#which girl 1 is conflicted about

[specialneedz]

i went off with this accidentally but it's a cool idea

Put your music on shuffle, play 5-10 songs and you have to make a musical with them, reblog and put the songs in the tags and how you would turn them into a cohesive story.

[haemosexuality]

my mom wont let me get tattoos. so i wont cuz i dont wanna Destroy our relationship. but. i am a legal adult. and ive got money. theres a devil in my shoulder saying "just get an underboob tattoo she will literally never figure it out"

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

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[trashpremiium]

my brain just supplied me with the term “romantic passing” and like. what do i do with that

[ot3]

top 10 pokemon that are girls

'gender'.... much like 'animals' this is a concept from our world that has made itself present in the pokemon franchise. all pokemon began having genders (except for the ones that don't) in the second generation of games, in order to facilitate the pokemon breeding mechanic which has become a staple of the main series

you may think this means the issue of which pokemon are girls and which ones aren't is already settled. but do we really trust game freak to be the deciding voices on this one? i certainly don't. so here's a nonexhaustive look at some pokemon that are doing their best to be role models for young women everywhere who have been picking up and enjoying these games for decades.

#10 - NIDORAN♀

Not only is Nidoran♀ canonically a girl, she is the first pokemon to be canonically a girl as the gender distinction between Nidoran types predates the introduction of gen 2's breeding system that gendered all pokemon. she broke the glass ceiling, and for this we salute her.

#9 - KANGASKHAN

Both culturally and in media single mothers are subject to a lot of scrutiny and scorn, but kangaskhan breaks the mold. powerful, responsible, yet loving and joy-filled. the look on her baby's face tells us all we need to know; she holds on tight to the pouch, clinging to the safety she knows her mother can give her, but gazes awestruck and wide-eyed at the world around her, knowing its wonders will be there waiting for her as soon as she feels ready for it.

#8 - CELESTEELA

Technically, celesteela's gender is 'unknown', but it's obvious that celesteela represents what life can look like for a woman who truly has it all. As one of the largest and heaviest pokemon ever discovered, she's not afraid to take up space. she doesn't feel the need to soften herself to be more accepted by the world around her, but she's also comfortable enough with her feminine side to let it shine through where and when she wants. nobody tells her how to live her life but her and also she has big lazers

#7 - MISMAGIUS

Well she's not called MISTER magius now, is she?

#6 - LYCANROC

Perfect embodiment of the wolfgirl you knew (or, perhaps were?) in middleschool. There are many doglike/canine pokemon in the dex, but something about lycanroc's exaggerated unkempt mane and lanky, awkward posture evokes the physicality of a teenager who exists as a beast beyond the boundaries of her own body.

#5 - CHIKORITA

This saultry little binch...

#4 - RAYQUAZA

It's an uncomfortable truth in life that many women find themselves in the position of needing to play the mediator in order to stop the people around them from acting in destructive or harmful ways. But just because mediating conflict can be a difficult and unfair position to be put into, that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Rayquaza just goes to show us all everywhere how a real woman can still thrive under these circumstances, doing her best to build a more peaceful world while not letting that push her into the shadows or make her take a back seat in her own life. she is a community leader and an innovator.

#3 - SALAZZLE

She's the archetypal femme fatale. A dominatrix. A baddie. Does she make me uncomfortable? Yes, absolutely. But I'm not a furry so I'm not really the target audience of what's happening here.

#2 - SLAKING

I know so many butches who look exactly like her. you love to see it.

#1 - MEWTWO

as one feminist philosopher has said: "I see now that the circumstances of one's birth is irrelevant, it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

I think any woman living in a patriarchal society can sympathize with mewtwo's story. enraged at being treated like the property of the people who created her rather than her own fully realized person, she goes on a rampage where it quickly becomes obvious that she is even more powerful than that what she was originally created in the image of. Although this takes her down a dark path, she eventually learns to self-actualize by working on herself rather than pointlessly lashing out at people who had nothing to do with hurting her. it's empowering stuff. doubly empowering because she killed all those clowns who DID hurt her

now, of course, there are plenty more pokemon that are girls than just what i've listed here today. but i hope youve learned a little something from this.

[lovelettersfromluna]

Dream Girl

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

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

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

Read part 1 here!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was all just too fucking hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hi

I’m sorry I haven’t responded.

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

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

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

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

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

That sounds great.

I’ll meet you there

Cool :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was almost like magic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made you wish this was all a dream.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As friends” she affirms gently.

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

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

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

Your mind was in absolute shambles.

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

That was until you got home.

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

You couldn’t sleep a wink.

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

None of that ever came.

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

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

You couldn’t do that to Ellie.

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

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

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

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

Ellie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would they think of your divorce?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When you don’t speak, she continues.

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

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

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

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

The both of them owe you nothing.

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

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

You can practically feel the happiness radiating off of her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was just as you suspected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you need to get rid of her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And soon it all starts making sense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Begging for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Ellie?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widen in realization.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart feels like it’ll just burst.

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

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

And suddenly, you see colors.

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

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

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

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

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

[serial-unaliver]

misconceptions about narcissism

made by a girl with "borderline personality disorder with narcissistic traits" considered treatment resistant

1. narcissists think they're extremely attractive

focus on appearance in narcissism is a result of insecurity and need for control. a narcissist who expresses self-obsession regarding appearance is doing so to preemptively prevent others from thinking they're insecure and vulnerable.

2. narcissists are unfeeling

really not sure why anyone thinks this as 'feeling' is incredibly easily triggered in narcissism. with fear of being taken advantage of by others, narcissists will over-analyze people's behavior and (often incorrectly) assume they are being slighted in some way.

3. narcissists are ceos and political leaders

a narcissistic personality actually hinders your ability to advance in your career as you become focused first and foremost on whether or not your coworkers see you as vulnerable. a competitive environment is highly triggering and ends up creating many enemies as others see through the facade.

4. men are more often narcissists than women

confusing misogyny for narcissism--does your ex have a narcissistic personality when not with women? does he express the same level of entitlement and assert superiority when with male friends? if he is able to maintain relationships and not debilitated by narcissistic traits, he's just a garden variety misogynist.

5. narcissism is a mental illness

no one is born with a narcissistic personality, it is developed to cope with and defend oneself from a toxic or abusive environment, just like every other cluster b "personality disorder". narcissism at its core is fear of appearing vulnerable. this leads to fixation on control over others and crafting a confident facade.

6. everything a narcissist does in a relationship is meant to manipulate you

i've seen this said SO much and it's just not true. narcissism is triggered in specific circumstances, and narcissists have incentives for treating someone kindly outside manipulation even if these incentives may be more focused on self-benefit--and in my personal opinion incentive doesn't matter if the resulting behavior is a net positive.

7. narcissists raise narcissists

if a narcissistic parent is abusive the child could develop a narcissistic personality in response, but this is not a given or specific to narcissism.

8. you can tell someone is a narcissist when their eyes darken

what is being referred to here is a result of adrenaline that literally happens to all humans. your pupils will dilate when your adrenaline is raised, which can happen during conflict involving intense emotions...so yes, someone's eyes can 'darken' when angry, but it's a human thing, not a narcissist thing.

now that the post is over, PSA: if you're one of the idiots on here who thinks anything other than praise of cluster b personalities is ableism please just block me instead of bothering me with your comments!

[astrow0rldx]

pac 18+ their sexual desires for you

one

"In the bed all day, bed all day, bed all day. Fuckin' and fightin' on It's our paradise and it's our war zone It's our paradise and it's our war zone". could be in a relationship already, or they desire to court you, take you on a date, outside walking, living together, cutesy romantic things. someone could have hurt someone, now they want to fight you back sexually. or just hurt you in the bedroom, mentally and physically. they could desire you to be this siren coquette person, where your mysterious and don't show to much affection or care for them. play mind games on them. which may be your reaction to getting hurt, or what's hurting them. but at the end of the day they want to feel tied to you, committed to you and your where home is. a lot of people have that taste in relationships, where they don't want all of them unconsciously, but they want them to be theirs. but this fight in the bedroom, is going to be chaotic, and may want to use handcuffs, ropes, etc. even risky sex where it's so much fire passion you have a baby, now you are trapped. they could want to keep this relationship professional, or surface level in a sense, take it as it resonates. they want to fuck and argue like married couples though, but them being the one you come to too fuck on a bad day and you come to them about all your problems. any type of psychological problems you have, they want to fuck it out of you, they want to see it come out while your fucking, they want to fuck you in the state of being so hurt and broken you don't even want to fuck. but whats coming through strongly is the surface level, mysteriousness, detachment, & professionalism of the connection, the conflict and heartbreak of it, and realizations that is prominent in their sexual desires.

two

they could be dreaming about you, delusional, fantasizing. trying to control and tame themself because you are so fucking sexy. they could be thinking about undressing you and exploring your body. they could desire foreplay, going out to eat, or making food for you. kissing, making out, hugging, on top, bodies together then he gets to slowly undress you. you could be kind of perfect to them, or like they met their match. because they have a lot of ideas, and imaginary energy when it comes to you. in an animalistic, passionate way. they desire to uncover your mystery, see your wild side. exchange kinks. see how you would look with their dick in you mouth. see what it would be like if y'all started a competitive, bratty game and fucked till both of you guys was timed out, but the sex be so playful, expressing, fun, and bright. they want to balance their emotional side with their sexual side. after care, dates, making food for you, helping you with your clothes. even making family stuff, mom/dad/kid involved. them being the daddy. my advice, that outside of the question, make them wait lol. be more teasing till the finish line.

three

im getting a vibe of we about to get some shit straight type of sex. you don't know what i'm going to do to you when i see you. maybe for some they are proving their loyalty and how much they are standing on business for you. when you get inside the bed they are going to be persistent, long lasting, stamina. very excited to see you, celebratory sex. the adrenaline of like sneaky link type of sex "this shit feel like teenage fever". "who came to make sweet love..not me. when we... fuck". they say but they desire to transform something with this sex, maybe they desire to come back into contact with you and kind of hesitant, but they desire you. for most of you they kind of want to be in and out of your life, coming and going when they please and you still being (one) of their girls. but they want both parties to be chill on their own in their own life. but for some it is an energy of being no contact, or at a distance. maybe needing some type of travel, or time and building to get to a certain place. and they kind of desire the ability to be at peace with you. they could desire helping you in a certain way, financially, sexually, or just with love when your feeling a lack of it and be each other peace of mind/sex. bring peace and material abundance so you can be good on your own feeling satisfied.

[infiniteglitterfall]

Uggghhh, what is UP with Canada?!

In Vancouver, the Schara Tzedeck synagogue's windows were smashed on April 19th.

In Toronto on April 19, five windows at the Kehillat Shaarei Torah synagogue were smashed with a hammer.

In Toronto on April 26, someone set a sign on fire at Beth Tikvah Synagogue....

....And again on April 28.

In Toronto in May, Jewish community members started escorting a kid to school because he was being bullied by peers who told him, "We're going to do to you what Hamas did to Israel," pushed him, kicked him, threw stones at him, and told him, "we need to kill you." This had been going on for six months. (His family had gone to both the school and police repeatedly at this point and it had only escalated; the kids throwing stones at him on the way to school was new.)

In Toronto on May 17th, Kehillat Shaarei Torah's windows were smashed again.

On May 25th before dawn, two people shot at Bais Chaya Muska, a Jewish girls' school in Toronto.

On May 29th, in the middle of the night, someone shot at the Belz Yeshiva Ketana school in Montreal.

In Vancouver on May 30, someone poured fuel on the doors of the Schara Tzedeck synagogue, then firebombed them.

In an article on June 7, Rabbi Lisa Grushcow of Emanu-El-Beth Sholom synagogue in Montreal said people have yelled “Hitler was right!” and “Jew!” at her congregants as they arrive for Shabbat services and that Jewish kids are being bullied in local schools.

On June 1 in Toronto, a man smashed the window of the Anshei Minsk synagogue with a rock.

On June 3 in Kitchener, someone smashed the front door of Beth Jacob synagogue.

On June 19th in Montreal, three small bullet-like holes were somehow made in the windows of Falafel Yoni. (I don't know, all the articles go out of their way to say they don't know WHAT made the holes.) Falafel Yoni is owned by a Jewish man who was born in Israel, and has appeared on boycott lists despite the owner never having said anything political about Israel.

On the same day, down the street from Falafel Yoni, someone smashed the windows of a nearby gym whose co-owner is Jewish and had also been born in Israel.

On June 30 in Toronto, someone threw stones at the Pride of Israel synagogue, then at Kehillat Shaarei Torah, smashing windows (again) in the latter.

On the weekend of July 27th, a father and son in Toronto were arrested for planning a terrorist attack and murder on behalf of ISIL, which is wild.

On July 29th, someone torched a bus belonging to the Bobov Hassidic school in Toronto.

And smashed the windows of a DIFFERENT Jewish school in Toronto, Leo Baeck Jewish Day School, and set it on fire.

On July 31 in Toronto, guess which synagogue had three signs set on fire? That's right: Kehillat Shaarei Torah.

Plus one sign set afire at Toronto's Temple Sinai Congregation the same night, presumably by the same arsonist, who might even have been the stone-hurler of June 30.

There are probably ones I missed. Just putting this list together took like three hours, though. I kept having to go, "Wait, surely that can't be the same synagogue AGAIN" and "they only mention the closest major intersection, which one was this?!" and "that can't be a different one, how many windows did they smash??" and go look for more sources. Plus a couple of articles were giving conflicting dates for one of the incidents.

And nobody ever gives actual dates, they just say shit like, "Blah blah blah was reported Monday...." so I have to look at the article date and then look at a damn calendar.

I went back as far as April because everything I found was referring to earlier incidents. Back to April. February and March were relatively quiet, at least in the news. Although interestingly, February is when the most hate crimes in Toronto had been reported, at least as of ... oh, I see.

As of March.

On the bright side, I did discover that Kehillat Shaarei Torah consistently has great jokes on its sign.

[vienssunshine]

The dialogues you write for maki are so goddamn heavenly, please, what is it like when her girl squirts on her glasses (bonus if in the next morning, everyone in the dormitory heard them)? 😣🙏

Just Can't Focus

pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader nsfw: semi-public sex, cunnilingus, squirting word count: 1.8k author’s note: thank you so much for the request! you're so sweet!! i had a lot of fun adapting your request into a fic, hope you enjoy! also, maki looked so good in the latest episode. i need her... description: something about watching you train gets maki so riled up.

The day has been long. 

Nothing slows down time quite like having to hold a plank, and Gojo, who’s in charge of training you and your peers today, has been making the hours crawl by with countless strength training exercises. Your core is aching and your legs feel like they’re about to give out, which is why it feels a blessing when your teacher gets a phone call that pulls him away into a meeting with the higher-ups.

“Pair up and find a place around campus to practice sparring while I’m gone,” Gojo instructs, “We’ll meet back up in 30. Don’t forget to have fun!” He waves as he heads towards the school, leaving you and the other exhausted students alone in the field.

Nobara turns her head to you, about to speak, when an arm interlocks with yours. You look to your side to see that Maki has claimed you as her partner.

“Maki!” Nobara huffs, “I wanted to spar with her.”

Maki shrugs. “Be quicker then.” 

Nobara’s face darkens with a scowl and you hurry to resolve the conflict. “I’ll spar with you next time,” you tell Nobara, “Promise.”

“You better.” She crosses her arms and walks towards the other sorcerers, annoyed she’ll have to partner up with either idiot #1 or idiot #2 (Yuuji or Megumi). 

“Let’s go find a spot,” Maki says, though she begins pulling you off towards a forest nearby, seemingly already having a place in mind. 

Soon you’re past the tree line, and before you can get a word out about the sparring drill, your back is pressed up against a tree and Maki’s lips are on yours. 

It catches you by surprise—Maki tends to be unpredictable, a reason why it’s hard for you to beat her in a match—but it’s instinctive how you fall into the rhythm of her lips, melting into her touch as you kiss her back. Her leg nestles between yours and her strong hands land on your sides, brushing along the curve of your waist as she leans into you. 

“Need you…now,” she mumbles in between kisses, the rasp of her voice confessing desperation. Even though you and Maki have been a thing for a while now, she knows how to mask her true feelings, so until she had you pinned against a tree, you didn’t have a clue that such a need was building up in her all afternoon. 

“Yeah?” you say, resting your arms atop her built shoulders, pulling her closer. “Can’t wait until after training?”

Maki tugs off her uniform jacket, leaving her in the white long sleeve she wears under her uniform, and lays it on the grass by your feet. “No, so come sit down.”

Her mouth is inseparable from yours as she helps lower your body down onto her jacket, and the moment you’re sitting down, she’s kneeled between your thighs, reaching up past your skirt to dip her fingers into the waistband of your black tights. 

“Lift up your hips for me, pretty,” she murmurs against your lips. You listen, and she pulls your tights off, and then your underwear. It’s a little strange, how you’re half-naked in one of the school’s forests, but you have a hard time caring when Maki hooks her arms underneath your thighs and brings her mouth to your cunt.

“Already so wet for me,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvis, “Have you been thinking about me too?”

“Maybe,” you say, though the evidence speaks for itself. How could you not? For the entirety of the strength training session, all you could notice was Maki. With the way her defined muscles flexed as she worked through Gojo’s ceaseless exercises, it was impossible not to. You had to look over and take in how the effort contorted her elegant features, had to hear how it sharpened her breath. And every single time you glanced over to her, without fail, she was already looking at you.

“You were just as distracted,” you say, trying to keep still despite the sensation of her hot breath fanning against your cunt. “You really should be paying attention during training.”

She smirks. “I think it’ll be easier to focus after I have you cum on my tongue.”

Her warm mouth connects with your folds, forcing a choked gasp from your throat. You rock your hips back and away, caught off guard at how quickly sharp pleasure cuts through your insides, but Maki’s strong arms keep you locked in place. Her eyes flutter shut at the contact and she deeply inhales, finally gratified after wanting to be with you like this all afternoon.

Your head lolls to the side when she begins to move, licking long stripes up from your hole to your clit with a flat tongue. Pulling up the fabric of your skirt gives you an unobstructed view and you watch, eyes lidded, as she pushes her mouth further into your cunt, just unable to get enough. Then she pushes her palms gently against your thighs, opening yourself up further to her. You allow it, legs falling open, and lean back against the tree behind you.

“There we go,” she says, “Relax for me, okay?” 

You realize why when a finger circles the outside of your hole. Maki’s tongue continues to bathe your clit with wet swipes of her tongue, only increasing the amount of slick coating your opening. She uses this lubrication to shallowly slip the tip of her finger in and out of you, stimulating the tight ring of muscle circling your entrance. Then, she lengthens her movements, pushing in deeper with every thrust of her fingers. Your breath comes out shaky. “Fuck…Maki…”

She begins to move her finger inside of you, pushing it up against your walls in a way that has heat rushing to your lower stomach. Your eyes flutter shut and each pump of her finger pushes a soft moan from your lips.

“If you wanted to make it up to me for being such a distraction all afternoon, those pretty noises of yours are doing the job,” Maki says.

She adds another finger, which only makes you call out her name once more in that breathy voice of yours she adores. The pressure is immense, especially with her fingers being so strong and precise. 

“It’s…so much-” you say, pressing your eyebrows together. You don’t think you’ve had Maki eat you out and finger you at the same time before; the sensation is overwhelming. Every harsh thrust of her fingers is complemented by a sweet lick on your clit, a two-front war that makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. Any attempt at escaping the pleasure is nonexistent with Maki’s hold on you, and soon your stomach is twisting, like a violent undercurrent is ripping through your lower half. It’s new, and more intense than you’ve experienced before. 

“Maki I…I feel weird…” you say, squirming. 

“You’re doing great, pretty girl,” Maki responds before diving her tongue into your folds once more.

“I’m serious…Maki…I don’t know…” Your fingers tighten in the grass around you.

“Does it feel good?” Maki asks.

“Feels…s’good,” you respond.

“Then relax, enjoy it.” 

You want to listen to her, you really do, but there’s a hesitant voice in your head, one telling you that if you give in to the pleasure, you’ll be giving in completely. You’re just so full; there’s so much pent-up energy in your body that’s begging to be released. But the more she touches you, the more encouragement and praise leaving her mouth, the less power you have over the force building up inside your core. 

“I feel like I’m gonna…” 

She curls her fingers inside you, pressing against your sweet spot with a force that has your body shaking and seconds away from release.

“Fuck—Maki—m’gonna—“

You’re unprepared when your orgasm hits you, and because it hits you hard, you’re helpless when fluid rushes out of you at the intense sensation. You throw your head back, pleasure rolling through your lower half and being expelled from your body. Unaffected, Maki continues to finger fuck you, only prolonging the ruthless orgasm she’s sending through your body.

“Attagirl,” Maki says, grinning. 

You’re swearing, or moaning, maybe a mixture of both, as the climax pummels your poor body, and you hold onto Maki’s arms for dear life, fingers digging into the fabric of her white long sleeve.

When her movements slow, coaxing you back into reality, the haze washes off and you realize that you’ve squirted for the first time–all over Maki’s face.

You sit up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—fuck, your glasses.”

She cuts you off. “It’s hot, pretty. Don’t apologize for something you don’t have to, mkay?” She takes her glasses from her face and rubs the liquid coating them off on her jacket beneath you. 

“I’ve just…that’s never happened before,” you say, still reeling from the sensation.

“Makin’ me feel special,” she says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, she stands, offering you her hand. “Are you okay to walk? Everyone should be regrouping by now. I think if we stay any longer, I’ll want to try to make that happen again.”

“Uh…yeah, let’s go,” you say, grabbing onto it and letting her help you up. You’re still grappling with what just happened; you didn’t even know that could happen. 

Dazed, you find your underwear on the sleeve of Maki’s jacket, uncrumple it, and pull it back up on you.

“Thanks for that,” Maki says, threading her hand into yours for the rest of the walk out of the forest.

You and Maki are the last to join the group. Aside from Gojo, who’s meeting must’ve run long. Guess training ends early today.  

As you walk up to the rest of the sorcerers, Yuuji tilts his head and then points at Maki, “Did you lose your jacket?” 

Your eyes widen as you realize that Maki isn’t wearing it, she’s still in her button-up. Though, it’s not like she could put it back on, your fluids had soaked the material. “I took it off when we were sparring. Guess I forgot it,” she responds.

“Is that why you took off your tights too?” Panda asks, pointing to your bare legs. Heat rushes to your face.

Maki scowls. “Last chance to mind your own or I’ll be your sparring partner next time.” 

“Alright! Okay!” The rest of them hurry off but fail to do a good job pretending they aren’t whispering about the two of you.

“I’ll go grab our clothes and put them in the wash, so you go take a break okay?” She grins. “I hope I didn’t work you too hard.”

“How considerate,” you tease, “But I would prefer it if you came back to my room after doing the laundry. Maybe then you’ll be able to tire me out.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

[nyancrimew]

oo if we’re doing queer confessions i got a bit of a long one

first relationship, classic story of not realizing we were into eachother for the longest time, even after regularly kissing and cuddling for almost a year lol (calling him bf 1). went really well actually after we properly got together

after about a year or so, bf 1’s ex (not on any sort of bad terms INITALLY) (calling him bf 2) who was my best friend asks if we wanted to just be in poly relationship together since we all had confessed to eachother at once point and we say yeah sure we still all like eachother, it took bf 1 a few months to think over first which was fine by all of us, so we just continued all being close friends for a few months till then. few months later, he says yea sure that’d be fine and so we started trying it out since we had all been really happy with eachotehr up to that point

literaly the same exact night that happened, bf 2 changed his attitude towards me completely and despite being very good friends before this and loving eachother he started ignoring me and claiming he just didn’t have energy to do anything ever, while constantly showering bf 1 in overwhelming affection and hundreds of smaller things like that where i’d get left in the dust while he would get mounds of attention. he was just as unnerved by it as i was.

i was a bit dumb and so didn’t really act on this for a while despite realizing immediently it was weird, and after a few months me and bf 1 started talking about it privately and realized he was just flat out lying to both of us and expected us to like. not talk about it?? like super blatant things llike telling me he didn’t value sex in a relationship at all and didn’t want it with me while minutes later telling bf 1 that sexual intimacy is the thing he valued most and wouldn’t want a relationship otherwise

one of the worst thing though (atleast in terms of how much it damaged my understanding and acceptance of myself)) was despite him being nb (he/they) and even experimenting with being a girl for a while he started constantly hanging our own gender identities over our heads and sayin shit like “well i’m gay so if you start identifying as a girl i’m gonna leave” to me when i brought up to him, the first person i talked to it about, that i wanted to be a girl which stunted myself growth by years and similar things to bf 1 who was very openly nb (which, wow i’m relazing as i’m typing this how casually mysoginsitc he was, he made all sorts of “jokes” about how inherently disgusting traditionally feminine bodily features were)

after about a year of this (me and other bf were just too scared to leave, but we definently should of) he actually broke up with me , and tried to speak on behalf of bf 1 claiming they just both wanted me out of the polycule, also just a straight up lie as when i talked to him about it . after talking for a while and asking some mutual friends we figured out he told literally every single person a different, conflicting story and putting the pieces together we came to conclusion that he was just using me as a throwaway tool to get back together with bf 1 to squeeze himself in the relationship, and tried dumping me out so he could be monogamous with him only.

needless to say bf 1 dumped his ass less than a week later after we finally were able to decipher the literally 10 different conflicting stories, and this story actually does have a really happy ending!! me and bf 1 are still besties and kiss a lot while he found another much sweeter and nicer boyfriend, i got another girlfriend with a shared pet kittygirl shortly after that helped me through the whole thing and i’ve never been happier about my body image/self image and gender identity in my life. IM FINALLY A CUTE GIRL WITH A CUTE GIRLFRIEND WE MADE IT NYALL :3!!!

(and as a nice bonus ontop, the only time i hear about him now is from other people realizing how scummy he was and cutting him off, leaving himself to rot in a hole of his own making surrounded by people jus like him. feels great to be away from that whole toxic friendgroup in general. freedom.)

(anyway thanks, “but we stay silly :3” was a quote regularly said to myself during the recovery of all this )

yipppeeee, we really do stay silly!!!

[f1fnatic]

LIAR ⤿ c. sainz 55

→ ( in which. . . ) you and carlos have been dating for three years. carlos started to grow distant. after charles shows you a picture of his infidelity, you catch him in the act after a day at work.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) cheater!carlos sainz x longtime!girlfriend!reader

→ (content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) mentions of sex, language, yelling, cheating, alcohol consumption, angst

→ ( author's note. . . ) this was my first time writing angst/cheating. it was fun experimenting with this type of writing. i hope you enjoy! see end for more.

→ ( masterlist )

"you fucking liar!" echoed through the otherwise quiet apartment. hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway, another pair following the first close behind. was this what everything came to? walking out on your supposed soulmate after years together? how did you get here? and what did you do to deserve this?

one week prior ↴

you had noticed the distance growing. carlos was becoming closed off and almost secretive. he didn't confide in you as much as he used to. you didn't think twice about it and assumed it was something to do with work. ferrari had been going through a rough patch, both him and charles struggling to start or finish a race for the past three weeks.

you understood how stressful being a driver was. you had been around formula 1 for a while now, because of him. you and carlos met when he drove for redbull, in 2015. the two of you started dating shortly after in 2017.

you were always there for him, through thick and thin. through the blood, sweat, and tears. after every win, podium, loss, dnf, dns, etc. you understood how hard it was for him to perform well but not get the results wanted.

so, when you received a picture of carlos with another woman, a blond, on his lap, hands on his shoulders and lips touching, you were livid. charles had sent it to you, with a simple caption that read "i am sorry." it was the after-party of a not-so-successful qatar grand prix.

rage, confusion, sadness, and disgust coursed through your veins. the thought of him finding comfort in a woman who wasn't you made you sick. your hands shook, eyes blurred, and breath quickened.

you could not believe that carlos would ever cheat, especially on you. you had given him everything. love, attention, comfort, and compassion. and this is what he gave you in return? you had sacrificed so much to make him happy. you felt useless. had you thrown away six years of your life just to get cheated on? did he feel guilty? did he regret his choice to kiss a random girl? thoughts sped through your mind.

what did you do until he got home? your apartment no longer felt like a home. it felt gross and unnatural to be in there. to think that the person you shared it with was sharing a different room across the world. did he share your bed with someone else as well? the pictures of the two of you that hung on the wall seemed to mock you.

every passing minute became more and more painful. could you act like everything was fine when he eventually did get home? or would you lose it immediately the second he walked in through the front door?

unfortunately, you knew that only time would tell.

present day ↴

today was the day that carlos got home. you were at work, trying to distract yourself from the inevitable conflict about to occur. you reached the front door of your shared apartment. shaking hands held the key and you placed it in the lock and turned it. pushing open the door, the apartment was quiet, suspiciously quiet.

you noticed that the kitchen was a mess. plates and cooking utensils were in the sink, dirty and waiting to be washed. two wine glasses left discarded on the quartz bar. a bottle of red cabernet left opened and almost empty. one of the glasses had lipstick stains littered around the rim.

your heartbeat quickened. adrenaline began to pump through your body. you quickly toed off your shoes, and your feet ached after a long day. you also discarded your purse and jacket, making your way to your and carlos' bedroom.

as you got closer, you heard moaning. your heart dropped to your stomach. you opened the door as soon as you reached it. low and behold, it was carlos and the same blond from the picture that charles sent you. the blond was on top of carlos, head back and mouth open in euphoria. carlos had the same expression as her on his face.

tears immediately welled in your eyes and quickly fell. you felt defeated. it was one thing to see a picture of your boyfriend kissing another girl, but to catch him with that same girl in the bed that you shared, in the same bed that he fucked you in, was different.

finally, carlos opened his eyes and noticed you in the doorway. his hands found the blond's hips to stop her from moving. his eyes widened with guilt and surprise; mouth wide open in shock.

"y-y/n?!" he shouted. the blond turned to look at you and god, she was pretty. you partially understood why he did it. she covered herself with one of the loose sheets and unstrattled carlos, allowing him to get up.

"y/n, i can explain-" he starts.

"explain what, carlos?!" you shout, cutting him off. "how on earth can you explain me walking in on you fucking another girl in our bed?!"

"it was a simple mistake, mi amor, that's all." he tried to reason, smiling meekly. the nickname that once held so much love now held nothing. the name that made butterflies flutter in your stomach now made them sink.

"you fucking liar!" you screamed. "this was on purpose!" it echoed through the now quiet apartment. you turned your back on the pair and walked away. your hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway, carlos' pair following yours closely behind.

"y/n, stop!" he yelled, grabbing your wrist and turning you around to face him.

"do not fucking touch me!" you say, yanking your wrist from his grip. the complete and utter audacity he had to try to attempt to explain why he cheated. "was i not enough for you? did i do something wrong? did i not fuck you the right way? did i not get you off fast enough? huh, carlos? what made you decide to throw away six years together huh? six fucking years!"

carlos stares at you, his brown eyes that you thought were breathtaking were now filling you with disdain. "tell me carlos!"

"i-i don't know why," he stutters, turning his gaze to the floor, taking a sudden interest in the hardwood paneling. "you were enough, you still are enough. please y/n, we can move past this. i was drunk and stupid, my judgement was clouded." he tries to reason, reaching to grab both of your hands.

"no, stop it. no amount of time can get me to forgive you for this. i will never forgive you, carlos." you said his name with such disgust that he flinched. "charles showed me a picture of you kissing her in qatar in a bar during an after-party. i have known for a week. but to think that you would take her into our home and fuck her?"

"wait, wait, wait. charles texted you?" carlos questioned. there was anger present in his voice. "why the fuck did he text you?" it seemed that he was upset at the fact that charles told you he cheated.

i scoff, crossing my arms. "unbelievable, you are unbelievable. you cheated on me and you are caught up on the fact that your teammate texted me proof? how much of an egotistical cunt do you have to be?"

"me? i'm the unbelievable one? you're the one walking out on me because of a stupid, drunken mistake." he says nonchalantly, glossing over the insult. it's almost like he didn't care that your relationship was ending.

"fuck you, carlos. i am done. we are done. do not call me, do not try to find me to convince me to come back to you." the tears were flowing vigorously down your cheeks. you knew your makeup was running, but you didn't care. "i am fucking done. thanks for nothing. i hope have fun fucking that slut and that you are happy with the choice you made." you finish, walking away through the home that once brought you so much joy to be in.

you gathered your things. purse, shoes, phone, coat, and keys. you would get everything else later. you opened the door and then slammed it once stepping outside. it was then when every emotion hit you at once. violent sobs wracked your body making you shake. you slid down the door hugging yourself. you could not believe it. you don't know if you ever would.

after eventually calming down, you decide to call the one person who made you aware of this whole situation. you clicked on his contact's name and then the call button. you placed your phone on your ear to hear two rings before he picked up.

"hello? y/n? why are you calling." asked the voice.

"charles," you pause. the question of 'was this a good idea?' ran through your head. but, at this point you didn't care. carlos and what he thought was the least of your worries. "i need you to pick me up."

low key happy with this one, wrote it last night and like where it went. i think i might turn it into a charles x reader :P let me know in the comments if you want that :) thank you for reading! as usual, feedback and requests are welcome; make sure to leave a comment and kudos! (only if you want :P)

[reidsdimples]

Strictly Professional | Part 1

Spencer Reid x Reader

18+🔥

You’ve been hooking up with your coworker Spencer Reid. Does the rest of the team know? 👀

After a long case, the two of you can’t keep your hands to yourselves.

“Dr. Reid, a minute?” You ask him as the team makes its way into the bullpen. The flight from Seattle was long and everyone’s ready to wrap up their paperwork and get home.

“What’s up?” He steps aside into the small kitchen with you.

“What was the true probability that Morgan wouldn’t have had to shoot that unsub?” You ask him.

“Given his devolution, the desperation of being trapped, and the lack of control he had, he wasn’t coming out of that apartment alive. I’d say based on what we know, only about a 5% chance of one of us not having to shoot him,” he answers quickly.

“Right,” you sigh.

“We saved the girl, it’s still a victory,” he places a hand on your shoulder. The touch diverts your train of thought to him, to the electricity that just surged between you.

He meets your eyes and swallows hard before dropping his hand.

Those hands, those damned hands. In the last month they have been all over your body, his long fingers inside of you, down your throat, pinching your nipples…

“Reid, Y/N, a word?” Hotch pulls you out of your thoughts.

Did he know what the two of you had been doing? That two of his agents have been sleeping together secretly? You look to Reid whose face gives nothing away. He wouldn’t show concern, he’s way better than you at masking things from other profilers.

Shit shit shit.

Hotch leads the two of you to his office, JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss exchange looks of curiosity. Your heart hammers in your chest, heat creeping into your throat and ears.

He doesn’t know, there’s no way he knows. You two were careful.

“I got a complaint that you snapped at one of the witnesses,” Hotch starts with Reid.

Relief floods you but worry for the verbal beat down creeps in. Reid had snapped at a witness, right next to you.

“And you didn’t tell me it escalated,” Hotch turns to you.

“Sir, I…” you stammer.

“That witness was out of line, Hotch. She agressed us first,” Reid reasons.

“And as soon as Reid got snippy, I shut the interview down,” you bud in.

Reid grips one of the arm rests and you remember that same tight grip on your ass. You jolt upright and adjust in your chair, catching Hotch’s attention.

“Reid you are brilliant and you are an asset to this team but you have to be more patient with these people. They are victims too,” Hotch leans on his desk and crosses his arms. “Y/N, you did the right thing by shutting it down but next time run it by me so I’m not blindsided by a complaint. Understood?”

You both nod.

“If it happens again, I’m documenting a disciplinary action,” he says with finality. Reid clears his throat, red on his cheeks.

You both stand in unison which Hotch takes a mental note of.

“Great work this week nonetheless,” Hotch says as Reid gets the door for you.

Leaving his office feels like stepping out of tar, you slow your breathing and purposely walk away from and ahead of Reid.

Shit. Hotch is reading the two of you, he’s picked up on something.

An hour passes and no one on the team has left, everyone still lost in their paperwork and conversation with one another. It’s one of your favorite things, time together after the storm of a case.

You leave your desk to go to the restroom before heading to the intel room to grab some more files which are kept in a large closet connecting to Garcia’s office.

You’re fumbling through paperwork for a while, taking out boxes and placing them on one of Garcia’s desks. You make a mental note to clean it before she gets to work in the morning.

You turn suddenly at the feeling of a presence behind you at the entrance to the closet.

“Shit Reid, you scared the hell out of me,” you sigh.

He’s leaning against the door frame, watching you with a conflicted expression. Strands of hair fall around his face, messy and untamed. He’s removed his cardigan and rolled up the sleeves to his light colored button down. It the dim light he looks gorgeous, mouth watering even.

“You think Hotch is onto us?” he steps forward and pulls the closet closed behind him.

“It’s possible,” you answer honestly.

But then he’s right on top of you, his fresh scent invading your lungs, his body heat warming you.

His hand grips your hip, pulling you closer to him as he starts to nip at your neck.

You pull on his waist band, need buzzing between your thighs. These meetings, these moments where heat and need build to an impossible level are what you live for.

“Then we better be quick,” he snakes a hand up to your jaw and kisses you quickly, desperately.

You’ve never done this with so little people in the office, what if they notice your absence? What if they notice both of you gone together? You’re about to say something when you become aware of the taste of him, his cock straining against his pants, and just how acutely you need him inside of you.

“This is a bad idea,” you hum while hurriedly pulling his cock free from his pants. You pump it slowly, causing him to grunt under his breath while he hikes your skirt up.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you put this little skirt on,” he smiles and rips your panties to the side. You giggle but bury your face in his chest so the sound doesn’t travel.

He sinks a finger into you, his finger immediately soaked and it pleases him. He bites his lip knowingly before pinning you against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he says when you screw your eyes closed to revel in the moment he enters you.

He stretches you around him, gravity forcing you all the way down onto his cock. You grip onto his shoulders as he starts to move, one hand on your hip, the other in your hair. The tip of his cock strokes the nerves inside of you so deliciously that your eyes roll back in your head. It had been too long since you had him and the possibility of getting caught is a thrill that heightens the experience.

“So good,” he whispers, sweat beading on his forehead.

The sounds of him moving inside of you and both of your controlled panting brings you to your climax fast and hard as he continues his rhythm into you. He’s focused, he knows exactly what you like and how to get you to cum for him. That eidetic memory will not let him forget precisely what you like.

“Reid,” you whimper and he clamps his hand over your mouth. You bit into his palm as you clench around him and he fucks you through your orgasm.

“That’s right, keep coming on it,” he urges. The low moans in the back of his throat are ecstasy and you know you’re going to cum again.

He drags his cock out and pushes back in, torturously slow. If he had time, he would tease and drag this out until you were crying. Your legs shake around him as he hits your gspot repeatedly, now rushing the two of you to finish before you get caught. Fuck.

“You’re going to finish with me and then you’re going to go back out there and pretend you aren’t filled with my cum,” he growls against your ear. Your nails dig into his shoulders and you can’t take it anymore.

You come undone around him in waves as he pumps you deep and fills you with his cum. He shudders against you, steadying himself on the wall. His cock pulses inside of you and you’re reeling with pleasure.

There’s no time to revel in it though because you both hear Morgan and Prentiss talking outside of Garcia’s office.

He jolts back, you drop to the floor and pull your skirt down while he fixes his pants. Both of your are panting but trying to control it. The room is hot and alive with what just happened.

“Go out there,” you shove him. “Wait look at me,” you say. You realize that you left a claw mark on the side of his neck, the scratches angry and red. So instead you rush into Garcia’s office from the closet just as Morgan enters it.

“Reid in here?” He asks when he only sees you in the office chair with a folder. You’ve stopped breathing. You hope your hair doesn’t give you away.

“I think he’s in there looking for a file,” you say quickly.

“This the one you need?” He asks Morgan, handing him a file.

“Yeah,” he takes it and turns to leave. “Come look at this,” he tells Reid to follow him.

Reid glances at you with a small smirk as he follows Morgan out of the room, one hand resting on his neck to cover your scratches.

Fucking hell, you’ll never get enough of him.

[demonic0angel]

EDA >:DD

Look, I just... I need more of that... Jorgu... Jorguman... Jorguamdnra?? I can't pronounce that shit— CLARK/DAN SHIP :33. Can we have a uhm, continuation <333

Don't break your wrist if you don't have any more ideas on how to continue it

-A.E. 👻

(Ayo, worry more about your thumb!! 😭)

Part 1

Superman continued to hold onto the man as they all traveled down the hallways silently. The woman, named Jazz, told him the story of what happened before he arrived.

Originally, she had ruled over the Infinite Realms, a place that was the opposite of the living realm, as queen regent, but when she gave up her position to their little brother Danny, he had been cursed alongside their little sister. Since previous rulers were forbidden from taking back the throne after being thrown off or abdicating, the crown was given to the other brother, Dan (nicknamed from Danny, which was weird).

“So now they’re children?” Superman asked for clarification, eying the two sleeping children in Jazz’s arms. They stepped over more bodies as they continued moving.

She nodded grimly. “The true crown belongs to Danny, since he is the one who acquired the crown through right of conquest. However, for the last few years, Dan has been the one taking up the role as king in order for there to be a ruler while the throne remains empty. He had been doing really good… he quit smoking, he stopped killing, he was healing…” The sad look in her eyes darkened into rage. “But the GIW ruined everything.”

“The GIW?” Superman asked, as he silently picked up a piece of debris to allow them all passage through the wrecked hallways.

“We call them the Guys in White, but their real name is the Ghost Investigation Ward, and they’re a government agency created and designed to hunt down ghosts. They’re a bunch of fanatic, genocidal hard heads who won’t rest until they nuke all ghosts and kill us all,” Jazz said, her tone venomous. “We can’t fight against them, so we’ve been largely distracting them with other targets. It seems that somehow, they found a way into the Ghost Zone to capture Danny and Ellie.”

The girl in her arms stirred and Jazz shushed her gently. “Shh, Dani, go back to sleep. It’s okay, I’m taking care of it.”

She fell back asleep and they didn’t stop moving. Superman digested the information, holding Dan closer to his chest. Said man was clinging onto him, arms wrapped around him as he remained asleep to the world.

He looked so innocent and lovely, unlike that murderous monster that Superman couldn’t understand just moments before.

But now, Superman was conflicted as he understood his motives.

“Why… Why did he relapse so badly?” Superman asked, a hand involuntarily moving from Dan’s back to stroke his long hair.

Jazz gave him a backwards glance and clarified, “Dan?”

“Yes.”

“… he didn’t come from our timeline. He’s from another world, where everyone in his family— us— died. He was possibly psychologically tortured by our godfather and then he broke down even further, enough that he asked to be split in two so he could feel better. It didn’t work. He nearly killed our godfather and then he absorbed the evil in him. It turned him insane and he destroyed everything. After he completely destroyed his world, he set sight on ours. He nearly killed me and Danny.”

Superman stared wide eyed at her. “And you forgave him?”

She turned back and smiled softly. “He’s my little brother. I’d forgive him for anything. And he’s much better now. He wasn’t well before. But he’s gotten help and he made the effort. He worked hard to be a better person, but the GIW set him back. So after we finish taking care of them, we’ll take care of him.”

Superman clutched at Dan even harder, a mixture of awe and inspiration taking over him. The movement must’ve jostled him, because Dan snuffled, rubbing his fine facial hair against Superman’s neck. Superman withheld a shudder and said determinedly, “I’ll help you.”

“Hmm. Much appreciated. Could you stop snuggling my little brother now?”

Superman blushed bright red. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” He hadn’t thought she would’ve noticed.

Jazz turned her head enough to give him a disdainful look but didn’t say anything. Danny, peeking over her shoulder, opened his eyes and glared at him. Superman flushed and loosened his grip on Dan, whose expression turned disgruntled from losing warmth as he whined.

Oh dear. How embarrassing.

[leclsrc]

you know it ✴︎ cl16

genre: porn WITH plot (for once?! everyone cheered), humor, bit of fluff... oh inaccurate depictions of the 2022 season sorry

word count: 7k

Charles is a bit disappointed the pretty girl he harbors a crush on doesn’t have him listed as a Formula 1 crush. He is a lot disappointed that you two can’t fuck.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... degradation, praise, charles is a bit switchy here lol, penetrative sex, a bit of ass play sorry...., oral (m receiving), semi public sex, yeah

title from this. i love u guys im so sleepy

Joris insists there’s some big present waiting for Charles in his car, to celebrate the middle of the season that has, and will no doubt continue to stretch into a period of conflict and strategy woes. He yanks off the beanie sitting on his head, listens to small talk drifting between Joris and Carlos as they all walk toward their cars to alleviate the bubble of nerves in the low of his stomach. 

Sure enough, there’s an unassuming box lying on the driver’s seat. Joris slides into the passenger seat after Carlos drives away with his girlfriend, his grin shit-eating and mischievous. The door is half open when Charles takes the box to inspect it. White, with the Ferrari logo printed neatly on the centre (very classy touch), the sides are signed by different members of his team. He scratches through the seal and pulls the flap open.

He’s been given a quasi-official Ferrari box of condoms.

Thirty-six condoms, at that, small squares neatly lined up next to each other. Talk about a welcoming present. Not a camera, not racing memorabilia, not a new pair of shoes. Just condoms. Thirty-six of them.

“A mid-season pick-me-up,” presses his friend, giddily. The shorter male lounges comfortably on the seat, a blissful look of pride on his face. Laughing with exasperation, Charles wedges the box shut and tosses it carelessly into the backseat, preparing to drive. This isn’t his first rodeo with weird gifts—he’s half-sure he got adoption papers from an especially excited fan once before.

“You are such an asshole.”

“It’s also a congratulations on winning literally every race so far present,” Joris adds. It’s hyperbole but has a ring of truth to it. As the season closes, Charles’ chances of holding up the trophy this year increase. 

Despite himself, Charles has a better outlook on his chances for the remainder of the season, driving-wise. He’s given it his all so far, and the rest looks promising enough. He only hopes he’s right. Netflix also increased the amount of people getting into the sport, so he’s dealing with tons more fans and nosey DMs, but it’s not too much of an impediment to a hopefully stellar season.

Charles makes a right. “Do you plan to use them?” Joris asks then, a teasing tone taking on his voice as he scrolls through his phone.

“No, not really,” Charles says, lying straight through his teeth.

“You’re a fucking liar, you are.” He whips his head toward Charles, observing his stoic side profile. “You’re single, haven’t gotten laid in months—”

“—weeks.” Corrects Charles with a cough, the defense coming at an embarrassing speed.

“…Case in point. And sports gets everyone horny. And if you didn’t know, Mattia actually OK-ed the condoms, so you’ve basically been greenlit by your boss to fuck half the world. Thank me later. I’m proud of myself.”

“Sports gets everyone competitive. Because it’s sports. Which, you’re conveniently forgetting, is my life profession.”

“Loosen up,” Joris whistles lowly. “You think Lewis got seven titles by being a closed-off celibate? It’s practically tradition to fuck around if you’re single in sports. And, for others, being in a relationship is barely an obstacle, anyway.”

Charles hates to admit that Joris is right—because he is. Racing isn’t racing without the extravagant parties that follow, and the girls and guys brought back to hotels for reasons known to everyone. People from everywhere come to the paddock and the clubs—models, influencers, actors. The pent-up energy has to go somewhere, he supposes.

But even if the little shit is right, Charles still maintains a level of dignity. Ergo, he’s steadfast in his belief that he will not be sleeping around or putting this godforsaken box of condoms to any semblance of use while the rest of the season progresses. He just hopes he won’t eat his words.

—

Monza kicks off with a 1-2 and secures Charles with a comfortable lead ahead Max.

He is high on adrenaline all night, toasting and chugging to the win, snapping pictures with Carlos, proud out of his mind. It’s everything he’s wanted and more, a quench to the thirst he’d developed over the season, a slap in the face to his doubters, a kiss on his. He texts his family, friends who aren’t present, some other people who he feels are deserving of a personal announcement, and pockets his phone.

“Now would be a great time to put that gift to use,” Carlos says at some point, when everyone in the garage is kicking back alcohol and slowly preparing to move the celebrations someplace else.

Charles cringes visibly, having almost forgotten about the dreaded gift, and totally forgotten Carlos’ knowledge of it. Even with the recent win, he’s already thinking of the next, the promise of a two-peat, another podium, hell, another 1-2. The condoms were honest to God the last thing on his mind.

They break apart an hour later, when Charles is heading to the hotel and Carlos is headed somewhere else. He’s almost to the exit when someone calls his attention in a curt English voice.He turns and finds Lewis jogging toward him, outside of his race suit and back in the fashionable apparel Charles merely wishes he could pull off.

“Lewis,” he waves, pacing toward him to save the extra few seconds of waiting. 

“Amazing, amazing race, man,” the elder compliments. “You’ve got the best chance at the title here.”

Warmth melts into Charles’ body and he offers praise back, which—praising Lewis is just about the easiest thing in the world. Nerves bleed out of him as the conversation continues, the atmosphere of a finished race a welcome accompaniment to their strategic talk. 

“Headed to a party, yeah?” Lewis asks when they’ve both exhausted the topic. Charles gives a half-hearted shrug, already energized enough from such a momentous win, and he nods in response. “Nah, I get it. Sometimes you just gotta sleep. But hey, if you’re ever free, we should go get dinner sometime.”

—

The “dinner sometime” happens in Singapore. Having gotten P1 beside Lewis and therefore once again high off the adrenaline, Charles claps Andrea on the back and retrieves his phone to view two texts. One reads Put the condoms to use yet, champ? from Joris, and the other Can I take you up on the dinner? from Lewis. One goes answered and the other goes muted on his iMessage.

A little something he failed to remember was Lewis’ plant-based diet, a fact that hurtles back toward him when he can’t find steak on the menu of this classy, hole-in-the-wall type of restaurant. Of course Lewis would know these types of places, he thinks. He’s a millennial semi-hipster with a separate Instagram account for his dog.

Charles ends up ordering pasta, and Lewis beside him orders a cacophony of very vegan, hippy sounding meals, the quantity of which could feed the two of them. “I hope you don’t mind,” Lewis says when the waiter departs, “but a friend is actually joining us tonight.”

“Sure,” Charles says honestly. As long as it’s not some deranged hyperfan, he does well in social situations. Right then, Lewis calls someone over. Charles looks up, squints through the dim mood lighting to try and make out the nearing figure. And then you’re sitting down across them, smiling softly, exchanging hellos with Lewis.

A little something Lewis fails to remember is his “friends” can just as well be called “celebrities,” because he is, after all, a sporting legend. So if Lewis says “friend,” Charles will assume it’s a “friend,” and not a world-famous model whose face is plastered everywhere on and offline.

“Charles Leclerc,” he says blankly.

You introduce yourself, sliding easily into a bout of questions, apologies for missing the race, you’re impossibly jetlagged, it’s crazy. Lewis chips in with something about how he’s already ordered food for the both of you, and this and that, and Charles is hopeless, staring at your face the entire time. He hopes he looks more sexy than aloof or, worse, starstruck, because it’s turning out to be the kind of situation where he looks like the deranged hyperfan, and not the other way around for once.

To be clear, Charles isn’t a fan of you. He just knows of you, because honestly, who doesn’t at this point? You’re talking on and on about how your latest shoot with Jacquemus was a pain because you shot in a tank top in sub-zero weather, but you express it like it’s the most profound topic on Earth.

Lewis turns to him and, in an (eventually successful) effort to include more of Charles in the conversation, goes, “She’s a big Formula One fan, Charles.”

Okay. Common ground. Charles lifts both brows smugly, his eyes flickering back over to you. “Really?”

You meet his eyes and smile, looking downward and blinking owlishly. You’re so pretty, long lashes fluttering as you blink and try to find an answer. Christ, you’re so painfully his type.

Lewis chimes in again—“Really. And not just because she and I are friends. I mean she was into racing before we got acquainted. Honestly. Quiz her and everything”—then excuses himself to “take a call.” (His phone wasn’t even ringing—total bullshit—but Charles is ultimately grateful for it.)

You make a face of shut up toward the departing Lewis, and Charles exhales a quiet laugh at your defiance. You clear your throat and come up with an answer.

“I’m not a big fan,” you say. “I’m more of a casual, ‘every once in a while’ type of fan.”

“That’s what every big fan of sports says,” Charles says smoothly. 

“Is it?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, making a tch noise. You chuckle before going, “Well, if you insist, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want it to come to this, but okay. I am a fan… of Red Bull.”

Charles fakes extreme offense, his jaw dropping as if totally scandalized. You laugh, throwing two hands up in faux surrender. “Not Red Bull,” he says, his tone making him sound even more devastated. “You’re telling me you—don’t tell me you think Max Verstappen is attractive.”

“I mean, a bit!”

Charles makes sarcastic sounds of disapproval, and you laugh. Charles leans forward, and you do, too, both of you smiling. “So you’re into the angry drivers?”

“I’m not into a specific kind of driver,” you say casually, your tongue peeking out to lick over your bottom lip. Your voice is as soft as it is firm, slow and demure, matching the way your eyes glint. You’re impossibly pretty. He almost can’t handle it.

“So who’s making the cut?” He prompts, interested.

“Well, for starters, drivers who are my age,” you say slowly. “I turned twenty-four this year, so anyone within that bracket.”

“Oh?” Charles pretends to delve into deep thought, teasing. “Maybe Stroll? He’s very funny, speaks good English. You can never really say no to a Canadian.”

Your face warms, and you hope your flustered state isn’t too obvious as you shake your head. “He seems fun, but I prefer somebody a bit… a bit older.”

“Older…” he hums. “Pierre, perhaps? Tad bit older, real charming, great driver. I can introduce you. We’re good friends, you know.”

You click your tongue, smiling shyly. You bite your lip and it takes everything in Charles to not turn on his horny gears when he sees you, big eyes and lip bite, look so pretty. “You tease me,” you say meekly. Charles covers a cough with a chuckle and adjusts his position on the seat.

Later, after Lewis comes back in (“Long call, eh? It was about Roscoe.” Bullshit again) and you all get to order drinks, and you’ve departed in your private car, pressing an air kiss to Lewis and waving goodbye to Charles, he turns to the Mercedes driver and hums.

“Next time you have one of these”—he points to the restaurant, gestures to the front door—“dinners, let me know, okay?”

“Ah.” Lewis winks, smirking. “I’ll be sure to.”

—

Understandably, your schedules never seem to mesh well together. Lewis ends up giving Charles your number as compensation.

He stares at the contact longer than he’d like to admit, when he’s marinating in the sweltering heat of Austin. He’s finished much of his work for this half of the day so he’s mostly watching the engineers work on the last bits of modification for Sunday; he cherishest the free time and drafts, reads, and rereads texts, scours Google and Instagram for pictures of, and anything related to, you.

There’s a few new articles about buying a new car (a Benz, much to Charles’ chagrin) and new photoshoots intermittently scattered across Europe, with all sorts of brands. He sees a picture you’ve posted of yourself smiling at the camera and thinks of how pretty it would look as his lockscreen. 

Am I seeing you soon? He texts finally. He hopes it’s enough to let you know who he is.

Hopefully is the reply. He smiles the whole day.

—

You’ve been texting and calling almost everyday, conversations stretching continents. He only sees you next in Mexico, Friday night, at a club Lewis has rented out for a crazy price that will no doubt be replenished in days anyway. He’s dropped to second here, but the thrill riding in him makes up for his disappointment. The place is so crowded—everyone and their mums seem to have been invited here—room blinking purple and blue, each step vibrating with the heavy bass of EDM. He catches you right as you exit the washroom area, and you look pleasantly surprised to see him.

He saw you earlier, when you were doing shots of tequila and chatting with with Bella and Lewis, but just as quickly as he spotted you, you’d dipped back into the sea of people. Now is better, he thinks. You two are alone.

“Charles, hi,” you say casually. You’re wearing a tight top and a short skirt that, despite Charles’ best efforts, always cast his gaze downward. He wonders what’s underneath, hungers to get his hands there. But he’s nothing if he’s not patient, willing to play the long game.

He takes a step forward, his gaze steady on you. Charles isn’t the tallest driver, but he’s got a big presence. You swallow, taking a step back to accommodate him. He smirks. “You look pretty.” 

“You flatter me,” you say thickly, smiling, inviting him closer. The air is hot around the both of you—when your eyes flit around, they see nobody. You’re alone together. His eyes pierce into yours so deep you feel like breaking eye contact, exhaling as you take another step back—evidently, you’re distracted, because you stumble.

His arm circles around your waist, and once you steady, the hand moves down to your hip. It stays, a reminder of what you might be getting soon. You smile curtly, wondering what this might look like to a bystander, a stranger. Somebody might want to piss and walk in to see the strongest world champion contender’s hand on Chanel’s poster girl’s waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly against your ear.

“More than.” You say, breath shaky. “It’s more than okay.”

He chuckles. “Good. I’d hate if we couldn’t fuck before Abu Dhabi.”

Your finger traces down and wraps around the belt loop of his jeans. “Who said anything about fucking?”

Charles exhales a laugh, his lips curling upward into an amused smile. “Ah? I can’t fuck you, then?”

“I’ll let you fuck me when you’re holding up the world champion trophy,” you say sweetly, tugging him closer. “That’s okay, right?” You stare up at him, blinking, pouty. He wonders, is this how you might look with your lips wrapped around his—

“That’s about a month away.” His composure barely wavers, his hand traveling lower, blunt nails digging into your ass. Your breath hitches. 

“I’m aware,” you say lowly. So be it, Charles thinks—he’s got thirty-six condoms for a reason.

“Define fuck,” he says, voice rough.

“Penetration.” You’re quick with it, cocking your head to the side. You lean back confidently, testin him, eyes batting flirtatiously. 

It’s time he get a little creative.

—

Daytime weather is hot and the paddock is swarming with people, but Charles has his sights set on somebody sitting in the Mercedes hospitality. He manages to get out of morning meetings earlier, wedging himself out of the room and passing by a mirror to fix his hair with admirable concentration. He’s in the middle of combing through it when a force tugs at the hem of his polo, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Uh—Carlos? What the hell?” He asks, brow raised defensively. Facing him are Carlos, Joris, and Pierre, arms crossed over their torsos and amused expressions on their faces.

“What are you doing?” Asks Pierre, cocking his head to the side.

“Fixing my hair.” 

“Pussy appointment?” Joris interjects; the vulgarity of his statement earns him a poke on the side from Carlos, who clicks his tongue.

“Wh—I don’t—”

“You are shit at lying, mate,” says Pierre, his lips curled into a devious smile. “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody,” he lies.

“Charles,” says Lewis suddenly from behind them, waving his arms to get the former’s attention, “are you going to go over and say hi?”

Hook, line, and sinker. He’s been caught. “Well, well, well,” Carlos starts, mischievous.

“Guys—” Charles says, attempting to make an excuse.

“Looks like your vow of celibacy isn’t so far off after all,” Pierre adds. “That one over at Mercedes is going to break it, eh?”

“Yeah.” Joris says, smirking.  “Lucky George, huh.”

The three face him, incredulous. “I was kidding,” he fibs, once he realizes his epiphany is wrong. “Kidding.”

Charles walks off, and ends up seeing you right where he expected you, sitting beside Lewis in a tiny dress with your hair pinned up into a bun. Almost naturally, your words fall into the flirtatious back-and-forth you’d started at the dinner, hyperaware of the cameras snapping your pictures. At some point, the Brit excuses himself to “take a call” (again, bullshit) and leaves the two of you alone.

“See anything nice on the paddock?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with a teasing smile, head cocking to the side to gauge his reaction. He chuckles.

“Did you get a picture with Max?”

“Only a ton.” You pause. “And Daniel, too.”

“Ah, you’re just crushing on the whole paddock, now are you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek, leans forward.” Uh, Checo?”

“Pass,” you say with a nose scrunch. You’re so fucking pretty.

“Lewis.”

“God, pass. He’s not ugly, but he’s my brother at this point.”

“Pierre.”

“Horribly French, but… smash.”

“Are you not into the French?” He smiles. “Good to know. Hmm—Carlos.”

“I’d be stupid to say anything other than smash.” You narrow your eyes, licking over your lips. “I’m into the Ferrari guys, is the thing.” His gaze travels to your crossed legs, long and disappearing into the hem of your dress.

He smirks. “Are you?”

“I really am,” you hum.

“Are you staying long? All weekend?”

“Yeah, I’m free from work for now,” you say casually. “Any recommendations on what fun things I can do here?”

“I can think of…” he says, smirking a little. “A few.”

—

Stupid places to have sex, number one: a motorhome.

Still, Charles is crowding you up against the wall of the room, swallowing the whimper that leaves your mouth with his own. And still, this isn’t sex. At least not the kind he wants the most. He mentally praises Carlos for being able to decipher the typo-laden text he’d sent out on the way here, one hand around your waist, the other barely capable of typing with how fast his brain ran. Clesr the fuckng room npw now npw it read. Thank God.

Your mouth tastes like champagne, and everywhere else smells divine. Your hands roam impatiently over his shoulders and you make muted noises of frustration at your inability to pull his shirt off. You settle for letting your hands crawl underneath it, stroking over his abs.

“D’you remember what I told you,” you pant, his lips insistent on your neck, “at the club?”

“Yeah,” he says, grunting at the memory.

“Okay.” You breathe. “Let me suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Jesus. Okay. Fuck.”

You giggle, and he watches intently as you drop onto your knees, looking up at him through thick lashes. You’re insistent, pulling the zip of his jeans down and tugging his cock out. It’s pretty, thick like the rest of him, already hard. 

He’s at his limit, having you here like this, on you knees and stretching your lips around the tip of his dick. Your eyes barely leave his, fluttering as they tear up when you take him in your throat.

He throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, lets a hand unpin your bun and thread itself into the untangled hair. If he looks at you, he’ll see your head bobbing up and down on his cock, and he genuinely needs to hold off the orgasm first.

He rocks forward into your mouth and feels your throat close up around him. That’s enough to weaken his resolve, send grunts out of his throat that he can’t keep quiet.

“Oh, shit,” he says, feeling every part of your mouth and throat around him, warm and tense. He can’t help but thrust harder, steady but not too rough, growing more aroused with every sound of you choking on him.

His gaze flickers toward you. You’re teary-eyed, lips dotted with spit, choking yourself on his cock. Just for him, here in public. You pull off, blinking tears away from your face and looking up at him smilingly.

He laughs, guiding his cock back into your mouth, watching the way your brows knit together, pleading, almost. You're at his mercy, he thinks, thrusting harder, listening to your coughs. He loves seeing you like this, innocent face messy and slick with spit and precum, eyes big and needy.

“You like that?” He grunts. “Look at me.”

You nod the best you can. Yes, you want to say. Give me more, I love it.

“Yeaaah, fuck. I know you do,” he says through his teeth, staving off his orgasm the best he can before he releases all over you. The image alone of streaking you with his cum, claiming you all over-eyelashes, tits, cheeks splashed with cum-is enough to send him closer to the edge. “Gonna cum,” he grunts.

You moan around him, the vibrations causing his eyelids to flutter. You shake your head, pulling off and wrapping your hand around his dick, stroking slower. “Not yet,” you say sweetly, watching him throw his head back in pleasure and frustration. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, exhales shakily.

“Shit.” He whines. “Come on, baby. Make me cum.” He cups your jaw, stares down at you.

You stroke him faster, lip between your teeth. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “Cum for me, Charles.”

He stops staving himself off, falls into the pleasure and relief of your hand around his cock until he’s tense all over, knitting his hand into your hair and pushing you backwards so he can press his tip on the flat expanse of your tongue and let his cum shoot there. It drips from your tongue and lips onto your chin and you giggle, swallowing it, scooping up the rest to push into your mouth.

You stand, licking your lips slowly. “I owe you,” he pants, zipping himself up. Already he’s thinking about what he can do to you in return. Tease you, like you did him, bend you over his lap or sit you on it and make you whine and writhe and wait and cum. 

“I’ll hold you to that, champion,” you murmur, kissing his cheek and slipping back outside.

—

Ferrari’s advice is shit and despite his good mood and quick-witted driving, Charles finishes in fifth—not too shabby, but disastrous for his overall standings.

He suffers through a horrible debrief where attempts to defend his honor go unheard, his mood wilting and wilting until he’s at the media pen and ushered in front of some network he hasn’t heard of. They’ve probably paid to get a good seat here.

He’s in a shit mood, he hasn’t seen Joris or Pierre or you in hours, and has only faced red-faced frustrated superiors and now, wide-eyed journalists with loose mouths. The media’s done the mandatory speculation between the two of you, so he already expects questions of that variety, but it’s still hot and angry when he does.

Are you banging the Marc Jacobs model? The Irish reporter asks with a wink, so very unprofessional and not at all belonging to reputable media. The hot leggy one who has fuck me eyes?

Charles clenches his jaw, rolls his eyes, says fuck off mate and shoves him backward a little, then walks away and readjusts his cap. The clip makes Twitter and he feels even worse with the amount of troll accounts telling him to Jeez, take a joke.

After the ordeal, in your hotel room, you sigh softly and run your hands through his still shampoo-smelling hair. “You didn’t need to do that,” you say, a bit strictly. He knows you’re grateful, though, and a bit proud.

“I wanted to,” he insists softly. He forgets to leave before morning; when he does, he forgets his official Ferrari shirt hanging on the seat, leaving in a spare one instead. It’s got his number across the back. You don’t tell him.

—

In between Mexico and Sao Paulo, he manages to catch a flight to New York to peek into one of your photoshoots. It’s for Chanel and he’s half-sure he’s taken more pictures of you than the official photographer did. At this point your vague relationship status has caught onto headlines everywhere, and he doesn’t miss the curious murmurs from paparazzo that follow him as he enters your apartment later to greet you.

You’re in a pair of shorts and a tank top when you open the door, greeting him with a tight hug and leading him inside with a loose grip.

“Wine?”

“Please.” He eyes the wide area, the big floor-to-ceiling windows and the art on the walls. “Hungry?”

“Mmm.” You hum, sliding a glass toward him. “Starving.”

“Pizza?”

“Something else.” You smile. He tears his eyes away from your tits, poking out of the thin cotton, and coughs.

The both of you end up on the couch, your legs draped over his as you talk about racing.

He’s ranting about how he’s neck to neck with Max now, and the final verdict will likely be decided at Abu Dhabi, a fact that sends nerves all through him. You’re listening, you really are, but it’s difficult to keep listening because his hand, big and rough, is stroking your bare calf as he talks absentmindedly. 

You offer the occasional mmm-hmm and uh-huh and even the oh really to sell it, but he doesn’t seem to be conscious of how many sparks are coursing through you because of his hand on your leg. He just talks and talks, accent curving into curse words elicited by the competition.

And his voice, rough and deeper when he slides into Italian phrases, gets in your head, reminds you of the way he’d moaned when you had his dick in your mouth. You like that? he’d said, panting, heavy, hot. His hand remained in your hair, controlling you the same way you did him. Fuck.

When you blink, he’s stopped talking, and has likely noticed your wandering imagination if his teasing smile is anything to go by. You cough, clear your throat, adjust your thighs. You’re thinking—you can’t stop thinking—about what happened in Mexico, not just in the motorhome but in the club where he’d let his hand sprawl over your ass and stay there, possessive.

The tension rises. I owe you. He really does. You reach over and grab your phone from the coffee table, snap a few pictures of him. “—Hey!” He protests, scrabbling to grab it from you while balancing his half-full glass. “I look god awful.”

You stand up, review the picture. He looks so impossibly handsome. “You’re right, you do,” you say, pouting. 

He reaches over again, chuckling, and you avoid him. “Foul play!”

“Tch. At least show it to me,” he says defeatedly, so you do: presenting your screen to him.

Quickly, he makes a grab for it, but you just escape his grip, ending up right in front of him and leaning over. You’re losing your balance, digging your toes into your carpet to maintain stance. He spares a glance at your shorts, riding low on your hips, showing a bit of thin lace.

Charles tugs you forward by the hem of your top and then takes your wrist into his grip—the force of his grab makes your tits shake underneath your flimsy tank top. It’s dragged down so far your tits are spilling out. His eyes flicker down to them, dark, and a pretty smile spreads across his face.

“Come on, give it,” he challenges, eyes narrowing a little. You bite your lip, inwardly liking this a little too much—being at his mercy, trapped in his strong grip. You’re flustered and it shows.

He wrestles you onto his lap with ease, his arms steady around you. You stare downwards, dark eyes meeting his, hand on his broad shoulder for leverage. He’s so pretty, you think, so hot and handsome and you need him right now. Through his jeans you can feel how thick he is, his dick growing, getting hard and huge under you. It feels big even through a few layers—you can’t help but imagine how it might feel inside you.

Your phone clatters to the carpet behind the couch. “I win,” you say breathlessly.

He grabs your hips and jerks his upward, letting his stiff dick press up even more against your shorts.

“I think I’m the winner here,” he says gruffly, hands feeling you up all over. He thumbs at your chest, rubbing over your tits. You shiver—it feels good having him on you like this, your mind turning to mush.

“Shut up,” you laugh, shakily. A hand wanders in between your thighs, another coming to squeeze your barely-covered ass. You can’t focus on much, just his hands roaming everywhere and his hard dick pressing against your core. He shoves your hips downward again, his cock hard and perfectly against your pussy.

“You feel that?” He asks; it leaves him in one low breath.  

“Yeah,” you say, whimpering. “I want it.”

He grinds up against you again, his thumb teasing the hem of your shorts. Closer to where you want it. “Don’t think you could even take it, baby.”

“I hate you,” you say. “You know I can.”

He laughs. “We’ll see, yeah?” You find a rhythm of grinding down against his cock, nestled right against your ass. He’s everywhere and you can’t handle it anymore, finding yourself craving him more and more.

You moan against his neck—and then come to your senses. “No.”

He smirks when you pull away. “Tempted, were you?”

“Not…” You pause. You’re sweaty, flushed all over, and your panties are sticking to you from how wet you’ve grown. “Not very.”

—

Abu Dhabi is a son of a bitch.

It comes with meetings, meetings, debriefs, calls, meetings. Everything is riding on the night’s race, the flurry of social media a welcome source of anxiety for him as he watches the hours whiz by. You’d missed seeing him, understood he was busy; you send a selfie to compensate and it gets him calm enough to last the pre-race buzz.

Time speeds by with lunch, coaching, drills, talks with Carlos and Mattia and even Max, who displays support as strongly as competitiveness. Before he even realizes it, he blinks and he’s in his suit, adjusting his balaclava, inhaling, exhaling. Everything is just the way he likes—needs—it to be.

He drives himself to P2 behind Max, eyes shut.

All else seeps into him, natural method, natural routine. He flexes his thumbs. Through the team radio his engineer goes good luck, and Charles’ practice bleeds into his subconscious. The air is heavy, with tension and excitement, the division of blue and red. Everyone’s eager to see who claims the title. 

The lights go off and everything is left to skill, blurring into noise and turns and expletives yelled into the team radio. He can’t even feel himself think, turning with dexterity and overtaking with the kind of vengeance he hasn’t let out in a while. 

For all his trying, Max keeps up just the same, keeping a neck and neck level for the relative entirety of the race. They’re milking out the last few laps together, and Charles feels every fibre of his being work toward this, just this, nothing but this right now. Nothing but the finish line.

You got this, Charles, says the engineer, voice heightening. Maiden world championship.

He nods to himself, trusts his instincts and when he catches sight of the finish line, he thinks: he’s the best driver on the grid.

So he revs faster, and the rest descends into—

Absolute fucking chaos.

—

He’s smiling when he approaches the reporter, who’s already holding the mic with wonder. He asks for a message in Italian, then reminds him—and the crowd—that, in case he forgot, he’s world champion. Charles thinks he genuinely can’t ever.

“What are you doing to celebrate?” He asks then, smiling.

Sweaty, with damp hair and shiny skin, he smirks and leans closer. “Someone, I hope.”

—

“Hey there, champ.”

You’re already leaning against his hotel room door when he gets there, after the chore of wrestling himself free from the rest of the team pressuring him to get drinks. Carlos helps out, babbles something or other about Charles being “busy with something else”—which isn't wrong, not at all. He offers a smooth wink, bending down to kiss you.

Your mouths meet, softly first then increasingly messy as he pins you against the door. You push away, breathing heavy. “I don’t know what you’re into, but I don't want the top floor of this hotel seeing us fucking.”

“I wasn’t into that, but now that you brought it up…” You swat his arm and he laughs, unlocking the door and pulling you inside. You’re clinging onto him—his arms, his chest, anything, kissing up his neck and jaw. He groans at how needy you are. All for him, he thinks. Probably soaked through your panties and it’s all because of him.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he says gently, voice low as he leads you to the bed. He catches sight of your shirt and a brow raises. “Did you buy that?”

“Hmm?” You look down, following his gaze and blinking. The shirt you’re wearing is loose, hanging off your shoulders and hastily tucked into your miniskirt so it looks like you actually have trousers on. “Oh. No, this is yours.”

“Mine.” He smiles a little. “You look so good in it, princess.” His hands mindlessly grope at you, hungry, sneaking underneath your skirt to feel at the lace there. 

In retaliation, you lean forward, unbutton his jeans and tug at it.

“You left it at one of my”—you gasp, feeling his finger sneak its way beneath your panties—“my hotel rooms.”

“Pretty girl, pretty shirt, pretty lace, yeah?” He tugs, lets the garter of the skirt loosen and fall off your hips on its own. “Red.”

“You take too long,” you groan.

“You’re just eager,” he laughs, thumbing at your clothed cunt.

You’re so wet, evident even in the lazy circles he rubs over your entrance. You’re aching, desperate, begging almost. So he gives you what you want, maneuvers you onto his lap and pushes your (his) shirt up to stuff your mouth with it.

It won’t work for long, but it’s enough. He pushes your panties to the side and pulls his hard dick out. You’re sitting against it now, leaking slick onto it, at his mercy, branding his name and his number across your back. It’s hot. 

He stares at the way you rock softly against him, hungry eyes meeting yours. “You’re so pretty, baby. Ruined.”

“Fuck me already,” you say, voice throaty, innocent.

“Can you take it?” He asks, teasing you, slapping his dick against your clit softly. You whine.

“Please,” you insist. “I want it. Make it fit.”

He’s a massive tease with it, his breath fanning against your skin, hands sticky on where they’ve hiked your shirt up. He lowers you, slower, against the tip of his dick and he watches your eyes flutter when you sink onto it. After ages of waiting. Your grip’s like iron on his shoulders, moans leaving you in quiet bursts of pleasure. 

You’re far away, dumb from the feeling, you barely register the way he shoves the shirt back into your mouth to keep you quiet. “So fucking tight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. It’s muffled, barely intelligible. “For you.”

You’re only able to take it because you’re so wet, so turned on, face and brain filled with nothing but pleasure. He can’t take it.

“Mmmfh,” you say, muffled by the bite of cotton in your mouth. You’re sweaty, flushed, overstimulated—you don’t know where to focus. On his lips against your jaw, his hand on your neck, the way your pussy swallows his aching dick. “It’s so big, I—”

“You okay?” He asks, breathily. Smiling. He’s in control, but still he sounds whiny—almost, if not as desperate as you. “You’ll take it all for me, won’t you?” 

“Oh god,” is all you muster, letting him stretch you out even more, gushing all over his cock. “I, I—”

He moans, his grip tight against your waist, watching his dick bury itself in you. “You’re getting me so full,” you whine. “So deep, I feel it—” you taper off into a moan again when he presses hs thumb to your clit, distracting you from the stretch as he finally, finally bottoms out.

“Good?”

You nod. So good, give me more.

You grind against him, let the shirt fall out of your mouth. “You’re getting my dick so wet,” he comments, breathless. “So pretty for me, too.”

Growing antsy, he attempts to move, but you whine. Your turn to tease, you think, after he was a dick to you just now. “Not yet,” you say, lip caught between your teeth. His hands are tight around your waist. Desperate.

You squeeze around him, watch his brows knit together, a grunt leave him in a frustrated exhale. “You wanna fuck me?” You tease against his neck, blinking innocently.

“Yes,” he replies, not missing a beat. You pout, like you’re empathizing with the problem you’re causing; you grind slowly against him and he lets out a guttural fuuuuck. He’s so big, so hard—you can feel every inch of him inside you.

“Tell me again, Charles,” you say with a giggle. You’re so hot like this, face flushed and timid, hips moving slowly. He could cum just from the way you bite your lip, the way a whimper slips out of you when he hits the right spot.

“—Yeah,” he says, sweetly. “I want to—please, let me fuck you. C’mon, baby, can I?”

“Aww,” you tease. 

“Can I?” He asks again, voice deep and thin with the need to fuck you, thrust up into you and make you the dumb one. His face is flushed and desperate. “Can I move, baby? Let me, please.”

You’re not stupid. You know—if his flushed, pleading face and big green puppy eyes are anything to go by—that he’s going crazy, growing antsy. But you’re not complaining.

“Hmm,” you say, feigning genuine thought. “I don’t know, Charles. Feels good just like this. And you want to make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Yeah.” You repeat, staring into his dark eyes. He’s frustrated, desperate, flushed all over and sweaty. His fingers dig into your hips. “I’ll make you feel really good, baby, if you let me.”

“Go ahead,” you say softly, “fuck me, please.” And he’s thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. It’s knocking you out, almost, the pleasure of it, the dizzy onslaught of euphoria. He’s stretching you out so well, whining softly into your neck and yeah, you two have waited far too long to have this. You 

“Fuck,” he grunts, lids squeezed shut and head rolled onto your shoulder. “Go on, baby, ride it, make me cum.” He cups your jaw, reaches his thumb into your mouth. It’s too much, all of it. He makes you suck on it while thrusting up, dizzying you with his cock.

He grabs handfuls of your ass, teases his thumb at your tighter asshole just to watch your eyes flutter, feel your cunt grow wetter. “I’ll fuck you even fuller next time,” he says; the implication gets you hot.

You bounce harder, chasing release as his thumb teases over your ass, the tip of it just thrusting in enough to elicit strings of moans out of you. “Come on, ride me,” he goads. “So good for me.”

“Fuck,” you pant, “cum in me, please.”

You cum first, writhing around him and riding your orgasm out in lazy grinds over his hard cock. You want to see him cum, see his eyebrows knit and his mouth release pretty whines, feel him claim you inside, hands hot and heavy on your ass. He does, with a guttural fuuuuck, shoving his dick up in you to the base and spurting all his cum in you.

He thrusts, watches his cum leak out of you, fucks it back in, in a vicious cycle. You shiver, blinking coquettishly and watching along—and then you’re both crumpling over each other on the bed behind you. You pant heavily against his chest.

“Hey.” He muses out loud, drumming against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I have thirty-six condoms we need to go through. Wanna go on a date?”

[coldzonkprofessorturtle]

An Affair to Remember

Alright, let's get into Affair the Series, which has been giving me brainrot the past few weeks so feels like a good time to get into an analysis of why I find it so fascinating. Eventually I'd love to do a deeper dive into Thai GLs and that industry (that's a whole other thing though) but after having seen my share of them (Gap, Show Me Love, TSOU, The Loyal Pin) I've really found myself falling into the rabbit hole with Affair the Series and the way it depicts friendship, love, and acceptance.

Deep dive below and also thank you gif makers for your work 🙏🏽

(also will go over events from episodes 1-5, so spoilers ahead if not up-to-date)

So first off, I have read the novel, which is the first time I've finished one of those for a GL and quite frankly, the translation wasn't that great but the story still came through. I won't refer to it much and will base this on the show as I think they've done a fantastic job with the adaptation and fingers crossed continue to do so.

Where in most GLs the core conflict is external. The main couple can't be in love typically due to familial/cultural pressure or a man interfering (that still exists to an extent here) the main conflict in Affair is simply that Wan and Pleng love each other too much but they do so in different ways.

When we meet Wan and Pleng they're 17 years old and have spent their entire lives together. They're sisters but not and while Wan seems to have a social circle, Pleng really has no other friends outside of Wan. The spoiled rich girl and the maid's daughter. Couldn't be more different if they tried and yet by circumstance their lives are as intertwined as it gets.

At 17, they have different ideas for their futures. Pleng is musically talented, wins every contest and is financially set. She can live the life she wants. If she wants to be a musician then so be it. Her parents love and support her and there's no pressure. Wan on the other hand has an overbearing mother (and a resentful father), no prospects for her future but at least she has Pleng.

Despite her parents, Wan loves wholly and openly. She knows she loves Pleng and while she doesn't yet know it she does know that Pleng loves her too. I would argue that Wan truly knows herself, which is why she comes across as so self-assured in their younger years. She's slowly trying to guide Pleng to understand herself too.

Pleng, however, has never had to sit with her emotions in the same way. Take this as differences of personality, class and upbringing. Now that they're 17 and entering adulthood, Pleng has to start engaging with the world (and her emotions) rather than hiding behind the rich, insular lifestyle she's had up to this point.

As the idea of boyfriends comes up, Pleng starts to lash out. She's jealous, she's pushy but really she's just in love with her best friend and doesn't know it. Everything starts happening too fast. Wan meets a boy at an art gallery, Aunt Wi pushes Pleng to help Wan get with Ek, Pleng's dad is extremely stressed and she doesn't know to what extent and throughout that Pleng is dealing with her feelings that for some reason just won't go away. Feelings that Wan keeps bringing up in her over and over.

Pleng is a mess. She doesn't know how to connect with her peers, she knows something is wrong with her dad, she sees that Wan is seemingly moving forward in a way that she's not (dating a boy) and whether she realizes it she continues to isolate herself.

From Wan's perspective she couldn't care less about dating Ek. She's already completely devoted to Pleng (in ways that Pleng doesn't even know).

They're 17, hormonal, gay, and incapable of seeing each other's perspective. Wan wants Pleng to let her in. Pleng can't help but push everyone away.

As soon as Pleng starts to really come to terms with her feelings about Wan. That's when everything falls apart. Her dad kills himself, her mom goes into cardiac arrest, all of her family's assets are seized and she's now orphaned and staying with Wan's parents who clearly and vocally have no space for her. Pleng who was already struggling to find her footing before that fateful night now has absolutely nothing to stand on.

The break point is when Pleng finds out about Wan's academic achievements and that Wan had been hiding that truth about herself their entire lives. Wan has always been intelligent and capable but hidden herself behind a veil of ineptitude. Wan in loving Pleng puts her on a pedestal to her own detriment. She has no issue blighting her own light so that Pleng can shine but from the moment we meet 17 year old Pleng in the show we see her pushing Wan to better herself. Wan thinks loving Pleng means her own success doesn't matter whereas Pleng loves Wan and all of her potential.

They both love each selflessly but while Wan would burn the whole world to keep Pleng warm, Pleng loves Wan despite her own existence. So when Pleng leaves she writes,

"Your parents will feel at ease. And you'll finally get to live your life as your true self... I know you love me but I also want you to love yourself. And be proud of who you are."

For Pleng, her leaving is the ultimate way to show her love to Wan. A clean break. She runs away so Wan can thrive but here's the thing Wan needs Pleng to keep her grounded. Pleng does too but she can't see it at this point. Too much has happened and so, in her desperation she removes herself. She is her father's daughter after all.

So when 13 years pass and Wan has spent that entire time holding on to whatever she can to keep herself close to Pleng (becoming a doctor, riding a bike to work, marrying Ek, separating herself from her parents); Pleng has become a ghost of herself. Wan has imbued herself with all the things she thinks/knows Pleng would like while Pleng is stuck in a cycle that she can't get out of: play music, make a bit of money, pay rent, rest, repeat.

Pleng never reaches out to Wan because why would she? Her loving Wan means staying away and on top of that there's a sense of shame of what her life has become.

So when they finally meet again it's too much. Wan is successful but she's still clearly in love with Pleng and while it was all Wan's doing, in a way her success is a direct result of Pleng's influence. In removing herself, Pleng slowly begins to realize not just that she took Wan's smile with her but the why and how. Wan's changed and devoid of the joy and innocence that Pleng loved most.

They slowly fall back into their natural rhythms but Pleng still can't accept her own presence in Wan's life. Wan is back to pushing (albeit more aggressively then before - time was wasted) and in pushing Pleng, Pleng pushes back. If they take their relationship that one step further, what then? What if it falls apart? Why not just stay in a cycle where nothing shifts? What if there's another ringing shot in the distance and everything changes in a moment?

If there's one core trauma to Pleng as a character it's her desperation to not feel like a burden to anyone. Especially Wan. And then she finds out that Wan (though separated) is still married to Ek and she can't accept that she could have ruined Wan's potential happiness. Not understanding that Pleng herself is Wan's happiness. Pleng feels like a disruption because at the root of it the thing she wanted above all for Wan, "I also want you to love yourself. And be proud of who you are" is not something that Pleng accepts for herself.

I'll leave it there and hope the show navigates the situations that are about to come as well as they have so far but kudos as Affair manages to oh so gracefully skirt what could otherwise be an incredibly toxic relationship. Somehow they manage to give these two characters so much grace despite their flaws. And truly that's also a huge credit to Sonya and Lookmhee's abilities.

It's chaotic and messy but in coming back together these two might just realize that's how they both best shine.