh—in relief or shame or both—and his hand darts to your throat, not enough to cut off your air but just to silence your whine. The possessive way he grasps you only adds to your arousal.
“Yes, he won’t have you for much longer” he growls again. “I’ll make sure of that”. The confidence in his words is laced with lust: he exudes strength and control– yet, it seems that you have the power to unravel him just as much as he can unravel you.
The pace of his hips is bruising: almost too much to bear, but you can't get enough of it. He's claiming you as his own, branding you with every movement, inside and out.
“Tell me you are mine, just mine”.
“I am yours” you almost scream. “All yours, only yours”.
He lets out a rough groan, using the hand around your throat to grip your hair as he thrusts into you.
A thin layer of sweat has coated his forehead, furrowed brows and parted lips giving away his concentration. Whether it's the feeling of your burning flesh against his, or the whispered fantasies he keeps confessing to your skin, it has his body in a wreck of tension.
His lips leave your neck, chapped and red, his movements now erratic as he nears his impending orgasm.
He does not look at you when he comes: he rolls his eyes up at the dark sky, daring the Gods to judge him. You both dive into each other one last time, clawing, grasping, lost in fiery ecstasy that leaves you moaning beneath Geta as he empties himself inside you.
The act alone leaves you shaken, your back curved and legs trembling as you cry out at the top of your lungs. You hold onto his feverish and heated skin, so that when you come back to your senses the first sensation you feel is Geta—all over you, claiming you as his own.
He traces his fingers over your skin, and you feel completely undone. Spent.
As your heart rate slows and your breathing steadies, the sounds around you begin to resurface: the cacophony of laughter, gentle strumming of lyres, soldiers shouting at each other. You scan the peristylium, looking for any servants or guests meandering about.
“Hush, don’t worry” Geta says, redirecting your attention back to him.
He leans in closer, but instead of seeking another kiss, he simply rests his forehead against yours. “Soon, we won’t have to hide”.
He speaks of war again, and all the ways a man can perish: and as he does, a shadow creeps over his face, sinister and cold. You feel a chill run down your naked arms, this time not from shame.
Geta laughs and promises luxurious silks with precious jewels. He tells how perfect you will be by his side, in gold. How you will bear his heirs—and his alone.
The last time you dared to beg the gods for favour, you pleaded to be given to a man over another.
It seems just like a cruel joke how your wish was granted now—a jest that only serves to make you beg once more.
It’s true that you may never be as devoted as Lucilla is: and yet, as Geta pants beside you, her earlier words still echo in your mind.
Pacem et securitatem mihi largire [grant me peace and safety]
Et ne sinas me in bracchia malignorum cadere [and do not let me fall into the arms of the wicked ones].
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keepingitformyself · 3 days ago
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older (and wiser): i
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synopsis: in which time could have never undone what she left.
A/N: FIRST WANDA FIC!!! had this idea long ago when i was crushing hard on this girl from the theatre program at my uni; around that time i had also seen ‘past lives’ and i wanted to do something similar with that film. also at my core i know wanda maximoff would’ve totally been a theatre kid, this is me paying ode to that. while this specific part doesn’t go into that, i am gonna work on a sort of prequel to this Short Series…anyways enjoy!!!
pairings: wanda maximoff x reader
genre: angst?
warnings: it’s sad. but it gets hopeful…
MASTERLIST
please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.
it had been years.
wanda had finally decided to take a breather. she’d been working non-stop ever since she left for work all those years ago after college.
she didn’t think she’d get so lucky off that one job, that it’d immediately get her into another, or another, and so on and so forth.
she loved her work, sure, but now it was catching up to her. everyone in her life, her manager, her agent, her family had all begged her to slow down.
“take some time off, wanda.” her agent, daniel had said to her during a meeting. wanda’s eyes traveled between daniel and her manager, samara.
the meeting had all been a set up. what wanda thought was supposed to be a discussion on a new project, was actually a ploy. she had no idea the meeting was meant to convince her to take a break.
“yeah right.” she scoffed. not believing in what they were saying.
“we’re serious, wanda.” samara stated, her eyes stern but with genuine care. “when was the last time you had time for yourself?”
wanda remained silent at the words. all of a sudden she felt like a kid being scolded by their parents. and she wished to be anywhere else but in the room with them.
“really.” daniel starts. “go be a real person. smell the flowers, meet people, fall in love, take in the view—”
“i meet people all the time, daniel.” wanda quickly cut in.
all daniel could do was shake his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried his hardest to make the woman in front of him understand.
“you know that’s not what i meant, wanda.” he gives her a pointed look.
with a jaw clenched, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked off to the side. the windows overlooking los angeles now seeming more interesting than this conversation.
“we know how much it means for you to work, we know how much you enjoy it, but you’ve been doing it for so long. we just want you at your best.” she hears samara say. and as much as she hated to admit it, daniel and samara were right.
wanda hadn’t stopped working since she started. in fact, it’s all she can think to do. she didn’t have anyone outside of work—no partner, no obligations except to her family. why stop when there was nothing waiting for her?
wanda knew the answer but wouldn’t admit it. she might as well never have fully faced it.
the truth was, she’d loved someone once. she’d loved you. and no matter how much time had passed, the thought of you still gnawed at her.
though everything was perfect for a while, her career was well off, she was successful, and her family was proud.
but wanda couldn’t help asking, is this really it?
of course, she tried meeting people. she really tried. she didn't like being miserable over someone she hadn't been in contact with for years. but even that wasn't enough. it was honestly a bit pathetic. it had happened years ago. four years, to be exact. wanda should’ve been well moved on by now, but she isn’t. at least not entirely.
so, she poured everything into her work to distract her from that gnawing feeling inside her. the one that had been lit up all those years ago. the one that was tamable with you around.
but you’re not around, and wanda couldn’t help but throw herself into more work hoping she could get rid of it, get rid of you. but she hasn’t.
“listen, wanda,” daniel cuts her train of thought. “your work is important and people need it, but to keep it up to that degree, you need to go out and just be a human.” he finishes.
wanda sighs. she leans forward on her knees and drops her head into her hands. daniel was right. they were both so right.
wanda never properly dealt with things. maybe it's time she finally did.
she looks up from her hands, a look of defeat yet understanding, with pursed lips she finally says,
"fine."
and now, two months later, wanda finds herself back in los angeles, in an empty home, eating expensive sushi.
she had gotten off the phone with her brother, pietro, who had just joined her on the recent trip she’d been on.
a trip that he insisted he’d join her on to make sure wanda would do all the resting and touristy things she should.
she had done all the traveling she could do in the last two months, jumping from plane to plane. talking to strangers, being a tourist in european cities, and befriending random people in planes.
now, wanda actually had time for herself, time with her brain. a thing she honestly didn't want to face. because even thinking about anything made it even more real.
but now wanda was bored, and the movie playing on her eighty-inch television wasn't doing much to entertain her. and it also didn't help that it was eleven pm on a thursday night and all wanda could do was feel bad for herself.
so she does the next thing she had been really trying to avoid,
stalking your social media.
wanda herself wasn’t much active online these days. she had much to do day-to-day and week-to-week, rarely would she ever have the patience to sit down and scroll through her phone much. that and she honestly tried to stay off of it.
but now she has the time. and the patience. and honestly, she’s a little scared at what she could find.
she tells herself it doesn't have to mean anything. just a little check-in to see how you were, after that she'd really work on trying to forget about you altogether.
and with the simple type in of your name, wanda finds your instagram. your profile picture, a professional headshot of you, and a bio that reads,
editor in chief.
New York Times contributor.
something that shouldn't have made wanda's chest burst with joy, but it does. and as she scrolls further and further, she finds that you now reside in new york city, that you've moved on well without her and that you have a cat and a boyfriend.
boyfriend.
she shouldn't care so much, but she does.
you were living your best life. the one you had always wanted.
just not with her. not with wanda.
but she doesn't stop there, and she ignores the lump in her throat as she exits your profile and searches for your mother's name.
and maybe she feels her heart break a little when it turns out the boyfriend you had is actually your fiancé. she finds out through a photo your mother posted.
the picture shows you, and a handsome man next to you. you’re both sat outside some restaurant in the city, his arm is thrown over your shoulder while your right hand clutches his left, and there it is. in all its glory—with the diamond on it catching the suns light perfectly. the ring on your finger.
it doesn’t help that he looks so in love with you.
out for lunch with y/n and paul again! i promised them an engagement lunch and we were NOT disappointed. make sure you try Jack’s Wife Freda if you are ever in SoHo!!#motherinlaw #NYC #loveinnewyork
is what the caption reads.
wanda freezes at the fact and immediately throws her phone on the empty seat beside her. she stares at it like it had just offended her.
many things go through her brain. how did you meet him? was it shortly after you broke up? was it really him you wanted to spend forever with? how long did it take for him to ask?
wanda had always loved your mother. a sweet woman who always had your best interests in mind. she had always pushed you to do what you loved. and wanda had always seen that some of her favorite traits of yours had come from her.
after the break up, your mom made sure to check in on wanda. without you ever knowing, wanda and your mom kept in touch, until eventually wanda had cut her line for the sake of fully moving on.
though, she never really fully did.
wanda evaluates what to do next. was this her sign? she doesn’t want it to be sign.
wanda doesn’t want to admit that it seems like you had moved on so completely.
on impulse she looks up your fiancé’s name. “paul” is all she had to type out in your mother’s following before she found his account.
she finds that paul is just as successful as you are. he’s an investigative journalist, born in ireland. he briefly worked at a publication in london but transferred to a firm in new york after a year.
he’s gorgeous, she thinks. he has blue eyes, a kind smile, and he has an accent. it would make perfectly good sense why you would choose him.
wanda’s stomach twists with a mix of happiness and regret.
“fuck!” She whispers to herself.
“of course, you’re happy. of course the man you’re engaged with is actually a decent man! fuck.” wanda says to no one in particular. in frustration, she burries her hands in her hair.
wanda is annoyed at herself.
“i need a drink,” in an instant she’s on her legs making her way to the kitchen. she finds a bottle of wine that has been kept cool in the fridge and she wastes no time in popping it open, she pauses briefly, debating on whether she’d need or glass or not.
to hell with a glass. she thinks, and makes her way back to the couch, she holds the bottle by its neck and takes a long swig from it.
it’s all so perfectly miserable. wanda maximoff stalking her ex-girlfriend on social media while she gets wasted. the self loathing has got the best of her. she finds it all ironic.
wanda maximoff could have anyone she wanted. she knew this. she has everything she could ever want or need. she has credibility, a nice home, the luxury of traveling at any moment she wants.
yet, her mind kept coming back to one thing. the one thing she’d decided she’d leave behind all those years ago. it isn’t fair, she thinks. wanda was young and stupid back then, but she was so so in love. she knew that for sure.
but sometimes…sometimes she really wishes she had fought harder.
briefly, wanda wonders if your number was still the same. if you had ever changed it or at least tried calling her. she wouldn’t know, she had changed it years ago once she started getting more attention for her work.
wanda was really drunk at this point. her better judgment had gone away as soon as she’d picked that bottle out the fridge. there was no better time than now.
she taps on her phone until she lands on the number keypad. her fingers hover over it, would she regret it if she didn’t? probably. would she regret it if she did? probably.
but if there was one thing wanda had, it’s that she’s got nerve and audacity.
so she types in the number that she doesn’t think she could ever forget, and lets it ring.
your fiancé answers the call.
“hello?” an irish accent sounds through the speaker. paul. wanda’s blood runs cold and she stays silent for a moment. all of sudden she feels incredibly sober and regretting making the call.
“hi.” she pauses. “uhm, i’m looking for y/n?” wanda manages to squeak out.
“right! who is this? your number isn’t saved.” paul says,
“an old friend. i changed my number a while back.” wanda replies smoothly.
“oh! let me pass her to you, she’s just in the kitchen.” the line goes quiet for a few moments, and she’s able to hear a few words exchanged between you and paul.
“hello?”
wanda freezes again, a hand covers her mouth as she tries not to shake at the sound of your voice. it’d been so long. she grips her phone tighter.
“hey…” her voice shaky and unmistakable. you know it’s wanda.
“wanda?” your voice betrayed the surprise you felt. from the couch paul caught your eye, a raised eyebrow on his face. everything okay? he mouthed.
you shook your head.
“i wondered if your number was still the same.” wanda says after a moment. her tone light, but with an undercurrent of something else.
your mind raced. why was she calling you? why now? your fiance was in the other room, you were getting married soon. you’d built a life perfectly fine without her in it. so why was she calling you now?
“how have you been?” her voice cuts through the line again. wanda holds the phone close to her ear, wanting to make sure she could hear every word you say.
and all you can think of is how confused you were.
“i- i’m fine. i’m good. yeah.”
“that’s good—”
“i’m sorry, uh…why are you calling?” you find yourself cutting her off. your fingers press against your forehead in act of trying to understand what was happening.
wanda pauses. she realizes just how impulsive this whole thing was. she’s on the phone with her ex of four years, while your fiancé was probably in the other room. she goes silent again. her words have to be carefully measured.
she gulps,
“uhm…i just—i just wanted to know how you were. heard you’re based in new york now...so…” wanda trails off. you don’t miss the tone in her voice as she says those words. the familiar rasp, the lowness of her voice, she’d used it many times on you when she wanted something.
you close your eyes with a sigh, “yeah. yeah, i live in new york now, engaged and everything.”
wanda smiles through the phone, her eyes almost prick with tears at the corners.
“i saw," she says just above a whisper. "congratulations, you…you’ve always wanted that.” and she means it. she knows better than anyone how much you’ve wanted this.
suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits you, and you’re brought back to when you were both in college. so young, so dumb, but god, it was one of the best times of your life. you try not to let it affect you, how much this call seems to be doing for you. you haven’t yet figured out if it’s a good or bad thing.
“thank you." your voice softens. "how have you been?” you find yourself asking her next.
wanda smiles at your question, “life has been…insane, you know?” she pauses on the line. “still missing some pieces, but overall i’m doing well,” you pretend not to hear the sudden shift in her voice when she said that.
you exhaled quietly, unsure of what to say. the air between you felt charged with unspoken words, old memories stirring to the surface.
“can i see you?” she asks, her tone hesitant. “catch up in person? i’d really like to see you.”
with your bottom lip between your teeth, you contemplate your next words. paul notices your tick from the other his seat on the couch, despite you telling him it was okay he couldn’t help but worry. he’d heard enough of the call to know something was wrong. still he knows you had it down, so he waits until you need him.
you struggle to find your words for a moment, the question being so…why?
“oh, wanda, i don’t know if—”
but wanda ever the stubborn woman she is, doesn’t relent.
“please. Just for some coffee and conversation.”
your mind is torn between keeping your peace or taking wanda up on her offer. but you were curious.
with a sigh you finally decide.
“where and when?”
you can hear wanda’s smile through the phone,
“i can fly to new york anytime you’re free. you can pick a spot and i’ll be there.”
you think for a few moments.
“okay, meet at caffe reggio in greenwich. i’ll be in touch with when.”
wanda’s heart stutters, something she hadn’t felt in a while. her eyes flutter closed, she breathes in— out. her eyes open again. and though you can’t see it, there’s a new look in her eyes.
“i’ll be there.”
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