#when the friendship is already THIS close

[mv1simp]

requested: max + best friend + somnophilia + cum marking

Unforgettable ♥️

Max Verstappen x Best Friend!Reader

if you loved the girl then I’m so so sorry (i got to give it to her like we in a marriage)

You and Max grew up as childhood best friends, secretly enamoured with each other but prohibited to openly date by both your strict fathers. But as adults, there’s nothing to stop the naughty desires you two have for each other finally leading to pleasure activities. You just had no idea how naughty your Max’s desires for you had become as of late…

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom! Dark max, sub! Innocent reader, size kink, brief mentions of some teen max x reader being kinky, but mostly as adults, HEAVY on the somno!!, cum play/cum marking, WC 4.2k

You’ve known Max Verstappen your whole life. First as his childhood best friend, meeting through your fathers who both had a keen interest in racing. The young Max immediately became enamoured with how cute you looked grasping onto his sleeve to loyally follow him everywhere. He welcomed your constant support and cheering, a comfort to the cold discipline his own father gave him daily. You were the one source of happiness and positivity for him, with your sunshine smile and blushing cheeks as you oohed and ahhed at his track performance.

Your friendship continued easily through your teens, and then into adulthood, with you naturally moving to Monaco at his invitation. Just like you’d always done - with Max leading, and you obediently following. Of course, for a boy and a girl to be as close friends as the two of you were led to more than a few eyebrows being raised and curious questions asked, especially when Max’s career skyrocketed and he became one of the most famous athletes worldwide. But you both swear multiple times to your family, friends and the media - nothing of the romantic sort happened between the two of you, it was all completely platonic, just a healthy friendship. And that was the truth, because Max’s father had forbidden him from getting entangled with the little girl following him around as he had a racing career to focus on, and after that countless models to date - much more fitting for an F1 driver than some shy, girl next door type. And your strict, conservative father had raised you traditionally, sending you to an all girl’s high school and banning any boyfriends or dates of any sort. Max was in fact the only boy you were allowed to speak to, given how close your fathers were. But you weren’t to think about any boys until it was time to get married, your father had told you sternly. There’s too many bad men that would hurt my baby girl, he added with a ruffle of your dark curls.

Your father would have had a heart attack if he’d known that the teenage Max had already begun sneaking into your bedroom window nightly once you’d been sent to a different school than him. You’d found it so sweet that he misses you so much, saying that it wasn’t enough time to just see you on the weekends. Soon enough he’d end up falling asleep in your bed after you spent hours talking and reading racing magazines together, just like the sleepovers you two would occasionally have as toddlers when the adults had too much to drink.

You loved that Max would always be there for you, especially when you started having a hard time at your new school with a group of mean older girls. Max’s normally soft blue eyes had narrowed as you sadly mentioned how they’d made fun of you. He wiped the tears away at the corner of your eyes and assured you he’d help take care of it. You weren’t sure exactly what he’d done the next day when the group of girls all avoided eye contact and apologised to you publically, telling you they didn’t realise you were the girlfriend of Max Verstappen - who by now, was a international karting champion and set to join the junior Redbull team at only 16.

You’d blushed, trying to dismiss their belief of you being Max’s girlfriend that had started to become a frequent rumour these days. While it was true you’d always had a crush on the handsome blonde Dutchman, he’d never once shown you that he reciprocated your feelings, always just being a good friend to you. Like that evening when he jumped through your windowsill with familiar movements, waving off your grateful thanks and telling you it’s what best friends did for each other. Besides, you’re so tiny and cute, just like a bunny, it’s my job to look after you if I’m called the lion! He declared, alluding to your individual favourite childhood animals. Later, he curiously asked what the girls had actually teased you about, saying he’d forgotten to ask because he had been too angry with them. You blush a little, because you’re not sure if it’s too embarrassing to tell him as it’s a girl thing, Maxie…

He encourages you to tell him, insisting there were no secrets between the two of you, who’d practically known each other since birth. You couldn’t argue with that, and shyly tell him that it was because the older girls had seen you changing for sports class last week and had said you must have gotten a good surgeon with boobs like that. I-I don’t know what they mean, Maxie, you said with an anxious bite of your lip. Do they look weird?

Oh, Max had said, caught off guard, pretty blue eyes suddenly wide as they automatically drifted down to your clothed chest. Even through the pink camisole you’re wearing to bed, it’s hard to miss the way your new assets stretched the thin material to its limits. I’m sure they look nice, bunny. But I - his cheeks go pink - I can look at them properly if you want?

Your brown doe eyes go starry eyed and you nod happily at his offer. Will you, Maxie? Thank you so much! It’s so kind of you. Beaming up at your friend, you thank him again for his thoughtful offer as you lift the singlet above your breasts. You don’t really have any other friends to show them too, because you spend all your spare time with the Dutch boy, and your mother is also too strict like your father to talk about your teenage troubles with. You’d be lost without Max!

The blonde teen in question swallows as he intently looks at your bare chest, now exposed for him. The night breeze stiffens your nipples, making them stick out against your caramel skin. They’re very pretty, schatje, he finally says, his voice sounding a strange and deeper than normal, after he stares at them so long you start to get worried that there had been something wrong, after all. You tell him this, to which he reassures you soothingly, but you’re still on edge. What if my future boyfriend doesn’t like them, Maxie? Your best friend’s eyes darken suddenly at the mention of some other boy seeing your body in a way only he had been allowed to so far. You're a little taken aback at the unfamiliar, cold expression on his normally warm face, but then you blink and he's back to his blushing self, eagerly showering you with his reassurances because he never wants you to doubt how perfect he thinks you are.

So that’s why, now as adults living in his Monaco penthouse, Max makes it his personal mission to make sure you know how beautiful you are. Your conservative parents have no idea that you live together, of course - they still think you live in the quaint 1 bedroom apartment a few minutes away from your university campus. But your modest apartment had mysteriously been shut down by the Housing Council of Monaco, who’d told you there had been a termite infestation and you were indefinitely out of a place to live. You’d been puzzled why your apartment was the only one on your floor that seemed to be affected by something so contagious - but when Max generously offered to ease all your financial troubles and let you crash in his guest bedroom, you gratefully accepted. You’d never told your strict parents about the move, of course, since it was only meant to be temporary and they’d kick up a fuss over nothing.

You were so thankful to your best friend, and made sure to always clean up around the house and bake his favourite treats to repay him in some way. Max’s favourite way to destress after a long day is to cuddle against you on the sofa, burying his face in your pillowy, soft chest as you giggle and run a comforting hand through his blonde locks. He complains about drama with his team and car this season, husky voice muffled against your clothed breasts. The low vibrations would make you involuntarily shiver and he’d always know when you were wearing a bra, because he wouldn’t be able to see your tempting nipples through your top. Schatje, he’d say sternly with a disapproving glare, yanking your pastel cardigan up and revealing a cute, lacy bralette. We talked about this, it restricts your circulation, it’s not healthy to wear a bra at home too, hmm? You apologise sweetly, pouting and telling him that you were sorry, it was just you’d had to wear one for your university tutorial earlier and sometimes your back really starts hurting if your bra isn’t supporting the weight of your chest…

Hmm, let’s see how we can fix that, okay bunny? He lifts you to sit in his lap, your back to his toned abs, and your underwear coming into direct contact with his jeans underneath your miniskirt. Sliding his large, strong hands over your smaller waist, he makes you gasp as he unclasps your bra and starts gently squeezing your bare breasts. The soft flesh fills his palms, and you shyly ask him what he was doing, he didn't have to trouble himself helping you. When he shushes you, reassuring you that he was just massaging the tension and pain out of your tits, see, doesn’t that feel good schat? You find yourself nodding, leaning back against his broad chest because and biting your lip because it did feel amazing. You didn’t know that being touched there would make you feel dirty things someplace else, like in the place between your legs that begins to feel warm and tingly. Especially when Max would roll your nipples in between his large fingers, or when he’d press his tongue in between your bare tits and lick at your caramel skin. You couldn’t resist arching your back into his talented mouth when he latched onto your areolas, unable to control the breathless moans that escaped. You were seriously so lucky to have a friend who took your comfort and health so seriously!

Of course, you were clueless that Max had taken the boundaries well beyond what would be considered acceptable for any other friendship. You still barely had any friends outside of Max - especially since your friendship with him kept you so busy, flying around the world with him constantly. But everything you two did felt so natural, like a progression of how you’d looked after each other other as kids, that you never felt weird or uncomfortable. You only ever felt good with Maxie. That was also why you’d always call him first when you were on a night out and had gotten a bit too tipsy - you didn’t trust anyone else to look after you. Max had warned you, just like your father had, about all the bad men who were out and would hurt you. He very rarely let you go out without him for this very reason.

But when you would, for a girlfriend’s birthday dinner or the other, he’d be the one to drive you home and carry you up to the apartment. He’d smirk at your drunk antics, where you’d whine it was too damn hot and start sloppily tearing off your cute, sweetheart minidresses. He loved when you got like this, obediently crawling into bed with him in scraps of lace, when normally sober you put up a fuss that only a couple slept like that, it was wrong, his girlfriend wouldn’t like this! Pulling your pliant form into his warm chest, he’s pressing kisses to your forehead before sliding his tongue into your open, pink mouth. You kiss him back passionately, breathlessly chanting his name, contently lost in how nice his lips feel. You loved the familiar feeling of Max’s arms around you, always making you feel safe and protected. And when his large, strong palms run up and down your sensitive body, sending electric shivers running when his bare skin touches yours, you can’t help but moan sweetly into his mouth. Mmmhh, feels good, Maxie you slur, eyes fluttering shut and thick ass grinding back against his clothed bulge, before you fall asleep from his slow, rhythmic movements as he explores your tired body.

Secretly, not that you’d ever admit it, you knew there was something a little naughty with the way he touched you. You’d watched enviously through cracked doors when he’d touched his girlfriends in the same way, hating when his attention was on some other girl and not on you. But you could never ask him sober to take care of you like that, not when you were sure he thought of you like a friend. So you frequently started to get a bit too tipsy out on a night out, knowing it was much easier to cross the line of friendship into something more when you could blame it all on the tequila. And your Maxie would never turn down a chance to reciprocate your touchiness - his love language was physical touch, after all!

You had no idea that after you'd fall asleep, your precious Maxie’s fun really began, every night that he managed to bring you into his Californian King. If you hadn’t been so naive you would know it was far from normal for a guy friend to climb into bed with his drunk girl friend, who was wearing nothing but some white lacy lingerie underneath her clubbing dress that's abandoned on the floor. Lingerie which he now pulls to the side as he squeezes your juicy tits and lightly fingers the entrance of your pussy. His dark, hungry gaze rake over your tempting form, taking in your curves that have now filled out. He lazily jerks himself off to the pretty little thing passed out in his bed, peppering kisses to your chubby cheeks, your delicate neck, and to your plush breasts which bounce with each sleepy breath you take.

And once your breaths turn heavy and slow when deep sleep claims you, there’s nothing stopping him from slipping his angry, leaking cockhead out and sliding it along your puffy folds. You unknowingly drip your wetness all over his shaft as he groans into your ear, his breath warm as he pants desperately above your peacefully sleeping face. Sometimes he can’t resist and slips just the tip into your tight little hole, the one you still thought was untouched by anyone.

You’d probably die if you knew the truth - that your cunt had in fact been abused many times by your best friend. Max regularly enjoyed teasing your puffy slit with his fingers, his tongue and of course his cockhead- all while you lay blissfully sleeping next to him. He’d take any chance he could, no matter how risky. One time you’d passed out on Max’s lap aboard his private jet, exhausted from the day at a boiling hot Qatar race. He’d stroked your curls lovingly, murmuring sweet nothings to you until you were in a deep sleep on his thick muscular thighs, even drooling a little onto his jeans. All he’d had to do was dim the cabin lights and half cover your face with a blanket under the guise of not disturbing you if anyone walked past.

Nobody would have been able to guess that underneath the privacy of the blanket, Max Verstappen was slowly sliding his aching, fat cock into your wet mouth. You’d instinctively started suckling on it like a lollipop, making him chuckle at what a natural slut you were for him. Grabbing a hold of your curls, he’d easily manoeuvred your soft, pliant lips up and down his shaft, enjoying the drool you left all over his warm length. Breathing heavier, his movements quickened and his thrusts became shallower until he finally goes still, tensing in your mouth and spurting ribbons of his cream down your throat. You’d slept straight through the dinner service, after all. Afterwards, you’d woken up with sticky lips and an unfamiliar taste on your tongue, dazedly blinking up at Max who was playing on his phone above your sleeping figure on his lap. Good nap, schatje? he croons adoringly at you, brushing your hair lovingly when he sees you’d awakened. You’d nodded happily, feeling content and secure in his hold.

Lately, sneaking around while you were asleep hadn’t been enough for the world champion. He wanted you all to himself, all the time. His new tactic involved making sure you knew that his latest girlfriend - or his model "pump and dump of the month" as his guy friends joked - had broken up with him. All because she’d heard you had climbed into bed with him naked, tipsy after a night out, Max would declare to your with a dramatic sigh. Or she’d found your lacy underwear mixed in with Max’s laundry, and had accused him of cheating before storming out. He wondered what his exes would have done if they found out the lacy things he’d had lying around were actually due to his dirty habit as a teen of stealing your underwear to sniff and guiltily keep in his stash. It was a twisted desire he hadn’t grown out of as an adult, instead just finding your new panties sexier and enjoying ruining them with his cum now. Some nights, when he was feeling particularly possessive of you, he’d pull one lacy side up to slide his length underneath, now rubbing his drooling cockhead against the juicy swell of your ass. One night he’d even just slipped your panties all the way off, jerked off slowly to them as his other hand explored your pliant body greedily, making you gasp breathlessly when he buried his face in between your jiggling tits and gently bit your cute nipples. After cumming a thick load into the pink lacey fabric, he then slid the ruined panties back over your curvy ass. You’d remained completely clueless to your best friend’s filthy nighttime acts in your bed, blissfully dreaming.

So after telling you that you must have left your panties in his bed the last time you passed out there drunk, and made his girlfriend angry, Max would sigh, rubbing his head and making sure to out on a grand show of looking tired and weary as he fed you some new lie about how you were the reason his girlfriends had called it quits.

You’d anxiously comfort him, your doe eyes worried as you studied his tense figure. Just like he’d hoped, you couldn’t resist offering to help him in any way he needed - including taking over any bedroom activities his girlfriends had been performing for him, if he wanted. You weren’t very good, because you still had never had a boyfriend…but you promised to try your best to do it just how Max liked it. After all, that’s what good friends were for, right?

So that’s why you obediently wake him up every morning with your lips on his heavy morning wood. All of his girlfriends woke him up like this, Max insisted, otherwise his balls would be too full for him to go to driving practise comfortably. And since he loved to sleep in late ever day, you had no choice but to miss your morning lectures. Instead of getting the college education you’d promised your parents, you’re worshipping your best friend’s large cock with eager strokes of your hand and wet licks of your tongue, following his instructions. You hadn’t liked going near the base, to his heavy balls at the start, finding them uncomfortable to fit in your small mouth. Max had noticed your dislike for then very quickly and soon kept a strong grip on your curls, pressing your thick lips into his morning wood to make sure you blew him just how he wanted it.

After your daily breakfast of Max’s thick cream down your throat, you two would shower together, just like he liked doing with all his ex girlfriends. This part you did know about, having come home early one day and overhearing Max fucking his latest up against the shower wall. You’d never imagine that one day you’d be getting to replace her, gasping out ah ah ahs! as Max rubbed his drooling, angry cockhead against your slick folds. You bite your lip as you dirtily fantasise about your tall, muscular best friend behind you forcing his way into your cunny. Just a little bit, of course, maybe just the tip, you dreamily thought.

Max had always been good at knowing what you wanted without you asking, given how long he'd known you. So he gives you exactly what you'd been naughtily thinking about, "accidentally" sliding his impossibly hard head into your dripping folds when he reached forward to adjust the already perfect water temperature. You squeal in shock, quickly trying to turn around and see what he was doing, but you're no match for his strength. Max's strong hands pin your thick hips in place as his much taller frame presses into you from behind, his lips brushing your ear to whisper dirty things and making your brain go foggy. Hearing your beloved Maxie huskily groan that your ass felt amazing, like it was built to take my cock, bunny made your heart beat rapidly in excitement. You didn't even notice that he'd bullied a good third of his massive erection into your clenching pussy, or when he came with a desperate groan, his face buried in your neck from behind. The warm shower water mixed with his creamy release and leaving you none the wiser about what he'd just pumped inside your virgin hole.

And little, naive you had no idea just how many times your possessive best friend had exposed your defenceless body to his thick cream. The twisted idea of training your holes to always welcome his, and only his cum, filled Max’s head with dark pleasure. He wanted to leave you begging and desperate for his release, even though you would have no idea just how or why you’d ended up developing such a craving for it. That was why he always made sure to touch and play with your over sensitive body, especially your cute, swollen clit and pretty nipples. Both because he loved feeling you up like you belonged to him, and because when he’d inevitably spurt his cum through your drooling, open mouth as you softly snore against his pillows. Your sleepy brain began to subconsciously associate the unfamiliar taste with delicious, tingly pleasure.

And if you’d make him mad when you spent too long talking to one of the other guys in his garage, instead of diligently at his side, he took his training of you to the next level. That meant cumming all over a batch of freshly baked and frosted white chocolate and rasberry cupcakes - your favourite! You always clapped your manicured hands in excitement when Max would pick up a box for you. They taste so good, you moaned as you eagerly dug into a second one, licking the white sticky frosting messily off your fingers. Even better than I remember!

The blonde Dutchman who’s eyeing you with a pleased smirk couldn’t stop the growing desire in his belly at the sight of you taking so much pleasure at eating his cum. So once he started this dirty habit of feeding you his release, he didn’t stop there - he was never one for half measures. He’d only have to close his eyes and picture your sleeping body, thin camisole mentally pulled up by his wandering hands to reveal your large tits. It’s a sight he’s been getting to enjoy almost nightly now, but it hasn’t stopped getting any less tempting. He easily spurts a generous load in a container of your favourite flavours of creamy vanilla ice cream. Slipping the box back into the freezer, he smirks to himself at the thought of getting to enjoy the sight of you licking it up off a spoon after dinner.

You've always had a major sweet tooth, and now that Max has started mixing his cum into your beloved desserts and sugary treats, you begin to associate his heady taste even more with raw desire. You start getting the same pleasurable high from deepthroating him as you do sucking on a strawberry lollipop. And your best friend just can't get enough of how addicted you've become to having his intoxicating, thick cum flood your mouth. So much so that you’re eager to fall to your knees to greet Max when you come home from class, obediently sucking his impressive cock as you show off your topless figure. And when you can tell he’s close, from how his handsome face is all flushed and he’s biting his pretty lips and murmuring fuck, schatje, it’s so fucking good, just like that-

You open your glossy lips wide, pink tongue poking out and brown doe eyes batting up at the huge cock in front of you adoringly. The sight of you so innocent yet desperate for him never fails to make Max cum, and with a few rapid pumps he finishes with a groan. His drooling, swollen cockhead is aimed right at your eagerly awaiting mouth, and soon his excessive load covers your tongue and drools past the corner of your lips as you struggle to contain it all in your small mouth. Splatters of white semen land on your chubby cheeks and drip down to your plush, caramel tits as well.

Just the taste of it has your eyes rolling and breath hitching, the months of subconscious training having done the job of making you addicted to Max’s cock very well. You swallow it all like the good girl you are, not letting any of his cum go to waste. And when you drop your mouth open again invitingly, shyly saying look Maxie, I drank it all as you display your now clean tongue - well, how is he meant to resist stuffing your tight little cunt next?

—————————————————————————

A/N: CANNOT BELIEVE OUR MANS WON BRAZIL WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT FOR THE LATINA FANS ya’ll manifested the FUCK out of this. I have heard you all with your celebration sex requests and I am HERE for it stay tuned!!! 🧙‍♀️🧙‍♀️

[waffle-runian]

Not to diverge much, or to hijack the conversation, but I'm gonna write about "translating art" a bit. I hope that it makes sense.

So, this feels like when I first started reading fantasy. Writing is a form of art that I love very much, so I remember a lot about my first impressions and all. I specifically remember reading a book about magic, the first book I bought because I wanted to read and nothing else. It was in a world where magic would be a focal point, get described with care and detail. Then idk, a popular book series about a demigod teenager that could control water, and what do you know? The water was described in full, the friendship, different dialogues, puns, the color of the eyes.

Then I read another series, this one about a boy with a dream and with a reality that made it difficult for him to pursue it, of course, the description of his sadness was longer too, his physical attributes were important, and they got a lot of attention, but not all the time either, and not really that in depth. What got the most attention were the comparisons, where he came short, and where coming short of something was being ahead on other things.

I remember reading a book following the story of a bard. It was art about art itself, in my opinion. Everything was described vividly. Stunning visuals, I could almost hear a song that doesn't even have a melody, I could grasp the process of creation without creating. It was something I was very bad at, after all. The author could make anything look beautiful and magical, even when it was the most ordinary of things.

Then came the magic. Well, part of it. It was logic, almost physics-like, followed hard rules, and you guessed it, the process of creation through it was also interesting. But then came the magic. Again. The magic that was hinted at, the soft kind, the magical kind, the one you have been preparing for up until now. The one that would require you to appreciate the art in order to understand, to appreciate everything as an artist. To see beyond what it is, what it is made of, what it looks like. To see inside, to see what it can be, what it represents and what it wants. In a way, to see it for what it _is_ (a different "is").

From top to bottom

Mage - Raymond E. Feist.

Percy Jackson - Rick Riordan

Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan

The name of the Wind - Patrick Rothfuss.

Rothfuss' writing isn't for everyone in a different way than the others. I don't know if I could explain it if I tried, but honestly? I feel great that it's something fewer people appreciate. This is, obviously, my take on those books. The actual intent behind it may differ strongly, but I don't think it matters, since art is something normally made to provoke thought and feelings. We hope the audience can get close to what we meant to say, but when they don't, we are happy that they got to experience something positive from our words/drawings/songs, etc.

I see his as the most complex out of these, the one that resonated the most with me, I guess? Probably because of the main character being the most relatable. And if just the eyes that tell the story can change so much about it, shouldn't we put much more thought into what our art could look like for people that can't "see" it the same as us? Like I already said, most of the time, your meaning will be lost, so, if you're "translating" art, how can you get close to this new audience's heart?

I mean, translating is all about that too. You can't just use the best words you think of and be done. Brazilian dubbing is famous for making jokes almost never fall flat.

If you localize the joke, you get a better reaction than when you explain the joke that only works in the original language (even though I am the kind of person that learns a language to appreciate the original material instead, and that's the reason I speak english.)

Anyway, if I got something wrong, just correct me, and if I don't get it, I'll ask.

"In recent years, there has been a rush on the internet to supply image descriptions and to call out those who don’t. This may be an example of community accountability at work, but it’s striking to observe that those doing the most fierce calling out or correcting are sighted people. Such efforts are largely self-defeating. I cannot count the times I’ve stopped reading a video transcript because it started with a dense word picture. Even if a description is short and well done, I often wish there were no description at all. Get to the point, already! How ironic that striving after access can actually create a barrier. When I pointed this out during one of my seminars, a participant made us all laugh by doing a parody: “Mary is wearing a green, blue, and red striped shirt; every fourth stripe also has a purple dot the size of a pea in it, and there are forty-seven stripes—”

“You’re killing me,” I said. “I can’t take any more of that!”

Now serious, she said it was clear to her that none of that stuff about Mary’s clothes mattered, at least if her clothes weren’t the point. What mattered most about the image was that Mary was holding her diploma and smiling. “But,” she wondered, “do I say, Mary has a huge smile on her face as she shows her diploma or Mary has an exuberant smile or showing her teeth in a smile and her eyes are crinkled at the edges?”

It’s simple. Mary has a huge smile on her face is the best one. It’s the don’t-second-guess-yourself option."

--Against Access, by John Lee Clark, a DeafBlind educator

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨All Dolled Up✨

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: After months of hard work, Lucifer finally gifted you a welcome present after joining the hotel! In return, you decide to make something of your own just for him! Your gift, however, turns out to be even more special than you intended...

This is a surprise story for my friend @rosen-und-mondlicht who gave me this very creative and fun idea for a story! Love you boo <3

Huge thanks to @canihaveacandycane and @citrusbatsandhoneybees for the help on this one!

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, p in v

Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! We're so happy to have you stay with us! We hope your time here is an enjoyable one!

-Hotel Staff

P.S. Hey there! I'm sorry this took so long to give you, I just had to make it perfect! I hope you like it!

-Lucifer

It was custom for every new resident to receive a welcome letter. Even though you've already been at the hotel for 6 months now, it was still appreciated. You walked into your room and found your very late letter sitting next to a small white box complete with a red bow resting at the foot of your bed. The gift was unexpected; however, you hadn't heard of anyone else receiving one. Once you read the card, you figured you knew the reason for its delay. Lucifer, always the perfectionist, must have stalled the whole operation.

You hadn't expected to become so close to the King of Hell himself. You were weary of him at first, I mean, who wouldn't be? Everyone knew about the fallen angel. But after a while, you started to warm up to him. It was easy to see that he was nothing like you imagined or had been told about while you were alive. He was a kind soul, a dreamer who loved his daughter dearly, and someone who was very, very lonely. You learned about his previous wife Lilith and how she had left several years ago never and hadn't been heard from since. You could tell this deeply affected Lucifer even though he did his best to hide it through his jovial persona. You two grew pretty close, he found you incredibly easy to talk to, as if he had known you his whole life. You enjoyed your time together and you found joy in listening to whatever he chose to ramble on about that day be it his latest project or reminiscing about his daughter Charlie when she was younger. You'd never admit it, but you had developed somewhat of a crush on the king. But who were you to get involved with the ruler of Hell? It wasn't your place as a mere sinner and you dared not ruin the friendship you had built with him, odd as it may be.

Curiously, you picked up the box and casually began to unwrap it. you lifted the lid to find a cute little rubber duck that resembled you! All the little details down to your hair, your eye color, and somehow it managed to capture your smile in its little orange beak. You loved it, no wonder to took him so long to complete; every detail was perfect. It was such a thoughtful gift, and you felt the burning need to return the favor! Who knows the last time Lucifer had been given a gift. Why couldn't it be from you?

You noticed something else in the box too and lifted it up gently. It was a beautiful white and red feather. You knew it must have been his, but did he mean to give this to you as well? Knowing him, he must have worked frantically to get this gift finished. A few must have fallen off during the packing process; you knew how stressed the man could get. But the feather gave you an idea. You couldn't make rubber ducks like him, that was his specialty. But you did, however, know how to make little felt dolls! You were very crafty during your life and you figured you might as well use the skills you have to do something good.

You spent most of the night sewing and stitching everything together, ignoring the many warning signs your body gave you in order to try and get you to sleep. You were stubborn, however. Once you started a project, it was almost impossible for you stop until it was complete. It was nearly dawn by the time you finally finished the little doll. Well, almost finished! Everything was perfect, from the little snake that wrapped around his little hat to the tiny golden buttons on his jacket. There was only one things left to do! You grabbed the feather that you had found your box and delicately placed it inside of the small slit you had left open on the side of the doll. You thought the feather could represent a heart, something meaningful to give the doll and make it different from anything else.

Finally, you stitched the last gap closed, cutting the strong with your teeth to finally complete your gift. You stared at the doll for a moment to admire your work. And you were happy. But something weird happened. Just then, a small flash of golden light emanated from the doll but disappeared as quickly as it came. You set it down and rubbed your eyes. You looked over the doll again for another minute, but the flash of light never returned. You chalked it up to being a trick of the light. And considering the fact that you were sleep deprived, you wouldn't put it past your brain to start pulling tricks on you. You shrugged it off, taking the doll with you to bed. You drifted off to sleep easily, your eyes growing heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow. You clutched the doll close to your chest, giving it a small peck on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Lucifer," you whispered to it before letting your body fall unconscious.

****

You woke up with a start to the sound of your alarm blaring. It was 8:00 a.m. Not nearly enough sleep. You realized you hadn't moved all night; your body must have been too exhausted to toss and turn. You found yourself still holding the doll and smiled to yourself. You were still exhausted, but you knew Charlie would be sad if you missed breakfast, so with all of your remaining strength, you pulled yourself out of bed and begrudgingly began to get ready for the day. You decided you use a small tan paper you had from one of your shopping trips bag to hold the doll, thanking yourself for not just tossing it away like you normally would have.

You made your way to the kitchen knowing Charlie would be preparing breakfast for everyone. But to your surprise, when you entered through the kitchen door, it was not the princess you found at the stove, but her father. You heard him whistling a song you never heard before, a perfect melody. Your heart began to race as you walked a little bit closer to him, the smell of pancakes filling your senses.

"I can hear you, you know," Lucifer called out playfully as he flipped a pancake in the air. You couldn't help but giggle.

"Well, I'm glad," you retorted, now standing beside him. "I didn't really want to be scaring you when you’re working over a hot stove like that."

He gave you a small smirk without looking away from what he was doing. "Oh yeah, that truly would be terrible, wouldn't it?" he laughed. You knew he was more or less invincible, being an angel and all. Still, you didn't want to distract him.

"I thought Charlie was usually the one to prepare breakfast," you commented.

"Oh, she is!" Lucifer smiled. "But I told her I would handle the meals today. My little girl works so hard around here, you know? I thought it would be nice to take something of her plate...so to speak." He chuckled at his own joke as he laid the freshly made stack of pancakes on the neatly assembled row of plates.

"Do you need any help?" you asked, setting down the brown paper bag behind the kitchen island out of his view.

"Sure!" He turned around and pointed to the condiments he had laid out. "Could you hand me the syrup and the whipped cream over there?" You did as he asked and brought him the items. Lucifer began to smother the fluffy cakes in syrup and drawing little ducks with the whipped cream to top them all off. When he was finished, you and him delivered breakfast to the hotel residents. You came back to the kitchen to notice there were two plates of pancakes left.

"Oh, we forgot some," you commented. "Who did we forget?"

Lucifer only smiled. "Those are for us, silly! You have to eat too, don't you?"

In your effort to help, you completely forgot that you hadn't eaten. He handed you your plate and fork and you two stood there eating his delicious creation as you leaned against the countertop.

"These are amazing!" you tried to say with your mouth still half full.

Lucifer swallowed his last bite and gave you a toothy grin. "Why thank you! I'll be honest, I haven't cooked in a long time. I was afraid I had forgot how. But if you like them, then I know I succeeded!"

You set your finished plate down and crossed your arms. Lucifer seemed to be in more high spirits than usual. You liked seeing him like this; just happy. "If you don't mind me saying, Lucifer, your mood seems...different. N-Not in a bad way! Just...more full of energy."

He followed your motion and set his plate down behind him. "You think so?"

"Yeah," you continued. "It's nice to see. I like a happy Lucifer."

He smiled at you and left out a soft sigh. "Can I tell you something?" You tilted your head in confusion but nodded. "This is gonna sound a little weird, maybe a little bit crazy, but just hear me out, okay?"

"Of course! I never think you're crazy," you smiled. His hand found the back of his neck; he looked as though he was nervous about whatever he was about to tell you. Your heart started racing again.

"Last night, when I was sleeping...in the middle of the night, I felt something...I don't know how to say this...constricting me?" You furrowed your brow, not understanding what he was trying to say. "Maybe that's not the right word. Let's say...holding me. That sounds better."

"Holding you?" you questioned, "I'm not sure I get it."

"Okay uhh, let me think..." he placed his hand under his chin. "It almost felt like...cuddling?"

"So...someone was cuddling you last night?" you spoke in a hushed tone. You feared the worst when you heard him say those words. Lucifer noticed your change in demeanor and quickly back peddled.

"No, no, that's the thing! I was alone last night!" he reassured you. "I always sleep alone, ever since..." he shook his head as to move on and forget it. But you knew what he was going to say. "It was the strangest damn thing, in the middle of the night no less! And there was a voice that..."

Your brain refused to acknowledge Lucifer's last few words and were more focused on the fact that he was indeed alone last night. "That...certainly is odd. What could..."

Oh no...

Your eyes went wide with fear, your whole body froze, you couldn't bring yourself to finish your thought.

The doll.

The doll you made for him. You went to bed with it last night. You held it in your arms. You kissed it goodnight!

Oh no, oh no, oh no!

"Is everything alright?" Lucifer snapped you back to reality. "You look paler than me!"

You swallowed hard trying to muster up any sort of response. "Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'm totally fine! I just...I realized I promised I would help Angel with something this morning and I completely forgot! So, I'll see you later!"

You didn't give Lucifer a chance to respond as you ran out the door and grabbed the bag you had hidden from view. You didn't let up until you reached your room and slammed the door behind you. You set the bag down carefully onto your bed and gingerly removed the doll from it, using only your nails to hoist it out. You let it lay in your hand as you stared at it with panicked eyes.

"What the hell did I do?!" you asked yourself in a berating tone. "It's just a doll, it shouldn't have - hold on..." A sudden memory came flooding back to you. You called the doll emitting a strange light the night before as soon as you finished sewing the remaining stitches. Last night, you thought it was just the trick of the light; it was late and you were beyond exhausted. But that didn't explain why Lucifer was able to feel you holding him last night. The last thing you did was add "...the feather!"

That must be it! His feather must have caused the connection. Lucifer was an angel after all, a magical being of pure light. Surely anything that was a part of him would carry those same properties. You had to get rid of it! But how? You didn't know the extent of what this doll could feel. Surely stabbing it with a knife would cause him some pain...you think. Given Lucifer was more or less indestructible,  you still didn't really want to test that theory.

So, you stood there with the doll limp in your hand unsure of what to do with it next.

You couldn't bring yourself to destroy it, you put so much work into it and it would kill you to get rid of something that was meant to be an innocent gift. The best option would be to hide it, leave somewhere no one would find it and forget that it even exists. But then, the thought of Lucifer's smile crosses your mind. He was so happy this morning, happier than you've ever seen him. And it was because of you. Not that you would every dream of telling him that. But maybe...maybe it would be alright if you kept it. If you held it close to you at night. Perhaps it wasn't the most moral decision, but hey, you're in Hell, morality is not a common practice here. You brought that doll to your chest and held it tight. "I'm sorry..." you murmured to it, "If I can't tell you how I really feel, maybe this is the next best thing."

For the next several nights, you went to bed with the held tightly. And for the next several days, you couldn't bring yourself to face Lucifer. Anytime you heard him approaching or his voice getting closer, you ran the other direction. But not far enough to completely miss him. While you hid from his view, he had that same jovial expression since the day you made breakfast together. It warned your heart to know that what you were doing had a positive effect on him, even though you couldn't shake the guilt that came with that either. Sometimes he would catch you by surprise and spot you from across the hall. Lucifer would call out to you but you made it a point to get out of there as fast as possible. Strangely enough, he never sought you out after you ran, but you thought that was for the best.

One night before you went to bed, you sat up on your mattress staring at your creation resting in your palms.

"I'm a coward," you told yourself. "I should just tell him the truth. Why am I even doing this? I want him to be happy, but this isn't right. I shouldn't have put the feather in there, I should have just thrown this in my closet and not given it a second thought. But no! Now I'm avoiding him like a frightened cat because I don't have the guts to tell him..." You sighed. "One more night. Just one more. And then I'm done. I'll never think about this again." You turned off your lamp and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

****

You cracked your eyes open the next morning, the light of the red sky filling your room. You sat up and rubbed your eyes before feeling around for your doll. You couldn't find it. Your opened your eyes wider. The doll wasn't there. You leaped from the bed and quickly began turning over your covers and throwing the pillows onto the floor. Nothing. You dropped to the ground and peered under your bed to a shocking sight. You gasped.

Keekee somehow found her way into your room. And what was in her mouth other than your little Lucifer doll.

"Keekee," you called to her. "I'm gonna need that back, sweetie! That's not a toy!" Your hand reached out slowly, trying not to spook the little cat. Her tail whipped back and forth as she raised her hind legs. "Nooooooo, don't you dare Keekee, I swear I'll..." but before you could finish your threat, she bolted from under your bed and ran straight out of your room. "Damn it!"

You didn't have time to change and in that moment you didn't care. You flung the door wide open and watched Keekee turn the corner, the doll still in her tiny mouth. "Keekee, get back here!" you yelled down to her as quietly as you could. You didn't know what time it was but it was too early to be cursing at a cat. She scurried away into another hall, forcing you to chase after her. You never lost sight of her, which you thought was a little odd. Normally Keekee could disappear if she really wanted to, but at no point did she ever make an attempt to avoid you completely. It was almost like she wanted you to follow her.

After several crazy turns, you saw her duck into and open door in one of the hallways. You figured it must be a closet. She was finally trapped. You hurried over to the dark room and pushed the door shut so the cat couldn't escape easily. But now you couldn't see.

"Keekee, come here girl," you cooed. "I promise I'm not mad, I just want the doll back." You found it a little ridiculous that you were trying to barter with a cat, but it was early in the morning and your hadn't fully woken up yet. "This isn't funny anymore, you know. Please, Keekee, I need that back!"

"And why would that be?" a low voice boomed in the dark. You shrieked as the lights flashed on. After blinking a few times trying to get your eye to readjust, you realized where you ended up.

Lucifer's workshop...with Lucifer sitting at his desk, Keekee snuggled in his lap.

Shit.

The first thing you could process was that you were still in your nightgown. Instinctively, you threw your hands over your chest in shock and embarrassment.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!" Lucifer apologized, quickly covering his eyes with his forearm. "H-Here!" With a snap of his fingers, a giant blanket formed around you, covering you from head to toe. You gripped it tightly to keep in from falling off your shoulders. Lucifer peaked through his arm to make sure you were decent. "Sorry again, I should have realized you wouldn't have been dressed yet." You felt your cheeks burn as he spoke. He reached down to pet Keekee who had then dropped the doll into his other hand. "Such a good girl, Keekee!" he praised her, "who's a good girl? You are! Yes you are!" He looked back up at you and cleared his throat. Lucifer stood up from his chair while Keekee leaped onto the ground, curling up into a ball, and taking a little nap under his desk.

You swallowed hard before finally finding your voice to speak. "L-Lucifer, I-I can explain! I-"

"It's alright," the fallen angel smiled. "I'm sorry about all this, but you've been avoiding me lately. I knew you'd follow Keekee once you realized she stole this from you." He held out the doll in his hand. "You made this?"

You nodded your head, refusing to make any sort of eye contact. "It was meant as a gift for you. The duck you gave me was amazing, I wanted to give you something in return, but..." you couldn't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Lucifer continued to smile softly at you. This was definitely not the reaction you were expecting from him. You had so many questions and so many apologies to give him, but there was one burning question that you needed answered first. "Did you know something like this was possible?"

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I didn't. One of my feathers is in this, right?" You nod. "It must still contain its magic despite not being attached to me anymore."

Your eyes shifted to the ground. "How did you know it was me?"

"I heard you." You raised your eyebrow, not understanding his answer. "I heard your voice. Anytime you held the doll, I heard you, as if you were whispering in my ear. At first, I didn't recognize it. But as you kept talking, the words you were saying; it all clicked. I've been trying to get your attention these last few days but you ran as soon as you saw me. Were you...afraid that I would be angry?"

You nodded again, tears now welling up in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Lucifer, I didn't mean to...I just..."

"Hey, hey! Please don't cry! Please?" Lucifer quickly wiped away the tears that fell down your cheek. "I'm not angry, I promise! I'm the furthest thing from it!"

You sniffled a few times, trying to even out your breathing again. "You...You're not? But why?"

Lucifer looked down at the doll in his hand and sighed. "Because...I haven't felt that kind of care in a long time. " He gently ran his hands over the small striped undershirt of the tiny Lucifer. "Hehe, it feels weird when I do it..." He looked back up at you with the most needy eyes you've ever seen. "I should have talked to you immediately after I figured out what was going on. I should have made more of an effort. But I didn't. I know that's selfish of me. But...I was afraid if I did, you would stop. Every time I tried to talk to you, you ran. And I was silently grateful that you did. It meant I would get to feel that same feeling of being held again that night. When you said that last night would be the final time, I knew I had to come clean. I couldn't let you go on thinking that what you were doing was wrong. I hope you can forgive me."

He was apologizing to you? When you were the one that made this magical doll and refused to tell him about it? "You have nothing to be sorry for, I created this, and I didn't tell you what was happening when I learned what I'd done. This is my fault."

"Can I see your hand?" Lucifer asked, almost as if he was ignoring the blame you were putting on yourself. You did as he asked and outstretched your hand. He placed the doll flat in your palm. "You're very skilled, you know. You did a wonderful job capturing my good side," he chuckled. "I know this was originally meant for me, but I want you to keep it. What you do with it is up to you." You remained perfectly as he spoke. "If you want to forget that this ever happened, I would completely understand. You can put it on a shelf or hide it in a closet, and this will never be brought up again." His palms rested on top of the doll and the bottom of your hand. "But..." his grip tightened ever so slightly, his claws digging into the fabric.

"You don't want that, do you?" his thoughts leaving your mouth. Lucifer didn't respond, he didn't even look up as you asked him.

That was all the answer you needed.

You pulled away and hid the doll under your blanket, giving him a soft smile. "I'll keep it...you safe. I promise. If it's what you really want."

"I do." The king couldn't help but beam at you. He wrapped his arms around you, constricting your own. He pulled away once he realized how hard he had been squeezing you. "Sorry," he laughed lightly. "Umm, by the way, i-if you ever need me, you can use the doll to talk to me if I'm not around. It can be about anything..." he leaned in closer and closer to you until you felt the light brush of his lips against your cheek. "And I do mean anything. I don't want to, you know, assume anything, but there had to be a reason why you went to bed with the doll every night. Some of the things you said...it sounded like you had more that you wanted to say. I just don't want you to be afraid. We're friends after all, right?"

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you listened to his words. You tried to speak but only air left your lips. Lucifer only giggled as you watched his cheeks turn a pale yellow. You couldn't believe what he was inferring. it couldn't be possible. And yet here you were with Lucifer himself practically begging for more of your attention.

"I...I don't know what to say," you finally managed to choke out. "This is all a little overwhelming, Lucifer."

"Then don't say anything," Lucifer responded. "Take all the time you need. I hope to see you soon," With a snap of his fingers, you were engulfed in sparkling red flame. You shielded your eyes for a brief moment. But after opening them again, you found yourself back in your bedroom. You walked over to your open door and quietly closed it, sinking to the floor afterwards. There was a lot you needed to process. The blanket that covered you fell to the floor as you ogled at the doll in your hand.

You hugged it tighter than you ever had before.

****

The rest of the day was perfectly quiet, mostly because you did see Lucifer for the rest of it. You cautiously approached Charlie and asked about him. She let you know that her dad told her he needed his privacy today and that no one should worry. Her words didn't comfort you like you hoped they would. Was Lucifer okay? Did this whole ordeal cause him to isolate himself. Did he change his mind about it? Your heart sunk at the thought. You needed to talk to him again, but you weren't sure you could face him. But...there was another option.

Later that night, you threw on your robe to get ready for a nice long bath. After the day you had, you needed it. You glanced over at the little stuffed doll sitting on your night stand, now hearing your own heartbeat in your ears. It was now or never; you wouldn't let your nerves get the better of you anymore. You took a hold of it and sat down on your bed, now extra aware of  your hand movements.

"Lucifer, can you hear me?" You asked. There was no response. "I guess that was a stupid question. Hey, umm, I wanted to thank you. For today, I mean. I was so afraid that this situation would sully our friendship so badly that you'd never want to talk to me again. I hope you're doing alright. And I hope Keekee's teeth didn't hurt you too badly. I'm rambling now, aren't I?" In that moment, you could almost hear Lucifer's laugh.

The grip on you had on it tightened ever so slightly as you gathered the courage for what you really wanted to say. "You were right before. When you thought I had more to say to you. I-I did. But I didn't know how you would take it if I ever told you. I was afraid of your reaction. And your rejection. But...I don't have the strength to tell you in person." You brought the doll closer to your face, your lips ghosting over the fabric. "I love you," you whispered before planting a small peck to its small cheek.

Silence.

Your breath heaved slightly before setting the doll back down. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. It was done. There was nothing more you can do. You stood up and headed straight for the tub. You needed that bath now more than ever.

Knock knock knock

You froze in place for a few seconds, a little bit frightened by the sudden noise that emanated from your bedroom door.

Knock knock knock knock knock

The knocking on the door became more eager. You hurried over to answer after waiting a little too long to answer. Silently, you opened the door.

Lucifer was standing there in the hallway with the brightest smile.

"I love you too. I only wish you would have told me sooner," the ruler of Hell whispered as he gripped your hands. "Because then I could have done this!"

With little warning, Lucifer brought his lips to yours. You sat there in shock, eyes wide, before quickly succumbing to his temptations. You let your eyes lids fall as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer while his hands found your waist. A delicate kiss to your soft lips, over and over he lightly parted his own as he continuously nipped at you. He pulled away, staring back with his half-lidded eyes. You could have sworn he was drunk of the kiss the way his face formed into a goofy grin. He giggled just a little before widening his eyes in shock and stepping away.

"I'm sorry! I don't know how I keep catching you at the worst times!" he exclaimed now looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. You realized what had caused him to get so flustered. You looked down and remembered that you were in your robe.

And only your robe.

You blushed hard, not being able to stop yourself from laughing. "No, no, it's okay! This one's on me, I shouldn't have called you dressed like this."

"But you didn't know I was going to pop over here! My fault, I don't wanna hear any 'buts'!" Lucifer turned his head to the side still doing his best not to look at you.

"Well, I was just getting ready for a bath..." you began.

"O-Oh, yeah, of course! No worries! I really should have thought this through, I just got really excited and I...Anyway! We can talk about this tomorrow! So, I'll just be-"

"My bath is big enough for two." You blurted out without thinking.

At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. What was only a few moments felt like an eternity of silence. Your first instinct was to shut the door and lock it as fast as possible, but your body refused to budge. You just stood there horrified at the words that had escaped your mouth.

Lucifer wasn't faring much better. You watched his whole face turn a bright yellow that spread rapidly over his painted cheeks. And...was he shaking?

"I don't know why I said that," you mumbled almost incoherently. "if you need me, I'll be drowning myself now." You began to close the door before Lucifer caught it.

"I don't want you to drown," he spoke softly with just a hint of humor in his voice. "I better stay to make sure you're safe."

His words shot threw you like an arrow and your body instinctively opened the door once more to let your visitor in. The implications of his acceptance of your accidental offer crashed over you as soon as Lucifer closed the door behind him. He gave you a sheepish smile, his face's yellow tint had yet to rescind.

"I-I'll uhh, I'll draw the bath then," you squeaked and scurried over to the bathroom without another word. You tossed a towel for him onto your bed and hid yourself in the next room as the water began to fill the tub. You felt as though you could pass out at any moment; the crushing anxiety mixed with your burning desire to be as close to him as physically possible was a terrifying yet tantalizing feeling. To counter your worry, you grabbed some bottled soap from the counter and mixed it in with the steaming water, creating thousands of little white bubbles that threatened to spill over onto the floor. You would worry about any mess made later; right now, you wanted to savor this moment as much as you possibly could. Disrobing, you stepped into the now full tub and sunk down into the soothing water. Your heart was still beating a mile a minute but the water did half a sort of calming effect on you.

Knock knock knock

Well, that didn't last long.

"May I join you now?" Lucifer's muffled voiced called out.

A few quick deep breaths later, you cleared your throat, praying your voice wouldn't reveal how utterly stressed you were. "Y-Yes, come in!" Perhaps a poor choice of words, but you didn't have time to think about that when you caught your first glimpse of a nearly naked Lucifer. His alabaster skin looked as if he had been carved from the finest marble, his shoulders were broad compared to his relatively slim physique. Your eyes trailed to his blackened arms and hands that perfectly contrasted the rest of his skin. He was the epitome of perfection. The man closed the door behind him and made his way over to you.

"H-Hi," Lucifer stuttered.

"Heeeyyyyy there..." you rolled your eyes. "Listen, we can agree this is just a little awkward, right?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Maybe just a little bit. How's the water?"

"Join me and see for yourself! I'll just umm..." you turned your head and covered the side of your face with your hand, assuring you wouldn't see anything once he removed his towel.

"I'm not shy, hon." You just knew if you turned around, he would have the most prideful smirk on his face.

"You should get in before I change my mind," you playfully shot back.

You heard his towel hit the floor immediately. A fiery heat burned your core as the water shifted when he made his way in the tub. You closed your eyes for good measure so that you wouldn't be tempted to make this even more awkward than it already was. As soon as the water stopped moving, you took that as a sign that it was safe to look again. You turned your head to see Lucifer was sitting back against the other side playfully running his hands through the soapy bubbles that were floating on the surface.

"I love the bubbles, a very nice touch!" he commented.

"Thanks," you murmured. "You're sitting the wrong way though."

"Huh?"

"W-Well," you cleared your throat, "how am I supposed to clean you if you’re sitting so far away?"

"Oh...oh! Yeah, you're right!" Lucifer quickly spun his body around, his back now facing you. You spread your legs wider for him to scoot up closer to you, but he remained closer to the center of the tub. "Is this better?"

"Still a little too far..." The time for embarrassment had long gone. You grabbed a hold of Lucifer's hips and brought his body nearly flush between your thighs, earning a yelp from the startled angel. "What happened to not being shy, hmm?" you taunted. You could have sworn a little whimper escaped his throat.

Despite its frigid appearance, his body was warmer than you expected. You didn't let your hands linger on his waist for too long nor did you want to think about how his ass was mere inches away from your yearning womanhood. You forced yourself out of the trance and instead grabbed the washcloth and body soap from the small table and began to pour some of the liquid into the small towel, rubbing it between your fingers. "You promise to tell me if this becomes too much?"

Lucifer turned his head with a soft look on his face. "I promise that it won't be." You hummed, slowly bringing the cloth to his skin. He shuddered from the contact.

"Are you alright, Lucifer?"

He exhaled deeply. "I'm alright. More than alright! I'm just...really enjoying this. Thank you..."

You didn't waist anymore time scrubbing the rest of his back clean. Moving to his shoulders, down each arms, then reaching around the front to get to his chest. Without realizing, your head found its way to one of his shoulders, your chin resting comfortably. A soft sigh left your lips.

"Hey, uhh, y-you're going a little low there..." Lucifer said, his voice snapping you out of your haze. Your hand somehow drifted below the water and ended up resting on his lower stomach. Once you realized where you were heading, you pulled your arms away immediately.

"Sorry!" you nearly shouted. "I-I wasn't paying attention! Shit, I'm sorry!"

Lucifer shifted again, now facing you and gave you a small peck. "Sweetheart, it's alright, really! You don't need to apologize." Lucifer took the rag from your hand and made his way back to where he first started against the other side of the tub. "Here, let me return the favor. It's your turn now." With mild hesitation, you accepted his help wordlessly, turning your back to him as he did for you. Afraid of getting any closer, you stopped before any noticeable contact had been made. "I need you closer, dear," he whispered in your ear before pulling you against his chest with minimal effort.

You felt everything in that moment; his hands resting on your hips, his hot breath against your sensitive skin, and most distracting of all, his very noticeable hard on against the small of your back. It took everything you had to not scream like you wanted to. Knowing that this perfect creator was turned on by you made your heart flutter like a butterfly. Your body begged your to shift, if only a little bit, just to feel him rub against you. But you fought it against it furiously, digging your finger into the sides of his thighs to keep yourself grounded. The way your body tensed caused Lucifer to push you away from him slightly.

"Too much?" he asked, concerned that he may have crossed a line.

"No." you shook your head. You pushed yourself back against him, the friction sending a shiver up your spine. The low moan from Lucifer was magical, almost hypnotic. You needed to hear more. But before you could shift again, you felt the soft texture of the washcloth against your back.

"Good," his voice causing goosebumps to form on your arms, "now let's get you clean." He mimicked your movements, gliding the cloth against your soft skin, starting from the top and working his way down methodically. He moved to your shoulders, first the left and the right. Every muscle in your body just wanted to relax into him; you only wanted to float in this water with him for the rest of the night. But you were snapped out of your daydream when you noticed his movements had stopped. You looked down and saw his hand resting on your collarbone. It took only a moment to realize why the devil himself became a statue.

Lucifer swallowed hard behind you. "Am I allowed to...can I...?"

With a small giggle, you took the cloth from his hand and tossed it to the ground. Pulling your hands out of the water, you guided his own hands to your breasts. Lucifer gasped lightly but didn't pull away once your released his hands. His claws felt so nice on your bare skin that you let out a gasp of your own. "I think we're past the point of modesty, Lucifer. Go ahead, I-I want you to touch me."

Your permission was all he needed. Within a second, the king of Hell began to massage your breasts with the most delicate of touches, kneading them like fresh dough. His mouth sank down onto your pulse, sucking on it feverishly. A small whimper escaped your throat as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers. The man was intoxicated and you were the cause.

"You're too good to me, you know that?" he breathed against your skin. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you how beautiful you are? How enchanting? How irresistible?" One of his hands made its way down your side to your hip, sinking beneath the water and resting on your inner thigh. "To hold you like this is a dream come true."

"Lucifer, please..." you begged. Your hand found his once more and guided it down to where you needed him most. Once his fingers reached your folds, you couldn't help but whimper. In no time, he began circling your clit gingerly while his other hand worked at your breast. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You opened your legs as wide as your tub would allow to give him more access to your needy hole.

"Tell me what you want, love," he whispered in your ear. "Just say the word and it's yours."

"Touch me..." you pleaded.

You felt a finger slip into you effortlessly, a broken moan falling from your lips. You turned your head and crashed your lips into his, your desire for him only growing with every passing second. Another one of his fingers slid into you, his digits gliding in and out of your pussy with ease. He moaned into your mouth as he continued to pump his digits into your cunt, his pace increasing slowly with every movement.

"Need more of you..." he pleaded. "Please..." His fingers refused to let up. The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter. You cried out in pure elation when you felt the coil finally give way, cumming hard and pulsing around his fingers that had yet to slow down. Once you could breathe normally against, he at last retreated his fingers from you, giving you a small peck on your forehead.

"T-Thank you," you mumbled out. "I think we're both pretty clean now, wouldn't you say."

"I'd say your right," Lucifer agreed. In a flash, Lucifer managed to stand up and scoop you up effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. You let out a small yelp when he picked you up and set you down on the bathroom floor, retrieving a towel from the nearby rack and sliding it up and down your body before using it on himself. "But I think this is all for naught," he continued as he guided you back to your bed, "because I think we may need another bath, I'm afraid."

He laid you down and quickly shoved his heads between your legs. You realized what he was about to do and sat up before he could go any further. "Wait, wait, hold on now!" Lucifer's eyes looked back at you with concern. "I don't think this is fair! What about you? I haven't even touched you yet!"

Lucifer gaze softened. "Oh, hon, I appreciate it but you don't have to worry about me! I-I'm fine, really! I just...I really need to taste you... Please, I'll do anything!"

You closed your legs and folded your arms over your chest, earning a tiny whimper from the man in front of you. "I seem to recall that I could have anything I wanted," you teased. Lucifer nodded and stuck out his lower lip to pout. You rolled your eyes and smiled, crawling over to him. "I have an idea. But you need to lay down for me. Can you do that?"

He did as you said almost instantly, his head hitting the back of the pillows with a soft thud. At this point you couldn't help but stare at his twitching cock. It was beautiful; thicker and longer than you might have expected from someone of his stature. Not that you would ever complain. You had to hold yourself back from letting out a whine that threatened to make you sound even more pathetic. You closed your eyes and crawled over the devil beneath you. You leaned down to kiss him again, his tongue not holding back from pushing through your lips and entangling it with yours. You pulled away and smiled unabashedly at him, admiring his perfect face and his insanely adorable blush. Without a word, you turned your body so your pussy hovered inches away from his mouth.

"S-Shit..." you heard Lucifer mutter under his breath. Knowing you had this much of an effect on him gave you the confidence you needed to grab ahold of his aching member. Lucifer couldn't help but cry out.

"This way we both get what we want," you told him before giving his tip a tiny little kitten lick. The precum from his shaft had already begun spilling onto your hand; you couldn't help but grin. "Someone is needyyyyYYYY F-FUCK!"

Lucifer pulled your hips down onto his face without warning, his tongue working at your slick cunt like a man starved. HIs claws dug into the sides of your body, the pain mixing with the undeniable pleasure his mouth gave you. Not to be outdone, you sunk your mouth down on his cock, licking and sucking at the tip. Lucifer moaned into your pussy at the feeling of your tongue. Both of your lust-filled sounds filled your room as you each sought to bring the other to their climax. You wouldn't let him win. You couldn't.

Your head bobbed up and down his girthy shaft over and over, taking in as much of him as you could. But with your growing pace came Lucifer's own counter move as his forked tongue pushed even further into you than you thought possible. You were both coming undone impossibly fast. Even with your head fuzzy from the tantalizing feeling of his mouth, your hand and mouth worked together in tandem to push him over the edge. Lucifer cursed against your skin as you felt his hot cum finally fill your waiting mouth. But it only took him a few seconds more to bring you to another orgasm after he begun to tease your clit over and over and over, refusing to give you any sort of reprieve.

You swallowed as much of his as you could before letting go of his cock with a satisfying pop with some of his release dripping down towards your chin. You wiped your fingers against the remains and made sure he watched as you licked them clean. Something in Lucifer must have snapped because the next thing you knew, you had been flipped down onto the mattress with your wrists pinned at your sides. You blinked and stared up into Lucifer now glowing red eyes; his. His demonic horns had burst from his temple, his angelic wings appeared and began flapping behind him, and his tail whipped back and forth before coiling itself around your waist. You gulped, your pussy begging to be filled by the man above you.

"Sorry," Lucifer apologized. "I got a little too excited there." He freed your hands and brought them down to your hips. "D-Do you want to keep going? We can stop if this is too much and-"

You cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips. "It's alright, Luci. I want this. I want you."

Lucifer smiled and kissed you again, stroking his still hard cock in the process. When he pulled away, you felt the tip graze your slick folds. That feeling alone was enough to make you shudder with anticipation. With final nod from you, Lucifer at last began to sink into you. You winced at the pain you felt as your body forced itself to stretch for him until he finally bottomed out inside of you. The pain slowly faded as he waited patiently, smiling at you the entire time.

"Y-You can move now," you squeaked out.

Lucifer nodded, shifting his hips just enough to pull out of you almost all the way before thrusting back in, earning a wanton moan from you. He started slow for you, knowing his size was a bit much to handle. But as your body relaxed, his picked up the pace. Faster and faster until both of you were complete and utter moaning messes.

"F-Fuck...feel so good, love," Lucifer sighed as his wings began to twitch. "S-So good. So perfect...I'm really happy y-you made that doll. I-I know everything didn't go exactly as planned but...GAAHHH FFFFUCK...I think it all turned out f-for the better, don't you think?"

Your moans turned into giggles as he continued to rut into you relentlessly. "You're s-such a dork," you laughed as your legs wrapped around him to force him to keep him as deep inside you as possible.

"B-But I'm your dork," he joked back. "Sorry love, but you're stuck with m-me now!"

"G-Good," you responded breathlessly, his hips thrusting into you even faster than before. "Then we c-can be dorks together!"

"P-Perfect!" Your cunt sucked in his cock as you felt the coil in your stomach tightening again. By the noises he was making, you can only assume Lucifer was almost at his limit too. "Darling...c-can't...I'm close...f-fuck...where-"

"Inside!" you screamed. "FuckfuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!" Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your wanton cries echoing off the corners of your room. It only took a few more thrusts for Lucifer to follow suit and spill his seed inside of you, his cum painting your walls a pearlescent white was he pulled you in close for another passionate kiss.

The king crashed on top of you after pulling out of you, his unearthly features retreating except for his tail which remained firmly wrapped around you. You smiled as he laid his head on your chest, his breathing labored and shaky. You stroked his soft blond hair as he hummed in approval. He looked up at you with adoring eyes and stuck out his snake-like tongue.

"What's that look for?" you asked him.

"Oh nothing," Lucifer sighed, "I'm just looking at the prettiest woman in all of Hell is all!"

You pushed his face away and laughed. "Yep, still a dork."

"But you love me!" he said gleefully, rolling onto the bed and pulling you into a tight embrace.

"I do, I really do. I wish I would have told you sooner."

Lucifer kissed the top of your forehead. "Don't worry, hon, I know now. And that's all that matters. Besides, I finally get to hold you now! And wow, does it feel like heaven!"

You buried your face in his chest and squeezed him tight. "Well, I can say for certain that you feel much better than the doll. Would you...like to stay over tonight?"

"Of course I would love," he spoke softly. "I have you in my arms now, and I don't intend on ever letting you go."

~~~~

THIS TOOK WAY TOO FUCKING LONG, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!

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[luvzshy]

hi i’ve had this idea for a while but could you write something about billie and actress reader being very close friends for years, but then reader invites Billie to stay at her place for a week since it's been a while since they last saw each other, and after a few days reader confess her feelings to billie while watching a movie on her couch, but make it very hoooooot and very smutty pretty please

add a lot of tension before the confession part and how reader and billie are already veryyy touchy as friends!!

also i think current/brunette billie would be perfect for that!!

The Confession

Summary: After years of friendship, the lines between Billie Eilish and her actress best friend blur when they reunite for a week at the reader’s place. As the tension builds and the chemistry ignites, they find themselves navigating uncharted territory of desire, leading to a passionate confession that changes everything.

Word Count: Approximately 1,189 words

Warnings: Smut, sexual tension, explicit language, friends-to-lovers, light descriptions of intimacy

The years you spent with Billie were a whirlwind of laughter, support, and the kind of deep conversations that only the closest of friends could share. But somewhere along the way, the innocent touches and playful banter shifted into something undeniably charged, a tension simmering just beneath the surface.

When you invited Billie over to your place for a week, you had no idea how this would change everything. She arrived with that signature smile that made your heart race, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing an oversized hoodie that did nothing to hide her curves.

“Missed you,” you said, pulling her into a hug, letting the warmth of her body linger against yours a moment too long. You could smell her perfume—sweet, intoxicating, and it made your head spin.

“Missed you too,” she replied, her voice soft as she pulled back, those green eyes sparkling with mischief.

As the days rolled on, the two of you fell back into your comfortable routine. You spent evenings sprawled on the couch, watching movies, but your attention was always on each other. Each time her thigh brushed against yours or her fingers lightly grazed your skin, your heart would race, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

One night, as you settled in for a particularly cheesy romantic film, the couch was too small for the space you both filled with pent-up energy. You settled in close, her arm draping over your shoulders as you sank into her warmth.

“Are you even paying attention to the movie?” she teased, nudging you playfully.

“Of course I am,” you replied, though you could hardly focus. The proximity of her body, the way her thumb absentmindedly rubbed circles on your arm, was far too distracting. “It’s riveting.”

Billie chuckled, but her gaze was serious as it flicked to your lips. “I think you’re lying.” The playful smile lingered, but her eyes were intense, full of something unspoken.

“Maybe I am,” you confessed, heart racing as your breaths quickened, and the playful banter began to dissolve into something deeper.

“Why do I feel like there’s more going on in that pretty head of yours?” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips were mere inches from yours.

“Because there is,” you said, voice trembling slightly. “Billie, I can’t keep pretending that this is just friendship. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I think it’s more than just that.”

Billie’s breath hitched, and you could see her processing your words. The tension in the room was palpable, thickening the air around you both. “You’re serious?” she asked, almost in disbelief.

“Completely.”

You leaned in, the distance between you vanishing as your lips met in a soft kiss that quickly ignited into something more. Billie tasted sweet, like the candy you’d shared earlier, and you melted against her as the kiss deepened. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as her body pressed against yours.

As you kissed, you felt the world around you disappear, leaving just the two of you. Your hands roamed over her body, feeling the warmth of her curves beneath the fabric of her hoodie. You tugged at it, wanting to feel more of her skin beneath your fingers.

Billie pulled back for a breath, eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

“More than anything,” you breathed, leaning in to kiss her again.

With a swift movement, Billie shifted, pushing you gently back against the couch, her body hovering over you. The kiss grew more frantic, hungry, as she explored your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless. You could feel her warmth radiating against you, the undeniable heat of the moment consuming you both.

“Let me,” she murmured against your lips, her voice dripping with desire, before trailing kisses down your neck, sending electric shocks through your body. You gasped, arching into her touch as she kissed along your collarbone, her hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt.

“God, Billie…” you moaned, heart racing as her fingers brushed over your skin. Every touch was igniting fire within you, the need building to an almost unbearable level.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she confessed, her voice low and rough. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.”

Her hands explored your body, fingers tracing along the curves of your waist, pulling you closer as she pressed her body against you, her hips rolling against yours, causing heat to pool in your stomach.

“Billie,” you gasped, feeling overwhelmed with desire. You tugged at her hoodie, wanting to peel it off and reveal the skin beneath.

She hesitated, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Are you sure?” she asked, searching for any signs of doubt.

You nodded, your breath shaky but resolute. “I want you, Billie. Please.”

With a breathless smile, Billie leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that sent sparks flying through your body. She quickly shed her hoodie, exposing a simple black bralette that hugged her curves perfectly. Your hands instinctively roamed over her skin, fingers tracing the edges, marveling at how soft she felt beneath your touch.

You pulled her closer, your hands roaming down her back as your lips never left hers. Billie moaned softly into the kiss, and the sound ignited something primal within you. You rolled your hips against hers, and she gasped, a delicious sound that spurred you on.

“More,” she whispered, breaking the kiss to breathe in deeply, her eyes dark and filled with longing.

You nodded, letting instinct guide you as you pushed her back gently until she was lying flat on the couch, your body hovering over hers. The heat between you was intoxicating, the tension that had built up over the years now manifesting in a whirlwind of passion.

Your lips met again, deeper this time, the kiss filled with urgency and need. You moved your hands to explore her body, caressing her curves, savoring every inch of skin you could reach. As you kissed, you could feel her hands moving down your sides, fingers tugging at your shirt, urging you to let her explore as well.

With a swift motion, she pulled you down against her, her hands sliding under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, causing you to shiver in delight. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you lost in each other.

“Let me show you how much I want you,” she murmured, her voice husky with desire, and you could only nod, lost in the moment.

Billie flipped you over, capturing your lips again as she straddled you, her body pressing down against yours. The heat radiating from her was intoxicating, and you could feel every curve against you, igniting a fire within that demanded to be fed.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, her breath hot against your ear as she pressed her body closer.

“More than ever,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, desire burning through you like wildfire.

With a sultry smile, Billie began to move against you, her hips rolling in a rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You gasped, feeling her warmth enveloping you, the intensity of your shared passion building to an almost unbearable level.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, hands gripping her waist, urging her on.

Billie’s movements grew more urgent, her breath coming in soft gasps as she lost herself in the moment. Every roll of her hips sent waves of pleasure radiating through you, and you could feel the tension building, the promise of something exquisite just within reach.

“God, you feel so good,” she breathed, her fingers gripping your shoulders, nails digging in slightly as she moved faster, the urgency between you escalating.

You pulled her down for another kiss, feeling the heat rise as your bodies melded together, perfectly in sync. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in this moment of pure ecstasy.

As the fire between you ignited, you knew that this night would change everything. This was no longer just friendship—it was something deeper, a connection that would redefine everything you had shared. You surrendered to the passion, the heat, and the undeniable truth of your feelings for Billie, knowing that there was no going back now.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SEVEN

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

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @h34rtsformilli @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l (sorry about these ones that didn’t work ☹️) @yassedsblog @jissy22 @blank-blank80 @brynslverr @melinaaa3 @alex-1347 @lolbods @girlypop05

kalena speakss 🪽! this is a filler chapter, everything starts to ramp up and get more messy (as if it isn’t already) starting next chapter ;)

June 2025 — New York City, New York

“Don’t even bring that up, oh my God.” Rickea laughs, reaching one of her long arms over to slap at my knee.

Rickea, Cameron, and I sit soundly in the green room, makeup placed deliberately on our faces. We played the Liberty last night, in a game with an outcome I would rather forget than talk about.

But today, after the team hopped on the first charter back to LA, we had a date with GQ. They called it The Teammates Quiz, and we were given the honor of being the first women’s sports team with the opportunity. I thought it was a cool idea, a game that I would certainly win because I know my teammates well.

However, it seems like these two know me just as well because they are airing my business out to everybody in this room right now. Well, maybe not all of it, but close enough. 

“Kea, you fell on your face in the middle of downtown LA. I’m with P, I’m so bringing it up.” Cameron laughs.

“I was drunk!”

“You were more sober than P. And she drinks like a man going through a divorce.” I instantly pull back from my makeup artist, looking over at my teammate incredulously.

“I do not!” I attempt to defend. “You two insisted on buying drinks after the draft, not me.”

Cameron, who’s seconds away from bursting out in tears of laughter, speaks up through her ragged breaths. “You got so drunk you were making out with random girls in the club.”

“Least I ain’t fall on concrete in the middle of LA.” I laugh, sitting back in my seat and allowing Joanna to get back to doing my makeup. I let her and Brittany take control of my look, they know best after all. 

You would think with the way the three of us all talk to each other that our on court chemistry is terrible, but it’s the complete opposite. Probably why GQ asked us to do this little segment today. I cut my attention back to my teammates when Rickea’s voice cuts through the air again.

“Have you talked to Raye lately?”

The way she asks it seems skeptical. Like she knows something, or is suspicious of something and I can’t pick up why. We’ve been keeping our friendship pretty cordial— at least to our friends and in public.

Maybe Maraye told her about the kiss. Maybe Maraye told her literally nothing, and Rickea is just trying to pry as she does often.

“Uh yeah, we hung out a few nights ago.” I respond, so lucky that Joanne is angling my head in the opposite direction, successfully hiding my growing red face from my teammates. “She’s pretty cool.”

Which isn’t a lie, we did hang out a few nights ago. Only my lips start tingling whenever I think about it. I swear I can taste her still on them all these hours later; like a mix of every single dessert on the planet. So damn sweet. I wonder if she always tasted like that, or if she tasted different elsewhere. 

And yes, Maraye is pretty cool. Pretty funny, pretty smart, pretty talented, pretty. So fucking pretty.

I’m realizing now that three days has been too damn long. To see her damn near everyday, then not at all for a week, then again in which I end up with my tongue down her throat. To not have been within inches of her for 72 fucking hours has me going just a bit crazy.

“I didn’t know y’all were hanging out.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you that.” I fire back too quickly. It makes it seem defensive, and it’s not. I have nothing to hide. 

Well yeah I do, but I think I’m pretty good at hiding it.

“Paige.” Cam says, cutting into the conversation awkwardly. “Please don’t tell me you did something stupid.”

I slouch back in my seat and Brittany, who I swore just magically spawned behind me, slaps my shoulder telling me to sit up. “I didn’t! You guys can’t ever just trust me.” I laugh.

“‘Cause you get caught doing stupid shit!” Rickea explains.

“Caught?”

“Caught? Again?”

“You haven’t seen twitter?”

Those four words always make my heart beat out of my chest. The internet is cool when it comes to me, out of pocket sure, but cool. But on the off occasion that they aren’t, it’s because they are either making shitty posts about what i’m doing on the court, writing think pieces, or minding my business rather than their own. I’m assuming, in context to Maraye, that it’s the latter.

“The fuck happened this time.” I ask with a huff. The first time, I had gotten too comfortable at the club. Which was admittedly my own drunken fault. The second time I was trending because people swore up and down I was making goo-goo eyes at Taylor Rooks. Which I was, she’s absolutely unreal. And now here we are.

Cameron is the one who looks first, and by the look of her face I assume it’s pretty telling. Rickea hands me her phone. I take it, slightly shaking and I don’t know why. 

My eyes are stuck to the screen, and it’s four pictures. I’m not sure who took them, but Maraye has reached A-list status and I forget the Paps are everywhere when it comes to her. 

The first is us leaving the bar in Atlanta. Maraye’s head isn’t in the shot, she’s busy hopping into the backseat of our uber, but mine is. It’s very obviously me, my signature braids down the side of my face rather than in the usual ponytail. My hand is stuck comfortably in the pocket of my zip up while the other holds the door open for her.

The second photo is from when we’re seated at Waffle house. I’m showing all 32 while Maraye talks, and it makes us look like a fucking couple. Her arms rest on the table, head slightly tilted. From the angle, again, you can’t see all her face but her side profile is obvious. Anyone could point it out and recognize her.

But it’s the last two that make us look the most guilty. My arm draped over her shoulder is very incriminating. She held her pink lemonade flavored slushee in her hand, looking up at me. One more swipe and I’m looking at myself paying for those two slushee’s. It doesn’t help that my jacket from earlier that night is now zipped up over her body. 

‘Paige Bueckers and Maraye Carter in atl this weekend 😲’  Reads the tweet. It’s messy, even more when I scroll further and see people putting pieces together. The replies are full of videos from opening night, screenshots of my recent activity in her instagram likes, and of course, of course, someone had to have seen me in my seat at her concert.

It looks bad. I would say worse than it is, but it all doesn’t even scratch the surface. 

“We just friends.” I mumble, I wouldn’t be surprised if my nose grew a centimeter or two. “Y’know how people get.”

I hand Rickea her phone back. She’s the one I should be scared off, Cameron has been done with my relationship issues since I first met her as kids. But Kea? After the talk about leaving Maraye alone, and how I know better, and how I don’t need to get hurt. I’m terrified that I’m about to get caught.

“Has she seen these?”

“Ion know.” She responded. “Probably. But If you two are jus’ friends’, then don’t sweat it. Hollywood moves fast.”

Really fast. 

—

June 2025 — Los Angeles, California 

“You’re literally a fan, shut up.” I joke at the blonde sitting besides me.

She’s messily scarfing down her chipotle bowl as we sit in her car. The windows are tinted nicely and my album shuffles through her speakers, even though she swears up and down that she didn’t add it to her library.

“Am not.”

“Yeah yeah, pinocchio.”

It’s my first time seeing her since the night in my condo, and it’s awkward. Which is weird because Paige and I have never been awkward together. Everything was always smooth, fluid, when it came to her. But now I don’t know what to say.

I blame it on the kiss.

It should’ve never happened. She knows that, I know that. Even then I don’t regret it. 

I’ve never in my life had feelings for a woman before, until now. And it’s so weird because I think I still have feelings for Julian too. It’s not the same thing though. Julian is perfect for me. Good job, family man, tall, handsome, the most gorgeous and perfect curly hair I’ve ever seen. Then there’s Paige, and she just might be perfect for me too. Work oriented, funny, insanely smart even though I tell her she’s not. 

So I sit silent in her passenger seat, not a clue in the world of what I should say to her. She makes me nervous, she makes the bottom of my stomach twist up whenever I look at her and see those beautiful blue eyes. I shouldn’t feel that way, I know that. But damn does she make it hard.

“Maraye?”

“Yeah?”

Paige chuckles, reaching over to wipe a bit of Vinaigrette from my lip. “I said ‘you good?’”

I nod and my head moves slightly away from her reach. “Yeah. Why?” I ask, taking a generous bit from my burrito.

“Because you’re sittin’ there all quiet.” She explains. “I know we kissed and all that but I ain’t think you would stop bein’ cool around me.” She says in an attempt to ease the atmosphere, the obvious tension that bounces off walls.

“It’s not that.” I mumble.

She puts the lid on her bowl, reaching towards the back seat to drop the trash in the brown chipotle bag. When she turns back to face me, I get a great look at her for the first time all night. Her hair is in a messy bun, strands slightly framing her face.

“Then what is it, Raye?” Paige slouches in the seat. “‘Cause don’t get me wrong, I feel some typa way about you but we’re friends first—”

“I wanna kiss you again.” I blurt out. It’s word vomit, like I can’t help but tell her how badly I want her lips on mine and her tongue in my mouth. Hands on my waist, my ass, in my hair. 

She laughs, and I pray to God she’s not laughing at me. “That’s why you can’t talk to me anymore?”

“I wanna kiss you, but I know how wrong that is. I have a boyfriend, and everyone already thinks something is going on here.” My finger gestures between the both of us.

“You saw the pictures?” Paige cuts me off. Her hand slips forward to grab her phone.

“Did you?”

“Kea showed me them yesterday.”

We sit in silence. I’m trying to process her response. 

“Did, uh, did Julian see them?” She asks.

Shit. Julian. It seems like I’m constantly forgetting about him whenever I’m with her. Always. I’m such a fucking asshole. 

“No, I-I didn’t show him. I don’t think I needed to.” I explain through my stutter. He didn’t need to see them. One, because it wasn’t anything serious. The photos made Paige and I look bad, sure, but there was nothing to worry about. It would only make me and him argue, and we do enough of that already.

“Good.” She nods. “He probably shouldn’t anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know I really wanna kiss you too.” Paige says. I thought that was it. The kiss happened once, and we were back to being friends. Being normal.

“Paige—”

“I can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

“P, quit it.”

“I keep thinking about how you taste. Like all day. And I shouldn’t, I know that, but you make it fuckin’ impossible.” The blonde sighs. Her eyes fall shut like it’s painful, painful to not kiss me. 

I shake my head, hoping that it’s enough for her to stop talking about it. “Paige, you and I are friends. That’s it. I have a boyfriend, and you’re not a home wrecker. We aren’t doing that again.”

She goes quiet. Then her eyes open and she turns back towards the wheel. It’s 10:30 at night and she has a game in the morning. Paige’s hips raise slightly to fix her sweatpants. A pulse races through me when it happens. 

“You understand? We can’t.” I ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah, just friends.” Paige says.

I want to believe her. I really do. But the look in her eyes tells me I shouldn’t. Those blue orbs I know so well are suddenly a deep color, pupils wide. She slightly bites the corner of her lip, staring at me like I could run away.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I push at her shoulder, a chuckle escaping my lips. “I’m serious. No kissing, no flirting. I’m not a cheater, P. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know, I know. I won’t.” She responds. “But if it happens?” Paige leans into me again. Her hand flicking a curl away from my face before playing with it. She stares at me with intensity.

“It won’t.”

“If it does, I’m not apologizing for it.”

And then she pulls back, sitting in her seat and pulling her seatbelt over her body. She turns the engine on without even a second thought.

I sit there speechless, burrito growing cold between my hands. And I know, without a doubt, no matter how badly I want to hold out and follow through on my promise.

Paige is dangerous, and I don’t think I have it in me.

She’s gonna win. Again.

[bambi-kinos]

I've heard Paul say that Linda and John have something in common. What do you think about this ? What's the difference between Paul's love for Linda and his love for John?

Paul likes people who are good at getting what they want. John had that in spades, Linda lied her way into being a photographer, even Heather Mills was good at that since she had to bounce back from losing her leg. That is probably one of the big things Linda and John had in common, they wanted to live their lives on their own terms. Paul is someone who would have lived his life completely on rails until he found John so that's a quality he would admire immensely.

I think Linda, John and Heather also did something that no one else in Paul's life was willing to do: they validated his anger. John said "your father is fucking awful let's get the fuck out of here." Linda said "your bandmates are fucking awful let's get the fuck out of here."

When it comes to Heather, there's a few articles from that era talking about how Paul is visibly angrier than usual and it brings to mind this quote from Brian:

Paul is endowed with an immense talent, he hides a great inner tenderness and a formidable sensitivity under angry outside. In my opinion, it is the one that most appeals to strangers, autograph hunters, fans and even other artists. He has a beautiful smile and a formidable enthusiasm that he uses, not to be laughed at, but because he knows that these are assets that can make people around him happy.

...Therefore, I do not take into account his mood swings and hold him in high esteem. I would not want to lose his friendship under any circumstances.” - Brian Epstein, A Cellarful of Noise, 1964.

It's interesting that Brian saw an angry outside to Paul when we would not call Paul angry. But Brian saw more than most and saw Paul's rough side and tl;dr I think that's what Brian is referencing here. I think that Heather Mills saw that in Paul and said "stop acting like you're not an angry person, why are you repressing this?"

Linda had a saying for Paul as well: "it's allowed." She didn't judge him for having feelings. When Paul was starting out with John, John didn't judge him for having feelings either.

I think the difference between Paul's love for Linda and his love for John is that Paul trusted Linda more. John was someone that Paul loved deeply but by the time Linda came along, Paul could only safely love John from a distance. The LSD hysteria, the heroine, the Yoko shit, it was all too much and Paul couldn't keep standing next to the blast furnace. Who fucking would? It's not fair but the addict's lot in life is to drive away everyone who loves them until they are alone.

Linda was someone more worldly and she already survived a failed marriage. John at that point was prone to severe mood swings and hysterical outbursts; Linda notably was not. When you're in Paul's situation and you see a sane person who isn't calling himself Jesus Christ reborn and who isn't trying to foist some weird avante garde artist on you? You cling to that lifeboat. Linda wasn't going to stab Paul in the back for money, she wasn't going to call Paul's lawyer racial slurs, she didn't bitch and whine that everyone was an evil racist that was trying to stop her from being with her twoo wuv. Linda in many ways was very similar to pre-drug addiction John Lennon: she knew what she wanted and she went after it.

Paul was able to love her up close because he trusted her more and because she demonstrated that he could trust her. Paul did love John but it was something he did at a distance which frankly was the only thing he could possibly do. John was a black hole of vanity and selfishness that was dragging everyone down with him which is why George got out while he could and Ringo made sure to live far away.

Part of John and Paul coming back together would have included John getting sober and proving that he could stay sober, that he was committed to sobriety for sobriety's sake, and that he wasn't going to go off the rails trying to sabotage Paul's career while Paul was trying to provide for his children. Otherwise Paul should have and would have kept a distance and refused to commit to anything interesting. I think Paul learned his lesson when he showed up to the Dakota and John turned him away saying "you can't just show up like its Liverpool in the 1950s."

That's another key difference between Paul loving Linda and loving John. Linda actually wanted Paul around, John didn't. Paul loved Linda actively and loved John passively.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

ARAMINTA: So here we are!

LILAC: Wait - is that thing getting closer? Will I have to ride it?

ARAMINTA: No, you won’t have to ride her. Duchess is only here because she hasn’t quite maxed out TEMPERAMENT, and Dodo’s getting tense moodlets from his lack of skill building. They’re working together.

LILAC: He’s still a Slob?

ARAMINTA: Anyways. 

LILAC: So he’s still a Slob.

ARAMINTA: Welcome back to the third in our series of gardenside chats, where we will be discussing what’s different about Round One-

LILAC: And whether my sanity will survive the journey.

ARAMINTA: Now this will be the first time when eliminations occur. Once all the households are played, a final points table will be tallied, and we will unfortunately have to bid a sad farewell to three contestants.

LILAC: Oh, I can think of one or two who you wouldn’t be sad about.

ARAMINTA: It’s about who you take to, Lilac, not me. This will also be the first round where a skill building system comes into play. Basically at the end of your household’s rotation, your total sum of skills will be added up, and they will count towards your points along with friendship and romance.

LILAC: And while I obviously can’t be eliminated - although it would make quite a plot twist if I was - my skills have been cheated back down to zero too. Apart from PAINTING and KNITTING since those are tied to already completed aspirations, and WELLNESS since I have a glitch where I won’t run anywhere.

ARAMINTA: Also since this is the first time contestants will be playable for the Watcher, we will learn what they think of you in terms of attraction level.

LILAC: Oh, I have a pretty good indication already. (winks)

ARAMINTA: Attraction level as well as compatibility and sentiments will also remain. As the Watcher is using the time decayed version of First Impressions, those sentiments will eventually fade - with hopefully new ones to replace them.

LILAC: So in sum, a contestant’s score will come from friendship, romance, skill, attraction, compatibility and any positive sentiments?

ARAMINTA: Exactly. Moving on - we have some viewer submitted questions. This one is for Lilac - alright, don’t be concerned with what my feelings may be. 

LILAC: You are a precious blonde pony and we should always be concerned with your feelings.

ARAMINTA: Thank you, but please don’t worry. On Mad About Dodo, did you want me to win?

LILAC: Initially, no. It’s not that I didn’t want you to win, but that I took time to warm to you.

ARAMINTA: (wryly) That I hear a lot.

LILAC: What won me over was the second day, when Dodo made a joke that was uncomfortable for Lyric and you called him out. I thought ‘okay, this girl is genuine. She has principles - she’s not just telling Dodo what he wants to hear. She’s not afraid to risk her place in the competition to do what she thinks is right.’ And maybe he thought as much too.

ARAMINTA: He wouldn’t have meant to make them uncomfortable. But I wanted him to apologise, or at least to not make jokes like that to them ever again.

LILAC: And you weren’t even that close to Lyric, were you?

ARAMINTA: I liked them, and have a lot of admiration and respect for them. However I didn’t bond with them as much as I did some others. Perhaps if we had spent more time together.

LILAC: We’ve seen how saying anything other than someone being your best friend forever can get twisted, but nothing wrong with that. If anything it’s more admirable that you stepped up for someone else when you had a much stronger bond with Dodo at the time.

ARAMINTA: Awww, thank you so much, Lilac! Next question: which contestants are you looking forward to spending more time with the most?

LILAC: Basically anyone who I felt like I still didn’t have a sense of after the introductions, though I get that three hours in front of live cameras isn’t exactly the most natural and authentic setting in the world. Piper - I’ll be looking to see if there’s a spark. We vibed but we had no romance at the end of our time, although it’s very early in the competition still.

ARAMINTA: Exactly. I had no romance with Dodo at the end of his introductory round, as did a lot of other castmates who eventually fared well.

LILAC: Well you had Leo to contend with. If ‘buzzkill’ were a pixel…

ARAMINTA: (laughs) He’s not so bad.

LILAC: Neither is bacteria in small quantities. Another is Sage. I feel like she was a bit… intimidated, maybe? Hopefully she’ll be more at home once we’re together in a household. Okay, question for you now. What advice will you give to the contestants?

ARAMINTA: Make friends. Not out of some kind of strategy - this isn’t Simsvivor - but because this is such an unique experience, and you’ll want to have people through the other side who get it. Also life will just be easier for you and you’ll have less regrets if you do. 

LILAC: Right. Plus I’m only one Sim so you’re gonna need to fill your social meter in other ways. Also being LOYAL traited, I’m looking not just at how someone gets along with me - but how they treat everyone else around them.

ARAMINTA: (silence)

LILAC: I am, Minta - I swear! (laughs) Trust me, I know the difference between what I’m looking for in a partner and someone who may or may not be a good-

ARAMINTA: And sometimes a pixel simply needs a change of scenery to make life changes. One of the most important things I learned from Mad About Dodo is that not everyone comes into their save file with the ideal set of circumstances for them to thrive.

LILAC: Oh, thriving at villainy is still thriving. And another for you: why did you take this gig?

ARAMINTA: While I don’t think it was down to any malice, I felt like the contestants on Mad About Dodo could have - and should have - been better protected.

LILAC: Yeah, you were in the hands of a megalomaniac who viewed you all as dolls from his toy box and had fun with you accordingly.

ARAMINTA: Leo is… impulsive. Not uncaring, but impulsive. And he tends to be more of a ‘big picture’ thinker and not so considerate of the finer details. Anyway, once I learned that a bachelorette would be held in my home world, I wanted to do what I could to ensure that the cast would have a safer experience. With it being in Henford, I felt some kind of… ownership and responsibility, I suppose you could say.

LILAC: Two very foreign concepts to some others.

ARAMINTA: Not being the producer or the director, I won’t have as much pull. As the host, however, I hope that I can be an advocate for the needs of the contestants. Along that note: any concerns so far?

LILAC: The competition has attracted a lot of outdoorsy, country types. Which I get, given- (waves hand at the lot). And they should do well. I’m not concerned about that. But I’m a city girl through and through. There’s something about a place with some… bustle, that makes me come alive in my bones.

ARAMINTA: Normally I’m the anxious one. I think that’s more of a question for the fourth round.

LILAC: I think so too.

ARAMINTA: And if it comes down to that? Well, there’s one residential lot in San Myshuno that isn’t an apartment. Finally: can we deduce anything at all from the introductory round?

LILAC: That you’re a much better host than Leo?

ARAMINTA: (laughs) Oh, too rude!

LILAC: But true! You didn’t completely centre yourself, and you knew when to fade into the background and when to come forward and keep the conversation going. And you didn’t wow-wow with any-

ARAMINTA: And that is all for now! Best of luck to you, Lilac. Just continue to be genuine - and try to have a good time with it. What wasn’t shown so much on screen was that hardships aside, we did also have some fun on the island. This is an adventure and the opportunity of a lifetime, after all.

LILAC: An adventure I can undertake without even leaving my home lot? Perfect for a LAZY sim.

household one: day one should go up at 10 pm* my time

*GMT 10 am |  EST 5 am |  PST 2 am

lyric by @micrathene-w, dodo by @akitasimblr

[absolutefuckingfreak]

pearl + franmaya thoughts

Bridge To The Turnabout is one of absolute favorite ace attorney cases of all time, this isn't really surprising as from what I've seen, its generally considered one of (if not) the best cases. It gives us the best thing that has ever graced this world, assistant Franziska. But also Pearl and Franziska interaction, and this one interaction is basically the foundation for people's interpretations of Pearl's idea of Franziska and Maya being together. And I love it. Some of my favorite plots for Franmaya fics are the ones where Franziska NEEDS to win over the approval of this. Literal child. For the sake of her relationship. Whether it be through Franziska making Pearl think she is so super cool, bonding through hurt/comfort, or Pearl just coming to realize that Franziska makes Maya happy, I absolutely adore when people write and/or make art about it. In canon, Pearl literally just berated Franziska, a grown adult, for being mean to her cousin..and Franziska took that personally. The scene itself is amazing because Franziska would never take criticism like that from anyone. But this 9 year old absolutely tears her apart in a way no one could even DARE to try. But this isn't about that one scene from BTTT that everyone knows about. This is me being stupidly self indulgent over a ship I love. Franziska and Maya being gay for each other aside, I love the dynamic between Franziska and Pearl. In a way, they're just like each other, which leads me to believe that Franziska would truly see herself in Pearl, and want to protect her like she were her own kin. Both prodigies, both destined for something amazing, both having corrupt parents. I feel as though Franziska would look at Pearl and envision a tiny Franziska, wanting to be just like her Papa, incredibly intelligent for being such a young age, and not really knowing any better of the horrors of having to grow up so fast. I think as close as they would become, Pearl would tell Franziska about what her mom was like, to Franziska's horror. I mean, Pearl's autonomy was kind of stripped from her. Maybe that's a stretch but with the way Morgan acted and talked about Pearl, I've always compared them to Rapunzel and Mother Gothel from Tangled. A lot of people hate Manfred Von Karma and believe him to be an abusive father, but I feel like there's reason to believe from multiple sources that he actually loved his kids. But this isn't about him and there's people who have explained this point way better than I ever could. Something I see a lot less is talk about Morgan Fey. Who was willing to kill her own niece so Pearl could take her place. Like her own blood. Back to the Rapunzel and Mother Gothel comparison, Mother Gothel values Rapunzel for her hair and that hair's ability to keep her young. Morgan values Pearl for her absolutely insane psychic abilities, believing she could be the one to put the branch family back on top. She wants to basically live vicariously through her daughter and will absolutely stop at nothing to get her goal achieved. Sucks to suck for her because it doesn't work but it also makes you go what the fuck! Maybe one day I'll make another post after doing a bunch of research on how this could pyschologically fuck up a kid (though I already have some idea). Franziska would absolutely want to protect this kid's innocence. Pearl doesn't know any better, she's a kid. She doesn't fully understand all the adult stuff going on around her and this is touched upon in BTTT. Pearl shouldn't know about all the horrible stuff that goes on in her family. She should literally be playing with dolls and probably learning how to use a whip, this is Franziska after all. This is technically a franmaya post and yet it has mostly been about Franziska and Pearl's friendship because well, I think franmaya needs to be there for Franziska and Pearl to even interact, because it puts that feeling inside of Franziska to have Pearl approve of her like a dad would.

Another thing I wanted to touch on because I cannot form a coherent train of thought even if I tried was the "homophobic Pearl" joke, which is just something I think is funny but also hope people don't actually take as a factual part of her character. Like ironically, yeah that's hilarious. Truly though, Pearl would not be homophobic, obviously?? Like someone could make the argument that Morgan instilled homophobia into her, but also she didn't let her leave the village so I kind of believe Morgan would think she wouldn't have to, if she wanted to even. If she doesn't leave the village how is she gonna learn about different kinds of love. Also Pearl is just, really into romance in general, she believes it to traditionally be between a man and a woman because that's what she's been taught, she's a kid. Also Maya is like, her idol, if she said she liked girls and boys (or just girls depending on how you hc her) then Pearl would gaze at her all starry eyed and go "YOU CAN DO THAT???" and probably think up a bunch of stories about princesses being together. Pearl being included in franmaya sillies is so important to me, Maya watching as two of her favorite people finally get along, Franziska feeling that protective instinct bubble up inside of her at the innocence of this little girl, Pearl coming to terms that Maya loves who she loves, and Franziska isn't as bad as she once was. They are so. Found Family. They matter SO much to me.

[enemiestolovershoe]

JJ Maybank and reader/Y/N/you where he proposes right after high school would be so cute and the fluff is killing me rn

Forever Starts Tonight

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and JJ Maybank are high school sweethearts, inseparable and completely in love. Graduation night brings a beautiful surprise that changes everything.

Words: 1k

Warnings: none

You’d always known JJ Maybank had a charm about him, one that made heads turn and hearts flutter. He was the kind of guy everyone noticed. With his wild blond hair, mischievous blue eyes, and that grin that was equal parts trouble and delight, it was hard not to get swept up in his energy. But you? You had the one thing others didn’t. You had his heart.

It all started sophomore year, on a day that could only be described as chaotic. It was your first beach bonfire, and you’d gone with a few friends, excitement bubbling in your chest. The Pogues were already there—laughing, joking, and having the time of their lives. You’d known of them, but hadn’t really known them. JJ, though, had always stood out. He was loud and unapologetically himself, something you admired from afar.

Somehow, that night, you ended up beside him by the fire, his laughter infectious as he told a story about him and Pope getting chased by a goat on a fishing trip.

“So, you’re telling me the goat just…attacked?” you’d laughed, trying to keep a straight face.

JJ raised his hands in surrender, his grin wide. “I swear! That thing had it out for me. Pope just left me to fend for myself!”

You’d ended up spending the rest of the night with him, talking until the fire was nothing but embers. By the time the sun started to rise, he’d slipped his jacket around your shoulders and walked you home. After that night, JJ was in your life constantly—texting you funny stories, showing up at your door unannounced, even inviting you to hang out with the Pogues. Eventually, somewhere between late-night talks and shared laughs, friendship turned into something more. JJ Maybank wasn’t just the life of the party—he was your best friend, your rock, and the boy who made your heart race.

The whole school noticed when you two got together. JJ Maybank and you, the girl who’d somehow managed to calm his wild spirit. You became the “it” couple. Whether it was cheering him on at soccer games or sitting on the beach together under the stars, you two were inseparable. JJ was a handful—reckless, stubborn, and impulsive—but he loved you fiercely, with a loyalty that was unwavering.

As graduation approached, things felt surreal. You and JJ would often talk about the future, but he’d get this nervous look whenever the subject of life after high school came up. You knew he had his struggles—life hadn’t always been kind to him. But no matter what, you were determined to face it together.

Then, on the night of graduation, JJ surprised you.

After the ceremony, you were standing on the beach, watching the waves crash under the moonlight. JJ had pulled you away from the others, his arm draped over your shoulder as you walked.

“Can you believe we’re done with high school?” you asked, smiling at him.

He shrugged, though there was something different in his eyes. “Kinda crazy, huh? We survived.”

You laughed. “Yeah, and that’s a big deal for you.”

He held his hands up defensively. “Hey, I managed to graduate! With only, like, a few close calls. Don’t I deserve some credit?”

“Fine, fine. You’re basically a genius, Maybank,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

JJ’s face softened as he took your hand, his fingers entwining with yours. “I’m serious, though. I couldn’t have done it without you. I mean, I wouldn’t have even shown up to half of my classes if it wasn’t for you dragging me there.”

“Someone had to keep you out of trouble,” you said, grinning up at him.

JJ took a deep breath, suddenly looking nervous, his gaze fixed on the sand as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“JJ? Are you okay?”

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. “You know… I never thought I’d get this far. And I know I mess up a lot, and maybe I’m not the guy you deserve. But you…you make me better, you know? You’re my everything.”

Your heart raced as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

“JJ…” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hands as tears pricked at your eyes.

He got down on one knee, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t have a lot, and I can’t promise you an easy life. But I can promise you all of me, forever. Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t help the tears that slipped down your cheeks as you nodded, your voice breaking. “Yes, JJ. Yes!”

He grinned, relief and joy written all over his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger. The two of you barely noticed the cheers erupting from your friends, who had been watching from a distance. JJ pulled you into his arms, spinning you around as you laughed.

“You’re stuck with me now, Maybank,” you whispered as he set you down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he murmured, his eyes shining with love.

The night passed in a blur of laughter, tears, and promises of a future filled with love and adventure. And as you stood there, hand in hand with JJ, you knew you’d found your forever.

[ashwhowrites]

Could you please write Nancy x fem!Reader? Nancy is with Jonathan, but her and reader happen to share a bed after a party and they end up hooking up because they are both tipsy. The reader is secretly in love with Nancy and in the morning Nancy pretends nothing happened (guilt/ internalised h*mophobia/ just Nancy being canonic Nancy and not very good at feelings/you name it). They go to a diner to haver breakfast with the rest and Nancy is all over Johnathan and reader feels awful because she feels used and because she feels like she betrayed Johnathan's friendship. She pretends she feels sick (she is), leaves, and ghosts Nancy for weeks which bothers Nancy. Maybe having Nancy be jealous too? And how it ends is totally up to you 🙏

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Nothing to talk about

Y/N never thought the day when she woke up naked to her best friend would happen. She had been bearing feelings for Nancy for years, not that she would ever tell her. And even if she wanted to, Nancy was never alone. First, it was Steve and now it was Jonathan.

Y/N didn't have a feeling that her best friend was gay, so the fact that they had drunk sex last night was mind-blowing. Y/N remembered everything, it felt bittersweet. It felt perfect, and she couldn't believe she had Nancy in the way she always wanted. But she also knew, it would have to be talked about and she feared she wouldn't be enough for Nancy to change her mind about Jonathan. Or about guys in general.

Nancy stirred awake, her eyes landing on Y/N, who gave her a timid smile. Nancy could feel the sheets directly on her skin, dawning on her that she wasn't wearing any clothes.

"We need to meet the rest at the diner in ten minutes," Nancy said as she looked at her watch. Y/N frowned, she didn't think that would be the first thing to come out of her mouth.

They got dressed in silence. Even the car ride was silent. Y/N asked if Nancy wanted to talk about it but all she said was,

"there's nothing to talk about. Nothing happened."

That was a big blow to Y/N's heart. She kept her head down as they arrived. She fought back tears as they walked in. The gang was already there, Y/N squeezed in next to Robin and Nancy sat across from her, next to Jonathan.

Nancy and Jonathan had been having issues in their relationship for a while now, so everyone was shocked to see Nancy all over him at breakfast.

She ignored everyone's eyes, kissing Jonathan or talking in his ear. Her hands never left his body. Steve was slightly uncomfortable, having feelings for Nancy and all. Little did he know, he wasn't the only one in that boat.

Y/N was staring as hard at the menu as she could. Ignoring the voice inside her head telling her to look up. But of course, Jonathan didn't know about the tension in the room, talking to Y/N as if they were best friends, because they kinda were.

Y/N tried her best to talk to him, keeping her voice as strong as she could. Whenever she looked at him, all she could see was Nancy's touch all over him. Y/N couldn't explain what she felt, but she is close to labeling it as heartbreak.

She felt ignored and tossed to the side. They were best friends and she wanted to act like nothing happened. The more she thought about it the more she felt the need to cry.

"You okay?" Robin asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear. If anyone understood the pain she was in, it would be Robin. Yet, she didn't want anyone to know.

"I feel a bit sick. Probably hungover. I think I'm going to head home and sleep." Y/N said, which caught the attention of the table. All eyes were on her as she stood up and raced out of the diner.

Everyone began to question what was going on but Nancy couldn't hear a thing. She stared at the empty spot and tried to ignore the way her stomach twisted and how her throat burned.

~~~

Y/N couldn't face Nancy and she was pissed at her for how she was reacting to everything. Two strong reasons why Y/N distanced herself from her.

She could learn to live with the fact that Nancy regretted it, but she couldn't stomach the idea of them acting like nothing happened. What about how Y/N felt about it? What about what she wanted to do about the situation? Why were her feelings not acknowledged?

At first, it was hard to ghost Nancy. Y/N missed her and hated herself for it. She let the phone ring, not bothering to listen to the voicemails. After a while, Nancy gave up on the phone and started showing up at her house. To which Y/N never answered.

The easy part was that Y/N didn't see Nancy every day anyway, they had their own lives and their own jobs. And it was hard to plan anything together when Y/N refused to see her. It was slowly healing her broken heart.

Whereas Nancy was starting to get extremely pissed off. She didn't understand why Y/N was acting the way she was. She didn't think their night together was that big of a deal and they could easily move past that. Nancy felt guilty whenever she was with Jonathan, and she didn't know how to make the feeling go away. And the one person she wanted to talk about it with was ignoring her.

~~~

Nancy's birthday party arrived and Nancy had a gut feeling Y/N would show up. They hadn't talked in weeks and she planned to get to the bottom of it tonight.

Once Nancy landed her eyes on Y/N, she headed right for her. She grabbed the girl's hand and dragged her to her bedroom.

"Jesus!" Y/N groaned, yanking her hand free.

Nancy slammed the door and turned around with anger in her eyes. "Why are you ignoring me?"

"Nance, I don't want to talk about this," Y/N sighed.

"I don't care! I miss my best friend. I've needed my best friend and she's nowhere to be seen."

"Because it's always what you want, Nancy!" Y/N stressed. "You are so selfish and blinded by your own feelings that you forget others can feel shit too."

"What are you talking about?" Nancy scoffed. She didn't react well to being called selfish.

"You need your best friend for what? Bullshit relationship advice? Need help with ideas of how to lie to your boyfriend? What about how I feel, Nancy? What if being your best friend is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

Nancy blinked away at her tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was so horrible to be around!" Nancy argued. "But I needed MY FRIEND!"

"I CAN'T BE YOUR FRIEND, NANCY! DON'T YOU GET IT?" Y/N cried, "I can't give you advice about Jonathan because I don't want you to be with him."

"What? Why?" Nancy asked, Jonathan was by far a better boyfriend than Steve.

"Because I want you to be with me," Y/N admitted. She sighed and closed her eyes, her biggest secret was now in the world. She opened her eyes and sniffled. Nancy stood frozen and in shock. "I thought you cared about me," Y/N wept. "You used me and my body and told me it meant nothing. You can lie to Jonathan and look like the perfect girlfriend, but I'm not going to help you."

"Y/N...I...I didn't know," Nancy stuttered.

"How could you know, you never asked."

Nancy deflated in defeat. She was too selfish to see how much she hurt her best friend. She kept making stupid decisions and only cleared her self-consciousness.

"I wish I could say it back," Nancy cried. She sobbed into her hand as she watched Y/N flinch. "I'm so sorry I've been hurting you and wish I felt the way you want me to but I-I love him."

Y/N nodded as she kept back as many sobs as she could.

"I can't be your friend anymore, Nance. It's time I protect myself," Y/N sniffled. She walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. Nancy gripped her tight and let her tears fall.

Y/N pulled away and offered a small smile. "Maybe once I'm healed, I can be a friend again."

"I'd like that," Nancy smiled. She cried as she watched Y/N leave the room.

~~~

Nancy tried to throw herself into Jonathan as much as she could. She hoped it would erase the loss she felt. Y/N was living her life, moving on from Nancy.

Nancy heard from around that Y/N and Robin started seeing each other. Nancy wasn't sure how to take the news but shrugged it off. It was easy to ignore it all, but it hurt like hell when Nancy saw it with her own eyes.

She watched as Y/N held Robin's hand, both lost in their own world. Nancy felt this heat in her chest and her pulse pounding in her ears.

Was she jealous?

And if she was... What the hell did that mean?

[americanwh0rerstory]

The morning after [cherik]

charles xavier X erik lehnsherr

SUMMARY: after an ‘intense’ night together, charles begins to have some deep thoughts

WARNINGS: homosexuality

A/N: AUGH I LOVE THESE GAY MEN SO MUCH

NO NSFW ^_^

charles stood in the shared kitchen, shakily stirring his coffee whilst waiting for erik to wake up. it was a long night, and charles would be lying if he said he could walk straight right now.

he stirred the coffee, watching as the milk blends with the coffee beans, however it’s only when the spoon continued to spin after he let go that he was aware of his lover standing in the doorway

with lipstick smeared over his face from the previous nights and remnants over charles face and neck, erik leaned against the wooden doorframe with his hand slightly extended to control the spoon

“i’d have made coffee for you, you can go back to bed” erik says in an uncharacteristic soft tone, looking at the worn out charles

“no it’s fine, i’ll make you a cup too” charles replies as he began to pour erik’s cup of coffee, regaining control of the spoon from his partner

whilst stirring the coffee his mind wandered, thinking about him and erik. was it love? surely it was, the way they interacted sure seemed like love. or was it just platonic? did erik just want a friends with benefits situation? hopefully not, charles wouldn’t be able to handle it if erik left. yes, he was independant, but a world without erik seemed almost unbearable

he was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice erik stand behind him, feeling erik’s arms encircle his waist and his head resting on charles’ shoulder

“you need to rest, darling” erik murmurs into charles’ skin. “somethings clearly bothering you so how about we lay in bed, drink out coffee, and you tell me what’s going on”

charles muttered a soft agreement and finished making the coffees, taking it into the bedroom they both shared before he began to open up. he never liked opening up, but he had to know what erik was thinking. he didn’t want to use his mutation, but would it really be bad if he did?

“do you love me? romantically, i mean. or is this just an extension on our friendship?” charles asks as he sits on his side of the bed, looking at erik over the rim of his mug

“why ask questions you already know the answer too, sweetheart?” erik asked in response, the petname rolling naturally off his tongue as though it was honey. he gulped down some of his coffee before continuing. “you’ve always been the closest person to me, why would i ever feel anything less than love for you?”

he set his mug down and pulled charles closer to him, the latter’s head resting on the former’s chest. erik’s hands weaved in charles’ hair, playing with the strands in an attempt to soothe him. “i love you, charles. even if i don’t say it, you know i do. and if you ever doubt it then there’s nothing stopping you looking in my head”

charles sighs gently with content, relaxing into erik’s touch as they laid on the bed together. “i love you more” he says in a half whisper, closing his eyes as he cuddled into erik. “even when you’re covered in lipstick”

[bluestsdays]

he’s right— it was a bad idea. a terrible, irresponsible one that she should feel guilty for suggesting. she should want to call fletcher right now and try to work things out, to even think of him, in the first place, but she doesn’t. he’s so far from her mind whenever she’s looking at miller, as if doesn’t even exist at all. and she knows that’s awful, to forget fletcher and eden, to be so willing to fall back into another’s arms, but this wasn’t just anyone— it was him. the only person she could ever want, the one she thought about every night, before falling asleep with his book in her hands, the one she couldn’t help but think of every morning in her bathroom, remembering how it was the first place they ever said i love you. there were pieces of him embedded within her that would be there forever, while fletcher barely even scratched the surface. she can’t seem to rationalize any of it, though, not when she’s driven by something stronger than logic and reason— love. still, she knows there’s a lot to lose here, not only just their relationships with other people, but their friendship, too, that they’ve so carefully cultivated since they broke up, apart from all the minor hitches. that was bound to happen, though, with their history, with a bond like theirs. there would never be a clean break, a day that passes where she doesn’t think of him somehow. she considers it a good sign that he doesn’t pull away from her, now, that he’s not already halfway down the block, like he probably should be, considering. no, he’s actually moving closer, leaning into her touch, staring at her lips in the exact way she was staring at his, admitting that he, too, has wanted to kiss her all night long. yeah, she’s completely and utterly fucked. she can hardly stand it, hands shaking with need, heart racing in her chest, lips and fingertips buzzing. “ yeah, you probably should, ” she begins, yet she’s not backing away either, merely looking up at him in that familiar way she used to, during moments like this. “ but i don’t want that, and i don’t think you do, either, ” the thumb at his jaw slides down, then, cradling his chin for a moment, before running along his bottom lip. “ i don’t want you to go. ” she didn’t want to tell him goodbye, watch him walk away from her, just yet. and she knows it’s wrong, pressed so tightly against him, so close she swears she can feel his heartbeat against her own, but she doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to turn away— maybe his teasing rang true, and she really was a bad influence, but fuck it. thumb drops from his lip, then, as she leans forward, closing that gap, mouth grazing over his. “ just one more time, ” she whispers against him, not sure if it’s more a plea or a concession. her lips just barely catch his, then, but she waits, albeit impatiently, for a sign that he agrees, too, that this was okay, for one more time.

they don't need to say much, on their walk back to her apartment. in fact, it's as if their silence says it all, a testament to the understanding, the comfort, that runs between them, tying them together. and he doesn't doubt, as they both retreat into their own minds, in sync with one another, that they're both considering the same things— that this was once a part of their normal routine, returning to a place he once considered home, too. being with her had been the first time a sensation like that had hit him; the idea of belonging, of having somewhere to return to, to call a home. now, it was purely her space, four walls that no longer had any remnants of him, of their life together, that she shared with someone else, now— in her kitchen, helping her make dinner; in her bed, falling asleep beside her each night. and as much as he should be considering those they've chosen to share those pieces of themselves with, he can admit that fletcher and eden are far from his mind, especially when her arm is linked with his own, when her hand eventually finds his, too, and he's intertwining their fingers together without so much as a second thought. the gravity of the moment isn't lost on him, once they reach her building, as they stand there, seemingly neither one of them wanting to say goodbye, just yet. at least, he can't stomach the idea, not when it feels like he's finally gotten her back, able to share her night with her, despite how it turned out, in the end. the intensity of the moment is palpable, unspoken words and yearning glances, dancing around them, and the warmth of her hand, cradling his jaw, only intensifies his desire to kiss her, as the touch sears into his skin. makes it known, as his gaze dips to her mouth, tracing their outline, wondering briefly, how obvious his intentions might be, if he says yes to her question. he's torn, though, even if his desires feel like a raging river, threatening to break its banks— his mind reels with the what-ids and the fear of losing her friendship, just as he had, the last time he found himself inside; of ruining the fragile balance they've managed to maintain recently. the question hangs in the air, thick and unspoken, as his eyes search hers, as if he could find permission, there, consent to let go of the restraint he's held onto for so long. " it probably is, " he admits, a small shrug rolling off his shoulders. a bad idea, that is. it's definitely a complicated one, at the very least. he doesn't pull away from her touch though, instead leans into it slightly, as if savouring the warmth it exudes. " but i don't want to say goodbye, not yet, not like this... i just— " finds that he steps closer, then, until there's barely a crack of light between them, heart thudding in his chest, close enough, now, that he's certain she'll be able to sense it, hear it, gaze upon her lips, once more. " i don't think i can come upstairs without wanting to kiss you, just like i've thought about, all night long. and that's... that's overstepping so many boundaries, i know, which is why i don't think i should, and— " he's rambling now. " i should probably just go back to my room, yeah? "

[lucabyte]

So does anybody else ever think about how Loop felt the need to demonstrate that the party's deaths wouldn't have any effect on the loops. I know I do but that's besides the point. Anyway I don't think Loop actually needs to bathe, they just like to feel included.

[puppyeared]

learning abt friendship decay and "not reaching out to your friends for months at a time unprompted is not neurotypical behaviour" has me feeling a certain way

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

"Jason was the happy robin" this, "jason was the angry robin" that. Let's all be fully honest here Jason was the lonely robin

[teamfortresstwo]

Okay, I still do disagree with these points, though seeing it from Odysseus’s perspective does make sense why he might not see Eurylochus as close as others on this list .

My thoughts are that, I don’t think neither we as the audience are meant to nor does Odysseus view Eurylochus wanting to leave Circe’s island as equally morally reprehensible to Scylla’s lair. Odysseus says they should try to save them, but I think people are meant to recognize that this is ultimately a very idealistic way of looking at things, spurred on by him still clinging to the few people he has left in the wake of losing a close friend to him. The fact that it works out is luck, and it’s not something anyone could’ve predicted with the information they had at the time. Scylla’s cave was something Odysseus knew was going to happen.

Also, Eurylochus has a role as the voice of the crew. He’s essentially obligated to listen to them, which is why I think he does a lot of the things he does. Even if he might understand why Odysseus does what he does, if the crew disagrees, then he cannot allow it to continue. Even if it’s rational, even if he would’ve done the same, he doesn’t get that decision and he doesn’t think Odysseus should either. Maybe if Odysseus told the crew what was going on they would’ve agreed with the sacrifice or come up with something else or even straight up given up, but that wasn’t a choice Odysseus should’ve taken away from them, and I think that’s the part that causes Eurylochus so much rage.

I think this is also part of why Eurylochus chooses to have his confrontation out in the open. I wouldn’t say he’s planting seeds of doubt, so much as he’s voicing the doubt that’s already there. Because while I think he would handle personal matters in private, this isn’t a personal matter. It’s not between him and Odysseus, but Odysseus and the crew. If the crew needs to have their doubts quelled by the captain, someone must be willing to voice those doubts. That’s why I think the wind bag situation ultimately happened. There was so much tension with no productive way of resolving it because Odysseus had practically silenced all doubt.

Having said all that, I also know that the point of the poll was which of these characters Odysseus sees as his best friend. While I can justify his actions left and right, I can’t deny they hurt Odysseus.

But I still stand by the fact that Eurylochus was his best friend. Because yes, despite the self isolation, despite the breaking of trust, despite flat out ignoring eachother on multiple occasions, they are practically the only people the other really has for the majority of the musical. Polites dies early on, Athena leaves, Hermes isn’t here practically at all, we haven’t even seen Penelope yet, but Eurylochus is a constant presence.

A lot of Eurylochus’s actions are motivated by his concern for Odysseus- him opening the bag was, in my opinion, done both because of the urging of the crew and his concern for his friend. Him wanting to leave Circe’s island was because he didn’t want to endanger his friend.

And Odysseus in turn shows great affection for Eurylochus- “There’s no length I wouldn’t go, if it was you I had to save.” And the ways that even after he basically tells Eurylochus to shut up and fall in line, he doesn’t even scold him when he goes against that command. He settles his friend’s worries to the best of his ability because he still cares about him.

It’s only after monster, when Odysseus basically throws away any attachment he has to anyone that isn’t his wife and son that their friendship truly starts to fall apart, but at that point I doubt any of Odysseus’s relationships could’ve survived . (Except for Penelope, ofc.) Eurylochus is stuck doing his job, putting the crew above everything else, and Odysseus is stuck with his self preservation, putting getting home above everything else. And yeah, even at this point in time, when everything sucks so fucking bad, they care about eachother.

Odysseus tries to stop Eurylochus from eating the cow out of concern for his friend. Odysseus is clearly absolutely wrecked by the loss of his friend. And Eurylochus is so resigned because he does understand Odysseus. And, in my opinion again since a lot of music is subjective even relative to most art, in his voice, I can detect no blame. He’s just tired, and he’s come to terms with death. And I dont think he blamed Odysseus for his decision, or was angry about it. In the end, they both forgave eachother, because they did care for eachother, and neither wanted to spend their last moments together in hatred. The tragedy is that it didn’t matter, and they were doomed anyways.

So yeah um . I still don’t know if this is cohesive but . That’s basically why I think out of everyone listed, Eurylochus is still the best candidate to be Odysseus’s best friend of the given options, at least at this point in the story, given the things we know.