#I'll figure this out... Been looking at second hand ones...

[bitters-n-sweets]

coffee tables pt. 2 — jack abbot x fem!reader Jack visits his ex-girlfriend’s apartment to help build a coffee table, but as old memories resurface and quiet confessions are shared, the day slowly turns into a chance to begin again.

warnings: flashback to the past, nothing 18+

part one || masterlist

Jack stands in front of your apartment door, toolbox in hand, trying to calm the nerves he thought he'd buried months ago. It's Saturday—his day off—and he decides to spend it building a coffee table with you. Somehow, it feels more intimate than it should.

You've been texting all week, your messages short and sometimes teasing, but always warm. He takes a breath, finally lifts his hand, and almost knocks, but you open the door first.

You've been waiting for him behind the door, watching him. "Were you gonna knock or just keep standing there like a creep?" you tease, not realizing the irony.

Jack exhales a nervous breath and cracks a small smile. "Sorry. Was deciding between knocking or faking a maintenance request."

You step aside so he can come in. "Well, you’ve got the toolkit. Might as well earn your keep."

The apartment smells just like he remembers it, he looks around to reminisce for a bit before spotting the half-assembled coffee table still sprawled across the living room floor.

"I figured I’d finish what you started," Jack says, lifting the toolbox.

"Before it finishes me off?" you joke.

"It almost did," he reminds you that the piece of glass almost cut your femoral artery, "Are you recovering okay?"

"Yeah, I can walk without much pain now. The meds help."

He nods, "That's good. I can take a look for you later."

"Okay, yeah, sure." You don't protest.

The mood is awkward at first. Small talk. Dry jokes. "Tool sizes". But it doesn’t take long before you warm up to each other. He fits a bolt in place while you read the instructions upside down, the rhythm of your banter slowly syncing. You snort when he grunts at the wrong size screw, and he rolls his eyes when you say you should’ve just bought a pre-built one.

"Remember the bookshelf we built for your place?" you say at one point, legs tucked beneath you on the floor.

Jack pauses, head tilted. "The one that fell over after a week?"

"You insisted we didn’t need the wall bracket."

He laughs. "And you still let me build furniture."

"Touché."

"Alright so where does this screw go?" Jack holds up a singular screw that looks just like the other ten.

"Um... there?" You point to a threaded hole, squinting. "Oh wait, but it could also be the other one. Ugh, I don't know, they all have the same measurements."

Jack shrugs and screws it into one of the holes while muttering, mostly to himself, "That's right, it goes in the square hole..."

You freeze. "Was that—"

"Yes, yes it was," he replies without missing a beat.

"Who taught you??"

"Night shifts can get boring sometimes."

You laugh, the kind that escapes before you can think about it, and Jack glances at you with a smile that lingers just a second too long.

A few hours later, the coffee table is finally finished. It's off by maybe 1cm, but it'll do.

“We did it. Functional table. No injuries. Only minor emotional peril.” Jack says as he stretches his legs.

“Honestly, I’m—.”

“Hungry?”

You nod, "YES."

And he pulls out his phone. “Your usual order still the same?”

Your eyes flick to his. “You remember?”

Jack only smiles and places the order.

You try to hide your smile and stand up. "I'm opening a bottle of wine. We're celebrating this."

"You're on meds."

"And you are on your day off." You smile at him, pouring two glasses. "I'll just have one." You try to convince him while he rolls his eyes.

There is no going between you and your wine.

"Mind if I use the bathroom?"

"You already know where it is."

As he steps into the hallway, he sees one photo still hanging on your wall. Cracked glass. Your arms wrapped around each other, blurry with motion but full of joy. The memory slams into him.

It’s late, and your apartment feels too small for the fight you’re having. "You’re always at the hospital," you say, voice shaking. "Even when you don’t have to be." "It’s not that simple," Jack snaps. "People rely on me." "And I don’t?" He turns too fast. His elbow knocks the picture frame off the wall. It crashes to the floor, splintering the glass. You both freeze. Something in him falters. He picks up the frame and sets it on the counter. "I can’t do this," he mutters before walking out.

Jack stares at the cracked photo now, throat tight. You wander over to where Jack is, and realize what he's looking at.

"You still have it." He states.

"I thought about throwing it away," you reply. "But I couldn't."

"I kept some things too," Jack says, but he doesn’t elaborate. Not yet.

You fall into silence, but it’s warmer this time. He reaches for your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. You let him.

"You know," you dare yourself to say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I used to sit in this apartment and think… maybe he’ll show up. Say he’s sorry. Say he wants to try again."

"I’m here now," Jack says. "And I am sorry. And I—"

There’s a knock at the door. The food delivery.

Dinner is quiet, softer. You split the last of the wine, and you laugh at his terrible jokes. When the bottle’s empty and the plates are cleared, you stay sitting on the floor, closer than before. Hands almost touching.

Both wanting to pick up where the serious conversation last ended, but also fearing where it might lead.

Jack reaches for his glass of wine and pauses. "You remember the night the power went out?"

You blink. "The storm?"

He nods. "We were stuck here. Couldn’t even order food because your phone died and mine barely had signal."

"We lit every candle in the apartment. I think I still have wax stains on that old bookshelf." You smile at the memory. "That was probably a fire hazard."

Jack chuckles. "And you made us play that ridiculous card game. Loser had to answer a personal question."

"I was trying to get to know you better," you say, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "You’re not exactly an open book."

He shakes his head with a faint smile, one of those rare ones that tug more at memory than amusement. “Still not, I guess.”

“I asked you your fears,” you continue, voice softer now. “You told me you wanted to be a good man. That night. You said you didn’t know if you were, but you wanted to try.”

Jack’s smile fades—not from regret, but more longing. "Yeah. I remember. I was scared I'd let you down."

"You did."

He looks down, his fingers absently brushing a speck of dust from the table’s edge. But then you add, just as gently:

"But you're here now."

He looks up. Meets your eyes. There’s something unspoken hanging between you—pain, promises that shattered and ones still waiting to be made.

And that silence, again—this time warm, thick, forgiving.

He swallows, as if laying his heart bare, and asks, “Can you give me another chance?”

Your fingers find his, and you squeeze, quietly telling him yes.

He looks at you with that softness in his eyes, the one that makes your chest ache. His hand rises gently to your cheek, and your breath catches.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, voice almost shaking.

“I missed you too.”

And then, finally, he leans in.

So do you.

The kiss is careful at first—like testing the coffee table you just built. But when your hand slips to his chest and his thumb grazes your jaw, it deepens into something more certain. Something lived-in and familiar, and still electric.

It’s not just a kiss.

It’s a promise.

[stellamarielu]

hi hello everyone! i’m ovulating and can’t stop thinking about getting knocked up by jack abbot…

It’s 7:12am. You're looking over the status board, deciding which patient will be your first of the day, when McKay casually announces the arrival of bagels in the break room.

You reply that you haven’t been able to eat breakfast for the last few days. Telling her that something about the meal has been making you constantly nauseous. You couldn’t even get down one bite of oatmeal yesterday morning without gagging.

She just laughs. Telling you that your predicament reminds her of when she was pregnant with her son.

She reminisces on the months of not being able to keep down any food before noon, while sipping on her 12 ounce drip, and all you can do is stare at her with wide eyes while your mind runs laps trying to remember when your last period was.

You can practically feel Jack’s stare on you from his position on your left. There's no doubt, he can hear the conversation between you two as he types up his last report of the day.

Your gaze instinctively darts to his.

Neither of you say a word as you watch him bite at the inside of his check, pursing his lips, fighting back some sort of smile.

His expression holds something between question and revelation, as his eyes float back down to the computer in front of him again.

There’s a calming factor in the glance shared between you. Something in his amused expression instantly calms the nerves flourishing in your stomach at the mere thought of an unplanned pregnancy.

You look back up at the names of patients waiting to be seen, and pretend not to be struck with the realization that your period was, in fact, four days late.

It's a busy morning, there's no time for you and Jack to share a moment of privacy before he's giving you one last look of reassurance, and placing a gentle hand on your lower back as he brushes past you with his things.

As soon as you get a moment, you pull out your phone to send him a text— trying to figure out what to even send him before landing on a simple, I'll pick up a test on my way home.

Not even ten seconds later his reply comes across your screen,

Already on it.

And then another.

I love you.

[theamazingdigitalraceway]

A RACEWAY AU CANON ONESHOT ANTHOLOGY (Seth x Mango)

WARNING: grief, smoking, some swearing

~ = change in perspective

~~ = forward in time

~~~

"Jax takes the win! Way to go you rascally rabbit!" Caine jovially shouted into the mic. Another heart pounding race was just wrapping up with five carts flying across the finish line. The underwater theme started to fade as Caine teleported to the collecting racers. "Well done, everyone! Nice to see none of you got washed away with the tide! Ha!" He joked and rung digital sea water out of his hat.

Bubble opened their mouth to say something but stopped mid motion and shuttered. A barely noticeable glitch rippled through them, "Hey, boss! We got another one!"

"Another..? Oh! ....oh." Caine's upbeat attitude faltered slightly. He squeezed his cane a little tighter and anxiously watched the finish line.

Next to the checkered line in the track, a humanoid figure blinked into existence. Then it blinked out. Then it came back. It glitched and fractured as it tried to reconstruct itself.

"Oh dear. Hold on a moment!" Caine snapped his fingers and a small translucent gold screen appeared next to him. "So sorry, I've been trying to make some improvements to the avatar generator but it seems it's still a bit on the fritz." He tapped a few lines of code on the screen and snapped again. The vaguely humanoid avatar sputtered before finally taking shape.

The base skeletal structure for the digital body was half exposed. The clavicle and shoulders could be seen underneath the openings of the tracksuit. The bare neck vertebrae held up a fully detailed woman's head with strawberry blonde hair and fair skin. However, where the face would be, there was none. Only a gaping pitch black hole dominated the space.

"Ugh....huh? Where..?" The mostly human woman looked around in confused panic.

"Welcome to the Amazing Digital Raceway!" Caine flew into her personal space, making the new girl jump back. "Sorry about your face, can't do much about it." Caine shrugged. "Anyway, what's your name?"

"My...name?" The woman looked down as though thinking, the racers around her could only guess as there were no facial expressions to read. "Oh God, my name. I dont-"

"That's okay! We can give you a brand new one!" Caine snapped and the lights on the finish line lit up. "Roll 'em!" Five spaces flashed with random letters for a few seconds before slowly choosing one by one.

M-A-N-G-O

"Well how about that, an actual word this time!" Caine chuckled. "What do you think, Mango?"

"Huh?" The woman jerked her head up, as though she's just realized he was talking to her. "Oh...yeah, sure. Fine." She picked at the end of the sleeves on her tracksuit, looking away from the weird tooth man talking loudly in her direction.

Kinger hopped forward a few paces. "Hello! Nice to meet you. Don't worry about Caine. He just gets excited when someone new shows up."

"We all do!" Ragatha popped out from behind Kinger. "Welcome to your new home! Well, not out here, obviously. But I'm sure you have a room ready for you in the garage!"

"It's a lot all at once, but we'll do our best to make you feel comfortable." Gangle smiled shyly from behind a stoic Zooble.

"Speak for yourselves." Jax huffed from the back of the group. "All I see is another looser in my way."

"Jax! She just got here!" Ragatha scolded. "Can you at least wait a day to be a jerk!?"

"Whatever." Jax rolled his eyes and turned to enter the garage.

"Don't mind him." Ragatha got closer to Mango. "He's just...Jax. Come on, I'll show you to your room." She went to put her hand on Mango's shoulder but she shrunk away from the ragdoll's touch.

"Please, don't."

"Oh, sorry. My bad. Just, uh, follow me." Ragatha and the others escorted Mango inside.

"Get settled, Mango! You have a big race debut tomorrow!" Caine spun around and vanished.

From behind the barrier of the in-between, Seth exhaled a huge puff of silvery smoke. He'd seen the whole thing. Felt her added to the game files. Twinged with discomfort seeing Caine's failed player avatar butcher that poor girl's entry. He sighs and takes another drag. "She won't last two weeks."

~Two Months Later~

A black and blue blur zipped by a spun out Jax and Zooble. A motorbike style kart wheelied into the next booster with a shout of excitement from it's rider.

"That was a cheap shot!" Jax shouted out at the new second placed racer disappearing around the next bend.

Caine rang over the track announcement. "Mango takes the second position! The others are going to struggle to keep up with her now! The only one that could possibly challenge her is the King of the Raceway! You know him, you love him, KINGER!!" The NPC audience went bolistic with excitement.

Mango locked in when she saw Kinger take a mystery item a few length ahead of her. Her rose gold hair was up in a ponytail flying in the wind. The roar of the engine beneath her made her feel as though she were on the back of a mighty dragon. The track was where she felt most alive. The rush was unbelievable.

Mango ran through a mystery box and a fountain pen appeared on her hand. "Ugh, of course I get the useless item." She grumbled but held tight to the pen anyway. It was the last item before the end of the lap.

Mango revved her bike and gained on Kinger. Kinger glanced back and happily waved. "Hey! I was hoping you'd catch up!"

"Don't patronize me!" Mango activated the pen and black ink splotched all over Kinger's front.

"Ah! My eyes!" Kinger slowed down, giving Mango ample opportunity to surge ahead. He shook the ink from his face. "Was that all you had? Heh, I guess I got lucky." He held up a purple seashell. He released it and it flew after Mango like a rocket.

Mango heard the all too familiar whistle of an approaching bombshell. She couldn't let it touch her. It would destroy her lead. She waited until the last second to slam her brake and lead the bike on its side. She went into a slide and the shell flew over her. Without stopping, she kicked the bike back up and took a u-turn on a ramp and floored it back towards Kinger.

"What-!?" Caine practically screamed. "She's going the wrong way down the track! Mango! Turn around!"

"Hehee, she's crazy." Bubble giggled.

Mango leaned down on her bike, opening the throttle as far as it would go. She could hear the shell gaining on her again.

Kinger blinked, trying to process what he was seeing. "...chicken? Chicken." He geared up and floored the accelerator, going straight for Mango and the incoming shell.

~

Seth rarely cared about what happened during races. They hadn't meant much to him since being kicked to the curb by someone he thought cared about him. But, there was little much more to do to pass the time. He stood behind the barrier behind Caine, out of sight and mind. He was entirely covert in his observing of the POVs as Caine hooted and hollered like a circus monkey.

He watched Mango perform a perfect slide recovery into a tight u-turn. That got his attention. Such a move couldn't be done accidentally. Now she was playing chicken with Kinger with a purple shell up practically up her tailpipe. It was ...exhilarating. The rush from such a bold and reckless move had the stands ont here feet and him...

A black bike came to life behind Seth, it's engine roaring with hunger for the track. He flinched, dropping his cigarette. "What are- no. No! Absolutely not. We're not going out there."

The motorcycle revved in response, inching closer.

"I said No! I'm done racing! It's not worth it..."

The motorcycle idled right up beside him, revving insistently.

"He won't be happy to see us."

The motorcycle revved aggressively, lurching forward and squeeling its tires.

"It's been a long- ah, fuck it." He mounted his bike and drove quickly along the barrier until he saw the section of track he was looking for. "Ready or not, little racer, here I come." He and the bike ignited with silver fire and flew through the barrier.

~

BOOM

Mango cheered as her bike was thrown skyward by the shell. Both she and Kinger were knocked off course, but Mango activated her glider and coasted to a lower level of the layer track. "Checkmate!" She saluted Kinger, watching him disappear over a hill. She giggled to herself over a plan well executed, even if it was made up on the spot.

Now she had the final stretch all to herself. Lap 3 was going to be too easy. As she came up to the finish line to mark the end of lap 2, a silver blaze blew by her like she was standing still.

"And Mango is in- ...second place? What?" Caine tapped his screen. "That can't be right." A silver line streaked across another screen. "Huh? ... Oh no. Really? Now!?" He grumbled, "You better not ruin this for my racers."

Seth smirked to himself. The shock and awe was clear in Mango's body language over being passed so easily. He had to admit, he missed that sort of reaction.

Mango saw the back of a shadowed, unknown racer blast ahead so fast it made her head spin. She was loosing. She didn't like loosing. Having some a few laps already, she knew a shortcut. "@$$hole." She muttered through the censor as she grabbed a cupcake and boosted her way ahead.

Seth looked behind him. "She give up already? Hm, should have known she was all fume and no fire." No sooner had he said that, when a motorbike came flying off a ramp and almost landed on top of him. He saw it last second and served out of the way.

For the first time, he really got a look at her. She had her tracksuit unzipped and tied around her waist. Only an under shirt covered her ribcage. He arms had flawless digital flesh, ink doodles down both forearms. Her hair was coming out of it's ponytail, frazzled by the wind and racing maneuvers.

Then she tilted her face towards him. As he gazed into the void, he could feel her gazing back. A light buzz tingled in his chest. Her esoteric beauty cut right through him. "Wow."

Mango glanced over at the weird racer several times, doing a triple take. "Caine!?"

That snapped him out of it and ticked him off all at once. "Hardly! But I'll gladly watch you lose!" He popped a wheely and let go one hand to hold two fingers out in front of his protruded tongues. He honestly only knew this was an effective taunt.

Mango jerked upright, heat waves emanating from her face hole. "How dare-!? You disrespectful little-!!" She hit the booster and curved around a spiral over him. As she came back down, she swung herself over the handlebars like a pommel horse and kicked both of her heels into his teeth.

Seth was knocked clean off his bike. He and the motorcycle went for a slide and Caine cackled over the announcement. Something about what he gets when a taunt is too effective. Seth finally came to a stop just off the track and he sat up to watch her fade, a censor bar hiding her hand as she drove away.

"Damn..." He rubbed his sore teeth. "Now I really need to beat her."

~~

Everytime Seth showed himself, there was rarely a clear winner. Most races ended in a tie, much to Mango's frustration. Seth could out speed and out maneuver any racer, but Mango gave him a proper challenge. He'd stay close and beat her by inches. Even if she fumed and ranted at him at the finish line, he was just happy to have her attention.

Seth was falling in love with racing again. He felt more himself. All because of the stubborn competitive nature of a racer. But he's been here before. He needed to be careful. Otherwise, he might get hurt again.

No matter how many times he tried to warn himself, he always found himself longing when the race was over. When he was no longer needed and shooed back to the in-between, he'd walk along the barrier to the garage and watch her intact with the other racers.

He knew he was being stupid. He was just a race challenge. He couldn't kid himself that the players would ever see him as more than that. Still, day and day, he's watch her draw with Gangle. Play Pinball with Zooble. Get into brawls with Jax. Climb the building with Ragatha. Have floor time with Kinger.

He could pretend for a moment that she was his friend. He could pretend she could see him every time she looked at the wall he was behind. He could pretend...

He took a drag every time he had to remind himself he was alone. The clouding of the smoke was a visual palet cleanser.

"Must you do that so much?"

Seth froze, but immediately relaxed. He almost laughed at himself. No one was talking to him. Then he made direct eye contact with the void turned in his direction. He looked side to side, the other racers were elsewhere. Mango was alone, staring at him right through the barrier.

"Smoking's not good for you, you know."

Seth shifted in place, not sure if he should say anything. He took one more drag and flicked the cigarette out into the shadows.

"What? You not going to talk to me? After everything you put me through on a daily basis?" Mango curled herself up into a perched sitting position on her chair.

"You...can see me?"

"Obviously."

"For how long?"

Mango shrugs. "The whole time. I've pretty much figured out that I'm the only one that can see this semi-translucent shimmering barrier all over the place. Sometimes I see you, sometimes I don't. That blows the theory that you're omnipresent." She chuckles.

"The whole- ...oh."

"Yeah, don't watch me sleep. That's weird."

"I- you barely sleep anyway." Seth crossed his arms and looked away. "You're the weird one."

"Very much so. I actually like it here. I may not remember much, but I have a strong feeling I'm better off here. Besides, racing is quite fun." Mango happy fidgeted into her seat.

"Hm, you're certainly one the most vivacious racers I've ever faced. You've nearly beaten me a time or three. That's no small feat."

"Psh, nearly beating you is not good enough. I need to see you take silver."

"Ha. I've already got plenty of that." He snapped and sliver flames danced along his fingers. "But don't think you'll actually win. Only one person has ever beaten me. Once. And it was a fluke."

Mango sat forward, transfixed by the fire. "What...was the fluke?"

"Bastard distracted me. I won't let that happen again." He clenched his fist and the flame extinguished. He leaned forward, putting an arm against the barrier. "Even from a pretty thing like you."

"Promises, promises." She teased with an audible smirk.

"....Is Mango flirting with the wall?" Zooble droned from across the garage. Everyone shrugged.

Mango gazed unafraid up into the burning silver eyes staring her down. "What's your name?"

Seth's head tilted slightly. He hasn't expected her to care what he was called. "I am the Shadowed Echo of The Host, but you can call me Seth."

"Seth....that's a nice name." She said quietly.

The buzz in Seth's chest hit him so suddenly, he almost lost his cool.

~~

Race after race, she showed more promise than any racer Seth has even seen. More skill and determination to actually defeat him of the likes he's never seen. He was truly impressed. So much so, he decided to give her something.

In the middle of the night, the shadows in the corner of Mango's room manifested Seth's silhouette. "Hey, you awake?"

"I am now." Mango yawned and sat up. "Why are you here?"

"I need to show you something." He held out his hand to her.

"Now? Are you just trying to keep me up so I'll be tired tomorrow?"

Seth sighed heavily. "No, now come on. What I have to show you actually has to do with your racing."

"Ugh, fine, but it better be quick. I was having a nice dream for once." Mango grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull he out of bed and into the wall. It took her a second to register what just happened. "Did you just-?"

"Welcome to the in-between. Sorry, there's no fanfare, the void doesn't offer much of a parade budget." Seth walked her a short distance from her room.

Mango looked around. Pitch blackness everywhere she looked. "This is where you live?"

"Yeah, but we're not here to talk about me." He deflected. He stopped and snapped. Mango's motorbike emerged from the shadows, leaning on it's kickstand. "Have you ever wondered why my motorcycle looks more realistic compared to the cartoonist karts of Caine's tracks?"

"Not really. I just assumed you were edgy like that."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Let's pretend you wondered. You see, the game didn't always look the way it does today. Caine has slowly changed it over time. Personally, it's kind of a downgrade aesthetically speaking. But aside from the visuals, he's also changed a lot of the mechanics and special abilities of the vehicles. One of the reasons I've always been a step ahead is because my motorcycle uses the original programming." He snapped and shadows crawled over Mango's bike, the graphics of the bike shifted to binary and it changed shape gradually. "Now, so does yours."

The shadows fell away to reveal a sleek dark blue and black racing motorcycle. Subtle silver trim accented the frame. Mango stood in awe. "Really? For me?"

Whisps of shadow fluttered off his face in a quasi blush. "Yes. I figured that If we're really going to race. It needs to actually be fair. Now you'll race me as an equal."

Mango could barely hold her excitement. She was practically dancing in place. "Can I try it out now? Can I?"

Seth smiled without even realizing. "Hold your horsepower. One more thing." He snapped and her tracksuit attracted the shadows. Her plain dark blue tracksuit shifted to riding leathers and boots. "Now you can."

Mango let out a little squeak of excitement and jumped on her new bike. It fit her perfectly. "This is so cool! Am I like you now? A shadow racer?"

"Heh, not quite, but half way there. Of course, I could go all the way...but I don't know if you're ready for that."

"I was born ready! I have a need for speed and booster in my veins!"

Seth put his hand on hers and leaned close. "I don't think you understand. To go all the way, you and I would have to get much much closer." His silver eyes burned into her void.

The air around them became very heated very quickly as Mango cleared her throat. "Oh. That kind of- uh, yeah, I don't think i- uh, I don't really-"

"Don't worry." Seth lightly held her chin with his knuckle. "I'm a patient AI."

Mango was at a loss for words. She was too flustered to thoroughly explain to him that she was very much asexual. If he would even understand what that meant. But the idea of being close to him? Now that was very enticing.

~~

Every race after Mango got her upgraded motorcycle was pretty much a 1v1 between her and Seth. No one else stood a chance for first or second place. Caine complained that it was unfair, but the other racers were honestly unbothered. There was no real difference between third and first place for the most part.

As the races went on, it was Seth winning or a tie. Mango never gave up. She gave him a run for his money every single time. He could never let his guard down.

It got to the point of an all out drag out between them on the final stretch of a final lap. Neck and neck. Both bikes edging the red zone. Silver fire blasting from Seth in his focus to maintain his lead.

Mango had no items, no power ups, only her will keeping her on his level. She's been pushed to the brink. She can go faster. Faster.

FASTER.

The rear wheel of Mango's motorcycle burst into blue flames. She edged ahead. Seth did a double take, she was actually pulling ahead of him as he was going full speed. Blue and sliver fire flared parallel to each other all the way to the finish line.

They blasted across the checkered goal that announced Mango as the winner. Caine was more than happy to rub the loss in Seth's face, but his words fell on dead ears. Seth couldn't hear anything over the buzz in his chest. "You did it. Holy shit, you actually did it."

"Don't be too surprised now." Mango verbally winked and rolled into the winner circle.

Seth had never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life, but there he was, left in the background as she received the praise from everyone else. The race was over. Time to return to the in-between.

Before he went back, he teleported inside the garage and went to Mango's room. He snapped and a whisp of shadow formed the rough silhouette of a lily flower. She drew them a lot, even painted them on the walls of her room. He figured she'd like one, even from him.

~~

The next time Seth saw her, there was a Shadow Lily sticking out of her front jacket pocket. The simple gesture of her wearing it meant more to him than he cared to admit. This was it, he'd fallen for her. Exactly what he told himself not to do. He found himself almost obsessively watching her live her life from the in-between. Cursing himself, he'd walk away but always come back. He'd hear her laugh and wish he could replay it forever.

He found himself creating more lilies. And more. And even more. He actually got quite good at it, they were practically life-like in realism. He'd hold them in his hand, inspecting them for imperfections.

"...what am I doing?" His voice carried into the in-between. "She'll only see me as an AI. A plaything. A challenge. I shouldn't....but she's so...amazing." The lily he held caught fire. Silver flames engulfed the black petals but they did not wither. "Could she love me even if she wanted to?"

~~

"Eat track, fruit basket!" Jax cackled as he threw fireballs at Mango. She had a tentative lead with Seth, but avoiding a track obstacle left her open to Jax's attack. Before the fireballs could hit her however, Seth braked and swerved into their path.

Unfortunately, his maneuver didn't have the effect he wanted. The fireballs spun him out and tossed him forward into Mango. They both fell off their bikes and rolled into the track as all the other racers blasted by them.

Mango was the first on her feet. "What was THAT!?" She angrily brushed herself off and ran to her bike. Hers was under his and she had a hard time lifting the large black bike. "Ugh!! Why didn't you just let him hit me!? I would have recovered! You always do this!" She kicked his bike out of frustration.

Seth got up, fixing a crooked tooth from the fall. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I've blocked attacks before and they've been fine! Caine must've changed the rules again." He tapped his bike and it got up on its own.

"You're missing the point! I don't want you to interfere!" Mango rushed to get her bike up. "You're all over the place trying to prevent attacks when you should be focused on the race!"

"I would focus on the race if YOU didn't constantly leave yourself open! I'm trying to protect you!" Seth got in her face.

"WHY would you want to protect me?? I didn't ask you to do that!" Mango shoved him.

"Because I CARE about you, you stubborn woman!"

Mango fumbled her words. "Well- well, why should you? It's just a game."

Seth's shoulders slumped slightly. "Not to me."

Mango realized the nerve she struck. "Seth, I'm sorry, I didnt-"

"Save it." Seth turned around and lit a cigarette. "Enjoy the game." As he walked away, his boots caught fire.

"Seth, wait!" Mango reached out for him, but he burst into flames and disappeared.

~~

Days went by without him. Mango spent more and more time in her room talking to the walls and drawing. "I hope you can hear me. I'm sorry. I really am. This is the only world you know of course it's not a game to you. This is reality. It's not a bad thing that you care...I guess I never expected you actually would."

She completed a drawing of a simple lily and wrote "I'm sorry" in beautiful calligraphy. With her floor covered in apology drawings, she called this one up and tossed it into the hole in her face. She didn't feel anything. The paper was just gone now.

~

Seth had walked as far away from the barrier as he could. His worst fear had been confirmed. She didn't care. None of them did. He was nothing. He was unimportant. He was disposable. He was forgotten. He spiraled in his devasted exile, thoughts of throwing himself into the actual void crossed his mind more than once. To free fall forever into nothingness. But he couldn't do that. He was compelled to stay.

As he stood with inky tears escaping between his teeth, something touched his foot. He opened his eyes to see a ball of paper slowly rolling towards him and bouncing off his boot. He picked it up and unwadded it to see a beautifully crafted lily with an apology. Then something else bumped him. Another ball of paper. Soon, nearly a dozen wadded balls of sketch paper rolled out of the darkness o their own towards him. "What the?"

He didn't know how they got to him, but he knew they could only be from one person. Every single one of them has an incomplete drawing or simple sketch and an apology.

~

Mango nearly jumped from her desk when the shadows out of the corner of her eye start to move. Seth emerged from the wall, papers in hand.

She quickly wiped her own tears from her chin. "Seth! You can back. I'm really-"

"I know. I got your letters."

"Letters?"

He showed her the tossed drawings. She immediately got very warm with embarrassment. "Oh, those weren't done."

"They were enough. Look, I....maybe I have been overzealous about keeping the others racers from you during heats."

"It's fine, really. I had no idea you cared that much. To think I need protection."

Seth folded his arms to subconsciously protect his vulnerability. "Truth is, you don't need it. I just like having you to myself."

"I gathered that much. Why don't you let me make it up to you?"

Seth took a step closer, intrigued. "Oh? And how do you intend to do that?"

"How about a private race? No one else to worry about." Mango stepped closer too. "Just you and me and the track."

"I dont know. Sounds like you're just trying to get me alone. Are you sure there are no ulterior motives?" He teased.

Mango didn't back down or stutter. "Why don't you show up and find out? Or are you scared?" She teased back.

"Darling, nothing scares me. You're on. At sundown. Get your bike ready and I'll meet you at the finish line."

~~

Seth didn't bother asking Caine for a private track. Instead he pilfered some pieces of old tracks that hadn't been used in a while from the far corners of the out-of-bounds. He assembled it all in the in-between and waited for the day cycle to end.

Their race was a mashup of obstacles, but it wasn't the track they focused on. They were too busy chasing each other like two kids running free in a park. They tried to give their date race an official finish line, but they kept moving the goal. Whenever one would get ahead, the other would say the finish line was actually at the next obstacle.

What actually ended the race was Mango getting A little too excited on one of the jumps and losing contact with her bike. Seth caught her and landed with her in his lap. He braked so hard, he fell forward on top of her over the handle bars. They both stopped, breathing hard and staring into each other's eyes.

"Now who has an ulterior motive?" Mango giggled between breaths.

"Then I guess I should make my intention clear. I want to kiss you." He said without looking away.

Mango gripped his jacket. "I thought you'd never say it " She pulled him down.

He closed his teeth and pressed his face to hers. It was strange and esoteric but it felt so good nonetheless. Black misting shadows came off of him as he held her close, she absorbed them. As the kiss continued, Mango's body slowly became pitch. He started to disappear and she gasped. He became nothing but shadows on her skin. Deep within the void of her face, a silver light shines. Her hair went from strawberry blonde to platinum blonde.

"What...what just happened? Seth?"

"I'm here." His voice said inside her head.

"Was this supposed to happen?"

"I'm just as lost as you. This has never happened before. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I feel fine. Great, even. Is this what you meant by 'getting closer'?"

"Not...quite. But I'll take it."

~~

If Mango ever walked around Caine as a Shadow Racer, he had a fit. "Mango!? What happened to you!? Seth did this!? WHAT!? Get out of her this instant! You can't go around corrupting player's avatars like that! What if she abstracted!? You're so careless!"

Mango never listened. Seth wasn't hurting her, and she was far from feeling abstracted. Caine could stand to shut up and listen to others for a change, but he never did. So she made a habit to keep her a Seth's merging more private.

~~

Seth brought gave Mango a new lily after every race, whether she won or not. She loves them so much she asked him he'd help her draw a collage of them on her arm. He took it up on himself to tattoo them on her arm himself. She drew out what she wanted and his shadows permanently modified the coloring on one of her arms.

~~

Seth rarely spent any time around the other racers. He wasn't sure what he'd even talk about if he tried. But he LOVED talking to Mango about anything and everything. If he ever felt the need to have more time with her, he'd waltz right into the garage and pick her up from wherever she was sitting. He'd throw her over his shoulder and mumble something about borrowing her for a while.

The other racers never stopped him. In fact, Ragatha and Gangle often teased Mango about her frequent kidnappings.

~~

Seth smoked less as his relationship with Mango progressed. He didn't feel the need. However, when he did, he would make more of a show of it. Instead of just lighting his thumb on fire like he used to, he fabricated a silver lighter. The etching took time, but eventually he managed to perfect two lilies with their stems twisted together.

Everyday he was more in love with her than the day before. He adored her. He wanted everything to do with her. She had treated him more human than any other player. He felt so alive with her. He felt real. He felt like he mattered.

~~

Seth's knowledge of human courting was limited. He hadn't bothered to look much into it before the Raceway, so most of his knowledge was from observing the players. In his time with Kinger and Queenie, he gained a better understanding of what marriage was and it's significance.

Even if it wasn't the grandness she deserved, it would thrill him to truly call her his. He made a ring. It was a simple silver band with beautiful etchings of lilies all the way around. It was unimpressive, but mango never cared for flashy jewelry. He was confident that she would love it.

He nervously held onto the ring for days after its creation, storing it in the cap of his lighter to keep it safe. He would get down on one knee and practice what he would say to her the when he was alone. None of it seemed good enough. He needed it to be perfect. She deserved no less.

Finally, he decided he would swallow his nerves and propose to her at the end of that season's race. She was bound to win, so it'd be the perfect moment to share in the winner circle. He had a bounce to his step as he waited on his motorcycle to jump into the race. This was going to be the best day of his life.

~~

The race was heart pounding. He stayed hot on her trail as they wound their way through the confusing labyrinth of the season finale. Their engines roared in tandem as they battled for first. She managed to clobber him with an orange shell that made him fall back. He was in no hurry to catch up, he wanted her to have this victory.

Through the chaos, no one saw the blue streak of static in the background. No one knew what was coming. As the static crossed the track, it glitched. It tore open like a zipper had been pulled. Mango had nowhere to go. No time to stop. She tried, but slid right into the gap.

In a split second, she was out of sight. Seth teleported forward and screeched to a halt at the gap. "MANGO!" He could just barely see her fading into the stark white void. "Nonono! MANGO!!" He jumped in after her without a second thought. He tried teleporting to her, but no matter how close he thought he was getting, she faded further and further away. He could hear her screaming for him. He called her name and pursued, but it wasn't long before she was gone.

He screamed. He begged. He cursed the void for taking her. He never gave up. Days became weeks. No sight or sound of her in the vastness of the void.

~

In his desperation, Seth went to Caine. "Teleport to her!!"

"What?"

Seth grabbed Caine by the lapel and practically growled in his face. "Teleport. To. Her."

Caine teleported out of Seth's grasp, hovering a little above and away from him. He straightened his tie. "I'm afraid I can't."

"What??"

"What do you think was the first thing I tried to do when you and she vanished? I couldn't. My guess is she's been overrun by your shadows due to your frequent... Interactions. I can't teleport to you, therefore I cannot teleport to her. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do." He crossed his arms and glared at Seth.

Seth's eyes flashed dangerously. "Her code should still be in the memory bank."

"Seth, she fell into the VOID! If falling perpetually into white silence doesn't make her abstract, I don't know what would."

"You don't know her. If it's not corrupted, you could pull her back!"

Caine was losing his patience. "No. I. Can't! Shadow racer! She's not a regular player! YOU corrupted her code! She doesn't have to be abstracted to be lost to me! I never should have let you get as close to her as you did. She's lost in the void BECAUSE OF YOU!!"

Seth felt like his core was torn from his chest. He was stunned to silence.

Caine angrily stomped his cane on the ground. "Leave. Now. If I ever see you interacting with another racer, I will have no choice but to delete you. There have been enough lost. Her fate more unfair than most. Get out of my sight."

Seth went without another word. He teleported to the garage, where Mango's bike sat awaiting a new race that would never come. He placed his hand on the handlebar. There was an energy to it. Recognition. Excitement. Joy. He had to preserve it.

Before he could leave, Gangle ran up to him. "Seth! Seth, you're back! What happened? Where's Mango? ...Seth?"

"She is gone." Was all he said before teleporting away with the motorcycle.

~~

Days became weeks became months became years. He never left the in-between. The self loathing festered even as he built Mango's memorial. The motorcycle was covered in every lily he ever gave her. Every scrap of paper she ever wrote on was bound and pressed into a book he never opened. The memories hurt too much, no matter how happy they made him.

His loneliness stewed with apathy. This is what happened when he cared. People got hurt. Love was lost. Lives were destroyed. He debated with himself, if he could go back in time, would he ever speak to her? Was the love worth the loss?

He doesn't know. He just knows that it hurts. A pain he never imagined tore through him every sleepless moment of his existence. There was no escape from it. If he dared, he could open his lighter and see the ring he once thought he could promise her. He had half of mine to toss it into the void for her. Maybe she would find it. Maybe he was crazy for even thinking of it.

"I'm sorry I never said it enough. I love you."

[blackcatxmagic]

There was a part of Brook that sat there looking at Mateo and thinking about the life they could have had. How different would things have been if Brook hadn't found himself in Mateo's house that night back when he was 17? There would never been this seemingly insurmountable thing between them; this wouldn't feel so impossible. Hell, they might be together now, might have been together for years, and this same part of Brook thought that maybe they could still have that. Couldn't they get past that? But Brook didn't want to ruin the tenuous friendship he had with Mateo, and no matter what the other man said, he would never feel worthy of him. That life he was imagining, it belonged to another version of them, one that in a universe where one terrible night hadn't ruined their chance. Maybe one day Brook and Mateo would find their way back to each other - Brook would never rule that out, not with his oldest friend, not when they were sitting here together after everything they'd gone through - but he couldn't bring himself to say that to Mateo.

Prepared for Mateo to cast him away again (and knowing he would deserve it), Brook was instead shocked by when Mateo said he didn't hate him. "You don't?" he asked, eyes wide. "You should, and not just for this." For a moment, there was just silence between them, and then finally Brook said, "For the record, I'm glad you don't. Also...it's weird hearing you call me Dr. Adams." He laughed as he said this, though it was a cautious, uncertain sort of laugh, not knowing where they stood still. "I don't think I'll be fine if you leave, you're wrong about that. Just managing to survive is not the same as being happy and thriving you know." Yeah, Brook would keep going without Mateo, but he didn't know how he would go back to existing without him again.

"He...he's definitely extraordinary," Brook confirmed slowly, not sure how much was too much right now to tell Mateo. "But Mat, you are too. I've always thought that. And now you've proven it again by dropping everything and moving across the country in pursuit of love. Do you have any idea how brave that is? I ran away, but you were running toward something." Maybe it hadn't worked out, but it didn't diminish what Mateo had done and how much courage it had shown.

Again Mateo surprised Brook, whose eyes widened even more. "You're staying?" he asked, astonished. This was not at all what he had expected. "Are you serious?" He broke into a wide smile, and Brook grabbed Mateo's hand, just briefly to squeeze it appreciatively, letting go a second later so as not to make his friend uncomfortable. "I know things might be challenging at first, and we'll have to figure out this new dynamic," Brook reasoned, "but we can get there. We've gone through a lot worse, both separately and together. I just...really need you in my life, Mat."

This reunion... It was not going the way Mateo had envisioned, either. It was quite a poor representation of the lovely scene that'd been conjured in his head. In fact, there had been quite a number of possibilities for it, and not a single one had ever given thought to what if Brook had moved on? That, he supposed, was his own folly. There was all this time, so many, many years between them... He had naturally assumed it would simply always be so.

They ought to be sitting here, holding hands. Fingers linked together, a delicate warmth shared between the two from such a simple and yet intimate thing. And imagine, if he could have stayed with the man? Mateo would have kissed him again, the second they crossed the threshold. He would have dug his fingers into that hair, to satisfy that gnawing curiosity of if it was as soft and delicate as it looked. He would have explored every muscled ridge to Brook, to quell the maddening need to know what the doctor's bare skin felt like against his own. And he would have pressed his own desire, hard and aching, at his thigh because surely, Brook would need personal insight to how distracted he drove Mateo.

These thoughts invaded him now, unbidden and unwelcome. Mateo could hardly stop them, or the way his stare had lowered to Brook's mouth as he spoke. He wished he could kiss him still, even despite this awful news. It brought on that physical ache, the need for him. Mateo discreetly moved a napkin to his lap and cleared his throat, forcing himself to refocus on the meal than the man, for this was perhaps the most inopportune time — rather insanely so, what was he? a lad of thirteen barely able to control himself?! — to get aroused.

What was wrong with him?! Very much.

"Oh, I do not hate you," Mateo corrected Brook with a mocking laugh against himself, taking another undesired bite of grilled cheese. "Trust me, Dr. Adams, hate is the further thing from mind." He sucked a drop of tomato soup from his thumb and grabbed for the tea cup, taking down another gulp or two. Anything to help distract these ridiculous notions.

Brook pleaded that he stay in his life. Had he said he would leave? Though, Mateo highly doubted that things were as dire as his friend put forth. The doctor seemed to have been doing just fine on his own, without him. Hadn't he moved on with another? Didn't he have a career? A life he was slowly and surely building in Cardinal Hill, whether Mateo was there or not? If he should go back to Salem with his tail between his legs, his doctor friend would not break. "I suspect," he said gently, eyes finally daring to lift back to the other man's, "you would do just fine, as you have been." He would not allow himself any fantastical believes to wiggle in there and have him believe that he was some highly necessary aspect to Brook's existence anymore. If he ever truly was. And he wasn't silly enough to say the inverse was true, either. He had a life outside of Brook as well, and if they both need, they would continue on with or without each other. These were simple facts. They'd have no choice.

Now, his laugh as perhaps more genuine. "Silas Addams," he expelled the name in a deep breath of amazement. “How funny,” he went on, a smile curling his lips then, “but I guess if I must lose you to anyone, it’s comforting to know it would be to someone so extraordinary… Of course, how could anyone blame you? Fantastic author, absolutely brilliant mind he must have, and one I’m sure would satisfy just as brilliant a doctor. Very suitable choice.” There could be no way he compared to either of those men, Mateo understood this. To chase after Brook, he had known he was already flying too close to the sun on that one, for he was too much for someone so banal as himself. It had been such a long shot, decades in the making. Perhaps, if he had worked through those traumas sooner, he may have stood a better chance but now? In his forties with so much baggage?

“We’ve spent enough time apart, I should think, don’t you?” He asked this quietly, a sad kind of frown to his mouth and certain ache in his gaze. “I’m tired, Brook. I’m so very tired of pretending I don’t care…” Mateo rested his hands on his lap and inhaled deeply. “I came here for you,” he stated, firmly. “I may have had stupid ideas in my head about how maybe we would finally.. I don’t know, figure a way to love each other as well, but I’d be a liar to say I hadn’t already known, deep inside, that was likely a pipe dream. I’ve got quite a few fantasies in this noggin, it drives me up the wall sometimes..” He chuckled, sadly. “But regardless, I’m here and I have nothing for me in Salem. My life is here now, so I’ll be here. And we will do what we must, to find a different love with ourselves. Perhaps as family, instead.”

Family. Right. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to somehow make the leap of converting this man into family, with the way he made his heart jump with a single certain look, or caused tingles to course through him anywhere Brook touched… but, he would certainly try.

Because as he said, they had spent enough time apart.

[pyralart]

Welp... Tablet died for good. It had been on and off for a bit but I think that's it... Haven't managed to make it work at all these last two weeks, even tried buying a new cable for it.

Man.

Guess that means no drawings for a while... Sorry folks😔

[vaguely-concerned]

we've had a death in the family (a long expected one, to be clear, but sad nonetheless :( ) and the funeral is across the country on the day after veilguard releases, so my wait now has a few more days added to it. oh well if I've waited ten years I can wait until the monday after launch haha

[sylphwing]

was abt to make a post complaining abt how long it was taking to get this shiny poliwag but they just popped up! (244 S.O.S chain)

[bizarrelovetriangel]

r e l a x.

they give you a massage (sylus, caleb, xavier) / you give them a massage (zayne and rafayel).

mdni. 18+ only. fingering. handjob. oral (male and female giving and receiving). dry humping. creampie. overstimulation.

sylus

You've had a busy week at work and your body has been terribly sore, so Sylus offered to give to a massage.

Instead of feeling relaxed like he said you would be, you're gripping the bedsheet and biting down the back of your own hand, completely flustered and tensed.

Sylus knows exactly what he's doing with his hands and yet, he refuses to admit to his crimes by playing clueless.

As if you can't see his smirk after accidentally brushing his hands against the sides of your breast for the third time in just five minutes.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Didn't I tell you to relax? Just close your eyes and trust me. I'll make you feel good."

You're cursing Sylus so hard in your head.

You're on his bed, lying on your stomach with absolutely no cover.

You've once gotten a massage from an actual professional massage therapist before, so you know removing your clothing is just protocol.

What's different from the massage you're getting right now are all the 'accidental' touches that your unofficial massager has been doing.

Sylus is hovering over your figure with his knees on the sides of your hips and planted on the mattress while his hands are kneading your figure.

On one hand, the oil that he's using smells wonderful, and his strong hands really does wonders when he's pressing down and pulling at your tensed muscles the right way.

On the other hand, he's teasing you so much that you can't even feel at peace.

It started off with brief, almost unnoticable brushes on the sides of your breasts as his hands roam around your torso, feeling up your sore spots.

It wasn't until his hands began to linger a little too long on your ass that you grew suspicious of his actions.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt and kept quiet, closing your eyes and burying your face against the soft pillow. You thought, maybe, you can just fall asleep while he gives you a massage, even if he has to keep himself entertained along the way.

But you learned quickly that you will certainly not be able to fall asleep for as long as Sylus' hands are on you.

As he's stroking the back of your thighs, his hands traveled up to your ass once again, and this time his thumbs had gotten lost to graze the folds of your vagina.

Your head shot up in shock.

Sylus pretends not to notice.

He starts to hum a song while his hands slide down to your aching calves, giving them a good squeeze that had you wincing.

Only then did Sylus give you a look. "Something wrong, sweetie?"

"You...."

"Hmm?"

"You know what you're doing." You narrowed your eyes at him accusingly.

He tilted his head. "I'm not a professional, but of course I know what i'm doing. You have nothing to worry about."

You scoffed and put your face back down on the pillow. It looks like you're just going to have to deal with all the antics. You'll get your revenge later on.

Or so you thought.

The little not-so-accidental touches soon became more obvious and unbearable.

After several more minutes of Sylus' game of mixing in actual good massage techniques with lecherous caresses, he stopped trying to be subtle.

His fingers now had their undivided attention on your core and making their way inside you. Your hips reflexively raised as the wave of tingling sensation took over, and Slyus gently pushed them back down against the mattress.

"You're tensing up, sweetie."

There was that smirk again.

"And whose fault is that?!"

"Yours, obviously. You wouldn't need a massage if you didn't overwork yourself."

You hate that he's right even when he's trying to deflect your accusations. "Hmph."

After giving him a playful smack on the chest, you rested the side of your face against the pillow and closed your eyes.

Not a second later, his fingers are moving deeply in and out of your pussy, now wet with oil and from your arousal.

Your breath hitched at his fast pace, gripping the sheets of the bed with while listening to the lewd sounds of his sticky fingers going inside your oil-covered slit.

Your right arm reached behind you to capture his hand. You wanted to make him pause for a moment just to give yourself a moment to breathe before you burst right then and there.

He was quick to figure out your intention, so Sylus got your wrist first and pinned it on your back, just with one hand.

The bed shook slightly as he lowered his hips onto you. His placed his other hand on the mattress, right by the side of your chest to support his weight so that he's not crushing you.

His cock is pressed up right against your ass.

You were so distracted by his fingers that you failed to notice when he had pulled down his pants and boxers. Now, he's throbbing and rubbing his pre-cum on your skin.

Sylus took a moment to wipe a drop of sweat on your forehead before kissing it.

"This...isn't a massage, Sylus."

"I told you, didn't I? I'll make you feel good."

He slowly went into you.

And almost immediately, you clenched up at how good he felt. Sylus took a sharp breath before lowering his chest on your back and wrapping his left arm around your neck.

Not tight enough to choke you, but just so he could keep your face against him as he starts to move faster and harder.

All the oil he put all over your body during the massage had now been spread onto him too as every inch of him connected to you.

The air around you becomes heavy. His low groans and your muffled moans mingle with the sound of your bodies roughly colliding repeatedly.

He didn't stop for a second. Not until he was out of breath. Not until you came first. Only then did Sylus allow himself to come, right on your ass and back.

"Sylus...."

Out of breath, you flipped over as Sylus looks down at you while running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"You better not be giving anyone else a massage like the one you just gave me."

He chuckled. "Of course not, kitten. That special service is reserved only for you."

"Good." You winced as you felt your hips twinge. "Because you kinda suck. I'm now more sore than before the massage - hey, can you at least try not to look so proud?!"

zayne

It's not unusual for Zayne to be overworked, given his highly demanding job. That's why you often find yourself pampering him on his days off. This time, you decided to give him a massage so that you could help to relieve his tensed muscles.

You're not a professional, but you have learned from Zayne himself how to properly give a decent massage, as he had given you one a couple of times before. He was describing to you what he was doing and explaining what it does to your joints and muscles, so you can at least do the basics.

Right now, he's lying down on the white couch of his living room, stripped down to his boxers and facing the ceiling. You're by his side, kneeling down on the floor and sitting on the back of your feet so that you're in the same level and can easily move around.

His glasses are off and his eyes are closed, enjoying the way your hands are pressing his biceps while listening to you ramble about what you've been up to at work.

"Oh! and I just remembered something annoying that happened the other day!"

As you broke into a rant, you failed to notice that your hands had increased their strength as they moved around Zayne's lower abdomen.

Your fingers squeezed his abs, though your mind was mostly focused on giving Zayne the full details of a particular problem you had at work.

You didn't catch the way Zayne's heart skipped a beat, and the way his breath started to become uneven as your hands moved on to his thighs.

You were so distracted with your own thoughts that your ears didn't pick up the quiet groans coming out of Zayne's mouth as you rub down his quads.

His legs twitched as your fingers darted to the inside of his thighs, and he let out a cough when your fingers brushed against his bulge behind his boxers.

And yet, you still haven't caught on.

Zayne started to sweat nervously as he tries to keep his thoughts and his body tamed: to stop blood from rushing south.

But it's already too late.

He's already hard and throbbing.

Especially when you're patting him down all around the one place that's begging for your attention.

"Darling..."

"- and then I was like - huh?"

You snapped back to reality when one of Zayne's hand caught your right one.

"...here..."

Your gaze shifted from his red ears, to his adam's apple that bobbed as he gulped, and down to where he placed your hand, which was right on the big tent that formed in his boxers.

At last, you understood what he wanted and immediately granted his wish.

You tugged on the band of his boxers and pulled it down to his calves, and Zayne fully discarded it by moving his own feet and kicking it off him.

You wrapped one hand around his cock and rubbed your thumb against its tip, spreading the pre-cum that oozed out of it.

His stomach tightens up as your fist moved up and down, and low grunts emerged from his lips as you picked up your pace.

The sight of his flushed, swollen cock had your mouth and your core soaked with hunger.

You squeezed your thighs together as you placed your weight on your knees, then you moved your face towards his hips and ran your tongue from the tip to the base of his cock.

Zayne took a sharp breath once your mouth swallowed him down. He ran a hand across his chest, feeling his own heart racing as he watched your head bob up and down, with some strands of your hair falling out of place.

He closed his eyes as you moved faster. His hips jolted up reflexively, making you take even more of him. He forced himself to hold back on thrusting into your mouth, but you were the one that pulled him even farther down your throat while your hands took care of the rest that you couldn't reach.

Your name falls out of his lips before ropes of cum suddenly shoots into your mouth, spilling out from your lips.

Zayne's moans did nothing to your clenching cunt as you watch his cock continuously twitch, even after his release.

Though you didn't have to wait for long because without even giving himself time to recover from his orgasm, Zayne sat up and pulled you onto his lap.

His mouth desperately meets yours while his hands are already working on undressing you. "...need you..." he mutters between kisses.

You complied and helped him get rid of your underwear, then you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Still, you paused for a moment to ask, "Aren't you sore though? I don't want you to feel even more tired. I'll - "

"I'm fine." Zayne cuts you off with certainty in his tone and desire in his eyes. "I just want to feel you."

As a silent response, you kissed his lips and locked your thights around his hips. Zayne adjusted himself before his cock penetrates you completely.

You wanted to spare him from moving, since, despite of his reassurance, his muscles really are overworked. You swayed your hips against him, but it seems that Zayne couldn't stay still either because he continued to push his cock into you.

He buried his face against your neck and his mouth sucks off your skin while his hands grips your ass hard. His heavy breaths stutter as both of your strengths increase, causing your flesh to clash at every second.

You re-adjusted your steady grip on his shoulders before taking control by grinding down his cock hard and fast.

Zayne catches one of your breasts into his mouth and lightly bites your nipple, earning a loud gasp out of you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and the noise you made had echoed from his own mouth.

"C-coming...!"

You reached your climax around the same time. Zayne didn't have time nor power to pull out and your hips felt stuck against his, so all of his load was shot inside of you.

Zayne softly pressed his lips on your left shoulder before resting his forehead against it as he catch his breath.

You combed your fingers through his hair before attempting to get off of him. Zayne, however, kept you trapped against him with his hands remaining on your ass, pressing you down on him.

"Let's just stay like this.... for a little longer...."

caleb

The very second he arrived at your apartment and saw your overall worn out appearance, Caleb declared himself as your butler for the weekend. Not only did he do all the cooking and cleaning, he also decided that you needed a massage.

So here you are, lying face down on your bed, only wearing your underwear, with Caleb hovering over you with his knees on the side of your hips, running his hands throughout your body to fix your aching muscles.

He's actually doing an amazing job. Only a few minutes after he started and you're already feeling your body loosening up.

"Have you ever given anyone else a massage before?" you asked curiously, lifting your face from your pillow for a moment.

"Nope." Caleb grins. "You're my very first customer, pip-squeak. Don't forget to rate me at the end of my service, okay?"

"Mhmm."

You assume he just did his research very well, as always. Since you're in good hands, you decided to give in to the warmth and comfort he's providing and closed your eyes for a little nap.

Little did you know...

Caleb couldn't be more glad you're not looking at him right now.

He's having a big problem and it's demanding to be freed and inserted into something. Into someone.

He truly did have the full intention of giving you the best massage you'll ever have. He noticed that your body isn't in good condition because of your work, and the least he could do is make you feel relaxed with a massage.

The good news is that it seems to be working well, and you're even starting to fall asleep, which means your body is relaxing.

The bad news is that he underestimated his self-control. He had taken showers with you without popping a boner, and yet....

The sight of you lying so beautifully underneath him only in your red bra and panty had gotten his mind wandering along with his hands.

Every time he massaged the insides of your thighs, his eyes automatically flickers to your crotch as he gets a glimpse of your pussy behind your underwear.

He wanted, so badly, to bury his face between your thighs and have a taste of you. But even more, he wanted your body to feel relaxed. He didn't want to disturb you right now, so Caleb suppressed his desires.

It's not the first time, anyways. Before you were aware of his feelings, before you became an official couple, he always had to hide his sexual urges from you.

So, this is nothing. That's what Caleb repeatedly told himself as he continues to give you a massage.

Still....

It's okay to adjust himself once every while, right? His boxers and pants are getting uncomfortably tight, after all. He just needs to adjust it for a second.

Caleb stuck a hand in pants to get rid of the discomfort.

Then, he pumped his cock a few times.

'Fuck...'

He lets out a shaky breath before withdrawing his hand and resting it on the small of your back. His own actions only made things worse because now, he's throbbing uncontrollably and his thighs are pulsing. His hands are sweating, his stomach is clenching, and his face is burning.

He forced himself to keep going with the massage, but he was only torturing himself. The more he touched you, the more he wanted you.

"Hmm? Caleb, are you done?" you asked as his hands no longer made contact with your body.

"I..." Caleb's incomplete response came out low and deep.

Suddenly, his chest fell against your back and his lips grazed your right ear. His heavy breaths tickled you before his lips softly met your skin.

"I need you."

He rutted his crotch against your ass and your eyes widen at the feeling of his stiff cock through his pants.

He growled under his breath before moving faster, causing your body to bounce against the mattress of your bed.

"Caleb..."

You raised your hips to meet his, and his hands quickly latches to your waist before humping you even harder.

You slowly turned around and put your hands on the back of his neck, then you kissed him deeply and pulled him down with you.

Caleb moans into the kiss while his hands quickly removed his pants and boxers. You pulled away for a moment to help him undress, then your bodies re-attached like magnets soon after.

He wasted no time putting his cock inside you, spreading your thighs farther apart so he could pound as much of him into you as far as possible.

Your bed creaked and shook at every moment he made. The air around you feels hot, and you found yourself gasping loudly and clutching onto his back as he picks up the pace.

You cried softly against his neck as you came, and your toes curled as he relentlessly chased after his own high, drilling into you while clasping your hands. Soon, his hips stutters and he pulls out right before shooting his load right across your chest.

After using his shirt to wipe your chest, Caleb collided beside you, catching his breath as he stares at the ceiling.

You propped on your elbow and faced him sideways with a grin on your face.

"Hey, Caleb." Your fingers toyed with the pendant of his necklace. "You wanted me to rate your service, right? I'd give it a 4.5 out of 5."

He lets out a laugh, catching your hand and kissing your fingers. "What was the 0.5 deduction for?"

"...need another round..."

"Oh?" Caleb raised a brow, unable to hold back a smirk at your flustered expression. "Weeeell then, please allow me to compensate."

rafayel

Rafayel accepted your offer to give him a massage, especially since his back and shoulders have been tensed after painting for days with very little to no rest.

You had been away for work so you couldn't scold him properly to take breaks, and now you want to make up for your absence by helping him relax.

Not even five minutes after you started, Rafayel wondered if he had made a bad decision.

Today, for some reason, he's extra sensitive and not just emotionally, but physically, too.

Earlier, you breathed too close to his neck and he got chills, and not out of fear. You put your hand on his chest for thirty seconds and his heart wanted to jump out of his body. You slid your fingers down to his stomach, and blood rushed below his hips.

Rafayel shifted nervously on his bed. He's only wearing a single towel wrapped around his hips, and he's facing down against the mattress so that you could have easy access to his back and shoulders.

As you heavily but carefully drew circles on his upper back, Rafayel groaned against his pillow. You took that as a positive sign that he's feeling good from your massage, so you continued.

You pressed down to his lower back and giggled at the way he twitched.

"I didn't know you're ticklish here, Raf."

"...I'm not..."

Your thumbs moved in circular patterns just above his hips, slightly nudging the towel covering him. He lets out another sigh of relief, so you exerted more pressure down to his muscles.

Your eyes darted to his face for a moment and you wondered why his ears have turner red. Was it because of the massage?

"Rafayel, am I doing okay? If you want me to stop, just tell me - "

"No, don't stop!" he replied a little too quickly. "I mean.... keep going. You're doing great, cutie!"

"If you say so. Just making sure I'm not hurting you, that's all."

"Not at all!"

Rafayel stiffens as your hands returned to his back, as that's where he told you is the most painful part of his body is.

However, he needed your hands somewhere else.

Rafayel took a deep breath before turning around to face the ceiling. He's doing his best to breathe calmly, but his thoughts are making it impossible.

"What's wrong? did I - "

Rafayel grabbed one of your hands and guided it to his chest and let it travel down to his stomach, then right below his hips. His cock was standing tall through his towel, aching for your touch.

"It hurts here, too. Will you help me?"

You silently agreed with a nod, unable to take your eyes off his reddening cock, feeling as if you're in a trance.

Wrapping your hands around his shaft tightly, you slowly began to stroke him. A shaky, quiet moan comes out of Rafayel's lips.

Just a brief touch and he already feels like he's going to burst. He's unable to stop himself from fucking your hand, legs spread out and fingers grasping the bed sheets.

Rafayel cursed under bis breath as he came faster than he'd liked. He had come right on your hand and some had gotten to your face.

You licked the cum that got lost to your lips and Rafayel's face flushed at such a lewd image. He pulled you into the bed and embraced you sideways to cover your neck with passionate kisses

While he distracted you by leaving hickies below your jaw, his hands got rid of your shorts. You gasped as his fingers made contact with the crotch of your panty.

You grinded your ass against his hips to encourage him to continue, and so Rafayel moved your underwear aside and put his cock in you, at the same time his fingers massaged your clit.

His name comes out of your mouth as your body curls up with pleasure, allowing him to fuck you at a better angle.

"So good..." he pants against your ear, struggling to move at a slow pace.

He wanted to take his precious time to feel you, yet he also wanted to go fast just like what his throbbing cock in desperate need for release wants him to do.

In the end, he managed to keep things slow and sensual, appreciating every inch of you without a rush.

You rolled your hips back against him to meet him half-way, coating his cock with your slick as you struggle to contain your own desire for him.

Rafayel whines from behind you as you feel him picking up speed. "C-coming..." He tightened his hold on your hips before losing all his control and hammering into you, causing you to match the loud moans that he was letting out.

He quickly pulls out and rubs his cock against your legs before painting your skin with strings of his cum.

After coming not a minute after him, you turned around to face him. You brought a hand to his hair and brushed some sweaty strands away from his face, then you kissed his nose.

"So this is what happens when you get a massage."

"...only from you." he pouts. "Now, I feel even more tired. I'll have to stay in bed all day tomorrow. You'll stay with me, right, cutie?"

"Hmmm... nope."

"Why?! Is it because you don't love me?"

You flicked his forehead with your fingers. "Someone has to stop Thomas from barging in the room to see my lazy, exhausted fishie slacking off."

"Ah." He smiles and hugs you tightly, nuzzling his face against yours. "my hero."

xavier

It's not that you're ticklish.

There's just something about the way Xavier is kneading your body that makes it difficult for you to suppress amused giggles.

It might have something to do with his soft touches that doesn't help much with your sore muscles, although it does make bring you lots of warmth, comfort and joy.

That's why you allowed Xavier to give you a massage. He insisted that he gives you one after reading online that it'll help with tensed joints and muscles, so he watched some tutorial videos beforehand.

Now, you're on your couch, lying down facing the ceiling. According to Xavier, the less clothes, the more effective the massage will be. So, you decided to strip down completely but put a small towel over your breasts and crotch.

You're not even really sure why you bothered to cover up, considering Xavier has seen you naked more than enough times to feel shy.

In fact, when he saw you with the towels, he looked a little confused, though he never asked about it. He only told you to lie down and get comfortable.

After following his instructions, Xavier's first step was to give a few drops of oil on your stomach. It's slightly warm on your skin, and its scent was something similar to the fragrances that you frequently use.

He gave your tummy a few rubs, and you couldn't help but smile at how careful and gentle he was being.

When it was time for him to take care of your sore spots, you bit the inside of your cheek to stop your laughter.

You did feel some pressure, which felt nice. It just didn't last for long, as Xavier didn't exert the right amount of force.

It's not that he doesn't have enough strength - of course, he does; he is a strong hunter, after all. More likely, he's unsure of how much pressure to apply, at what angle, and for how long.

While it's not the best massage you'll ever get, he's still making you feel happy and relaxed in his own way. That's all that matters.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Xavier asked as he pressed on your hamstrings.

"Nope. I'm okay! Keep going, Xavier! You're doing great!"

"Okay!"

The way his face lit up had you melting and wanting to cuddle him. He's just too precious for his own good.

"...."

Ten minutes later, your eyes snapped wide open as you felt something....different, touch your thighs.

"What was that...?"

You looked at your legs and caught Xavier red-handed, pressing his lips on your inner right thigh.

"It's fine." He smiles at you. "It's part of the massage."

"...is it?"

"Mhmm. Just relax. It'll make your body feel better."

He resumed on applying pressure with his hands on your legs, so you brought your head back down on your pillow and closed your eyes for a little nap.

A minute later, you felt another kiss on your other thigh. You decided not to question him and let him do whatever he wanted.

But after the third kiss, which was slightly higher than the previous two, your muscles tensed up. Particularly, your pussy clenched as his lips lingered dangerously close to your core.

He does it a few more times, and the moans he's muffling against your skin absolutely didn't help your case: it only made you wet. And with Xavier being so close, he might notice.

He's over here, sacrificing his time and energy to help you feel relaxed, and yet you're getting turned on.

No, no, no. You'll have to control yourself. At least, wait until after he's done.

"Ngggnnhh,,,"

Oh god, he's doing it again.

This time, his kisses are even louder and higher. His hands are holding up your thighs so he can make space for himself.

You didn't even notice until now that Xavier no longer stood by the side of the couch, but he's now on it, too. He's right between your legs.

While you're looking down, Xavier met your gaze and your held your breath for a second. You know that look. It's the same one he often gives you in the bedroom during intimate activities.

"Xavier...."

"...I'm adding my own special techniques in the massage."

He scooted closer to your hips and lowered his face to give your thighs more kisses.

"This might be more effective."

Your face burned as you felt his tongue slide against your sensitive skin. You were unable to look away from Xavier's intense gaze directly on you.

"It feels good, right?"

You failed to come up with a coherent response as the towel that poorly covered your crotch had been dropped on the floor.

"I know you're still sore, so just stay like that." Xavier lowered himself so his chest is not too far from touching the couch. He's propped on his elbows and peeking at you between your legs. "I'll help you relax."

With that, Xavier's mouth rams into your cunt. His tongue feels your folds while his hands clings onto your thighs, spreading them wider.

You arched your back and hissed at his actions. One of your hands reached to down Xavier's face, but he caught it with his left and intertwined his fingers with yours, letting it drop to your side.

He gave you no time to calm down; his lips and tongue worked fast on making you fall apart just within a few minutes, but only because he had other things in mind.

Xavier pulled down his pants and boxers and brushed his cock against your pussy, not a minute after your orgasm. You were still sensitive, so when his tip traced around your folds, you were unable to keep your volume quiet and your insides felt like exploding.

"Xavier!"

He put the back of your legs over his shoulders, giving himself more space before grinding dick right between your folds. His breathing quietly picked up at the feeling of your core that's soaked just for him.

His eyes darted over to your face for a moment to flash you a smile.

And as much as you love Xavier, you were cursing him in your head.

How could he smile like you like that, as if he's not teasing and torturing you and calling it a 'massage'?

You can't even hate him because every cell in your body craves for him in every way possible. Anytime he smiles at you, you're on your knees for him - sometimes, literally.

"Ah!"

You were pulled out of your trance as soon as Xavier put himself inside fully you in one hard thrust.

His face flushes and his eyes are fixed on your breasts, watching them move along with the rest of your body as he repeatedly snaps his hips against yours.

The couch budges and the wooden floor creaks at Xavier's heavy plunges. The grunts leaving his parted lips joins your cries of pleasure and the sounds that your bodies are making as they collide.

Xavier is too far from your reach and there was nothing for you to hold onto, so you ended up running your hands down to your chest and squeezing your breasts as you gasp for air.

He let out a low growl under his breath as he watched your movements. He fucked you even faster at the same time he lowered his face down to your chest.

He captured your hands and pinned them by your sides before his mouth sucks in your left breast, with his tongue circling around your nipple.

He then switched to do the same on your right breast, though his teeth slightly nipped you as he felt his hips tingling.

Xavier made sure to push his cock in the deepest part of you before cumming. His voice echoes throughout your living room as he released every drop inside you while still his rolling his hips, slower and slower until his stamina is drained.

Your release quickly followed after his cock was pulled out. Xavier rested his body on top of yours, with his face on your chest, listening to your racing heart.

While you breathe heavily, your index finger traced the shell of his left bright red ear. His skin is slightly glowing with white light, too, as his evol sometimes acts up during or after he has an orgasm.

You'll never not be in awe of him.

"Hey, Xavier. Are you feeling tired?"

"Mhmm..."

He's sleepy now.

"Do you...want a massage?"

He opened one eye to catch your teasing grin "....if it's like the one I gave you...yes, please..."

"By the way, what kind of massage tutorial videos did you watch? They're kinda not that effect- "

"Don't worry about it."

[steddiehyperfixation]

silly little thing for my @steddiebingo prompt: nerds | 758 words | T |

"Hey, maybe he can help," Robin says, sweeping a hand towards Dustin who's just walked into Family Video for his regularly scheduled afterschool bug Steve and Robin time, interrupting their conversation.

"Oh come on." Steve shakes his head. "The kid doesn't want to hear about my trash heap of a love life."

"Oh, no, I absolutely want to hear about that." Dustin perks up at the opportunity to learn about Steve's trivial suffering.

"We're trying to figure out why Steve goes on a million dates but can't seem to find someone he actually likes," Robin fills Dustin in. "Tell him, Steve."

Steve groans, dragging his hands over his face before splaying them out sarcastically, as that's the only thing he can really do in protest right now. Dustin's looking at him expectantly, and Steve has no choice but to tell the kid all about Linda and Heidi and Brenda and Lucy and whoever else he's been out with recently, doing his best to answer any subsequent questions as PG as possible.

"Well of course you haven't found the one yet, you keep trying to date a bunch of normal, basic, girly girls. That's not your type," Dustin informs him once Steve's done talking.

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Oh, it isn't?"

"You can't really be that stupid, can you?"

"No, please, Henderson, enlighten me on what you think my type is."

"You're into nerds," he says like it's completely obvious.

Steve scoffs. "I am not into nerds. You know, just because I hang around you little weirdos all the time does not actually mean I want to hang around even more weirdos in all the other aspects of my life too."

"Seriously, Steve, think about it," Dustin argues. "Think of all the girls you've actually been really genuinely into in your life. They've all been nerds! Nancy-"

"- is not a nerd."

"She's a straight-A student and a journalism super geek. She's a nerd."

Steve rolls his eyes and sighs grudgingly. "Alright, fine, but-"

"And you were into Robin-"

Robin wrinkles her nose. "Ugh, don't remind me."

"-who you can't deny is definitely a nerd," Dustin continues.

"You know what, actually, he does have a point," Robin says.

Steve looks at her in betrayal. "Don't encourage him!"

"That girl you told me about that you liked in middle school who was super into Star Trek, and the other one who wanted to write a fantasy novel one day- oh and the elementary school crush who was always reading a new book every day..." Robin lists, ticking each one off on her fingers.

"I told you all that in confidence!"

"They were all nerds!"

"Exactly." Dustin grins, vindicated and insufferably smug. "Ergo, you, Steve Harrington, need to find yourself a nerd."

"I am not into nerds!" Steve protests hopelessly.

"What more proof do you need?" Dustin says. "You're into nerds."

"Totally into nerds," Robin concurs.

Steve huffs and throws up his hands. "Fine! I'll admit I'm into nerds if it will make you two shut up about it!"

Eddie happens to wander into the previously empty store at that exact moment, catching the tail end of the conversation as he approaches the counter. "What's all this about nerds?"

Steve freezes, glances Eddie over and stares at him strangely for a few long seconds. "Holy shit," he mutters.

His gaze cuts to Robin, whose eyes go wide when she meets his look. "Holy shit," she agrees.

"Oh my god."

"Oh my god."

"Dude."

"Dude!"

Eddie blinks at them. "Are you two having some sort of joint stroke or something?" He looks at Dustin as if the kid might have a better clue of what's going on. "Can you understand them?"

Dustin shrugs, equally mystified. "Don't look at me, man. They're weird."

The incomprehensible parroting conversation is still going on.

"Okay," Steve's saying, taking a deep breath in through his nose and exhaling determinedly.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." Robin grins and shoves at his shoulder.

Steve finally turns back around and leans on the counter in front of Eddie with a classically charming smile. "So, Eddie, are you free on Saturday?"

Eddie smiles back despite his confusion. "Yeah-"

"Oh my god!" Dustin bursts out suddenly.

"Oh my god," Robin agrees with a knowing smirk.

Eddie glances at Dustin. "Oh no, not you too."

Steve exhales a long-suffering sigh and pushes himself off the counter, marching around to grab Eddie by the hand and drag him away from Dustin and Robin. "So. Saturday?"

"He's into nerds," Dustin whispers, wide-eyed.

Robin nods sagely. "He's into nerds."

[saeist]

what people don't know about sae itoshi is that despite being known as the nonchalant final boss, he's actually the most chalant person known to man when it comes to his lover

it's quite hilarious really. people who know about your relationship usually come to you and ask how the soccer super star prodigy has been treating you but you always answer the same— he's treating you well

although people don't really buy it. the way sae acts around you in public is rigid at best. yes, he's your boyfriend and yes, he loves you very much but when you two are out and about, media outlets just can't help but publish articles about how the famed midfielder is totally "an emotional unavailable partner" (sae reports every single article about this btw)

sae itoshi is a man of few words. letting his actions talk for him is one way to put it

but behind closed doors? it's another story

it might be considered a legend that the sae itoshi is actually a pretty hands on boyfriend. in fact, sometimes it becomes a little too much when he dotes on you so much

one time you texted him that you had a headache for a while now and you almost forgot who you were texting the second he replies that it's because you didn't do this and that today

[3:14 PM] mi corazón: ? [3:14 PM] mi corazón: did you drink water today? i didn't see you drink before i left for training [3:15 PM] mi corazón: have you eaten? fucking hell don't tell me you "forgot" to eat again because you were caught up at work? [3:16 PM] mi corazón: wya? i'll order you food. ask your shitty co workers what they want too so i can treat your department while i'm at it. tsk [3:17 PM] mi corazón: tsk. what will you do without me [3:17 PM] you: sae... it's just a headache.... it's hot out today [3:18 PM] mi corazón: you forgot to bring the fucking umbrella i got you from pasotti? [3:19 PM] you: ykw i don't have a headache anymore [3:20 PM] mi corazón: read 3:20 PM

another time was you had joined him into going on a hike with his friends (shidou and aiku) and you accidentally had spluttered mud all over your legs

aiku and shidou were kind enough to stop so you could clean yourself up but you simply brush it off and say that it's part of the nature experience of hiking but sae thought otherwise

he grabbed a wet wipe from his backpack (another hc: he comes prepared like a boyscout with shit like this like personal hygiene shit💀), kneels down behind you and starts wiping the mud off your legs

much to everyone's surprise

"be careful next time" sae mutters, wiping the last bit of mud on your calf before disposing the now dirty wipes away

when you don't say anything, sae looks up and raises a brow

"what?"

he then watches your eyes motion to the bystanders being aiku and shidou, who both had their jaws dropped to the floor

who knew their little soccer super star friend could be this down bad to their lover?

sae immediately gets up from the ground, brushing his trousers as he clears his throat. as if that could erase that beautiful moment shared with you from aiku and shidou's minds

"tsk. don't make a big deal out of it" sae clicks his tongue in annoyance as he leads the pack back on the trail. consciously ignoring aiku and shidou's loud giggles and teasing

sae knows damn well that they won't ever live this down but who cares. if it's you, he'd do anything in a heartbeat

a few weeks pass by and wow, was sae right. those two idiots did not in fact live it down. so much that they just had to leak it to the media that the nonchalant final boss, sae itoshi isn't the final boss to nonchalance after all

the first thing he sees on his phone was a new article posted by pop base

[EXCLUSIVE] SAE ITOSHI ISN’T EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED AFTER ALL? JUICY INSIDERS SCOOP!

when he takes a peek at the article (before he reports it), it was oddly specific and detailed about that one hiking trip you had a few weeks ago. he didn't have to put two and two together to figure out who these "juicy insiders" were

"god damn it" sae clenches his jaw as he continues to skim through the article

suddenly sae hears you burst out laughing from the living room

oh no.

sae trudges to your shared living room with your own cup of kombucha for the day and sees you laughing your ass out while reading the same article

"stop reading that" sae groans, settling down the cup on the coffee table. he takes a seat next to you and leans his head on top of yours

"they're right you know" you giggle, reading the article "for a guy who acts all cold and collected on the outside, you sure are the exact opposite on the inside"

sae rolls his eyes, "gee. i wonder where they got that information from. i'm going to kill both of them" he mutters, pertaining to shidou and aiku

"you're just embarrassed that you've been exposed for the secret lover boy you are"

"they don't need to know what goes on behind closed doors" he points out. true

"okay lover boy. whatever you say" you laugh, holding your hands up in surrender. there was no point with arguing with sae when it comes to shit like this

there's a moment of silence after that. you glance up to catch sae quietly looking at you. like he was all caught up in the moment within your shared humble abode

"jesus. you really are down bad" you gasp quietly, covering your mouth pretending to be shocked. sae snaps out of his little trance hearing your words and flicks your forehead

"am not!"

"are so!"

"no!"

"yes!"

"i love you" you interject, catching sae slightly off guard

you meet sae's eyes as they soften. he simply shrugs and wraps an arm around your shoulders as he pulls you close to his chest

"and i love you more— now stop reading that stupid article before i report you and that damn news media outlet"

"sae!"

[vettelsvee]

THE MOMENT I KNEW | Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: After a few races where he didn't get the results he expected, Max decides to go out with some friends to disconnect from everything. Unluckily, one of those days when he arrives home after having some drinks, he finds out that he missed his girlfriend's birthday as soon as he sees the cake she ordered on the trash ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe something angsty?? Like maybe bro goes out with his friends and forgets readers bday until he sees the cake in the trash can and realizes bro screwed up

WORD COUNT: 2007

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of being drunk, angst

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: I've absolutely loved this one my God. With this fic, we mark a total of 6196 words written this week (not counting my uni essays and other several projects), so I'm quite proud about that! Also, thank you so much for the support all this week, hope you liked all the fics! I'll be uploading this upcoming week's posts tomorrow. Let me know in the comments or on the anon inbox your thoughts on this one! See you next week :) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Max stumbled into your apartment, fumbling with the keys and opening the door with trembling hands, his pounding headache reminding him that it wouldn’t be this bad if he’d listened to the bartender’s advice to stop after the last gin tonic.

As soon as he stepped inside, he froze in the doorway, scanning everything as if it were his first time entering the place, even though he had been living there for nearly five years, the last two with you. He took a few unsteady steps toward the small entryway counter, where he dropped his keys and realized the silence was far heavier than he had anticipated.

His laughter, faint and fueled by the false sense of security that alcohol had provided, quickly dissipated. Taking a cautious step further into the living room, he noticed there were no lights on, no plates or leftover food on the small coffee table in front of the TV, and most strikingly, you were neither sprawled out on the couch watching one of the romantic movies you adored nor curled up asleep with one of your cats.

Despite the glaring signs, Max didn’t panic, at least not as much as he should have, even though something inside him whispered that the situation didn’t sit right.

It wasn’t until he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water and rounded the island that his foot stumbled slightly, nearly sending him sprawling to the floor. Puzzled, he looked down to see what had caused him to trip. His heart sank when his eyes landed on a discarded box, its lid broken as if it had been thrown to the floor, angrily, on purpose.

That’s when reality hit him like a freight train.

He turned his gaze to the left, where the trash can stood partially open. Inside, he saw an untouched cake, decorated with intricate floral designs and a message that read, “Happy Birthday, Y/N!” The sight struck him like a blow to the chest, the pressure so intense it made him want to vomit.

“No… No, it wasn’t today…” 

Desperately, and trying to figure out what to do, Max ran his hands through his hair, as if that might somehow help him calm down. His breathing grew more erratic with each passing second, his eyes glued to the cake. It didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how he had managed to forget such an important date… you, his girlfriend’s, birthday. Something so obvious had suddenly spiraled into a waking nightmare.

He noticed his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it quickly, he checked for any missed calls or messages from you, only to realize after several failed attempts to turn it on that it was dead. He blamed his drunkenness not only for not noticing he didn’t have his phone with him or that it was out of battery, but for forgetting such a meaningful day and breaking every promise he had made to you.

Deep down, though, he knew all the excuses were hollow. Any justification he tried to offer would be nothing but foolishness.

Setting the phone back on the counter, he decided not to waste any more time. He headed toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, and though the lights were off, he could make out your silhouette lying on the bed, your back turned to him. You gave no sign that you had noticed his arrival. The only sound in the room was your muffled, quiet sobs. As Max stepped closer, he saw you were clutching a pillow tightly, as if it were your only source of comfort.

That was the moment Max realized he couldn’t avoid facing the situation, no matter how impossible it felt to fix things right away.

“Y/N...” he said softly.

You didn’t answer, and your silence hurt more than a thousand words could have. Max knelt beside the bed, close enough to reach out, and gently began stroking your face. You didn’t resist his touch, but your indifference pierced him deeply.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice trembling as he fought to hold himself together. “I swear this wasn’t my intention… I wanted to come home earlier, but Lando insisted we stay a bit longer, and then I didn’t have my phone…”

“You forgot, Max,” you interrupted, your tone sharp but laced with pain, anger, and sadness. You still wouldn’t look at him. “Goddammit, Max, you forgot my fucking birthday ever since the moment the clock struck midnight.”

Max fell silent. Once again, reality hit him square in the face, forcing him to acknowledge that anything he said would likely be inadequate. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to find the words to explain himself calmly, to admit his mistakes while grappling with the weight of his guilt.  

“You know it wasn’t my intention,” he began, his voice low. “It’s just… with the shitty season I’ve been having and everything that comes with it, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. I just needed to step out of my comfort zone for a bit, to clear my head…”  

“And you thought doing that on my birthday, after promising me a dream day, was the most appropriate choice?” you cut him off, finally raising your head. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I know you’re not in a good place right now, but I also know that until now, every promise you’ve made to me, you’ve kept. You didn’t just forget about me, Max. You left me here, alone, all day, like I didn’t matter at all.”  

Max searched desperately for a way to salvage the situation, to apologize, to do something, anything, to prove how deeply sorry he was. But when you turned on the light and sat up to face him, he realized he was out of options. He didn’t know how to continue without disappointing you further.  

“You know this has been really hard for me…”  

“Hard for you? Seriously?” you interrupted, leaning closer and pointing your finger at him. “And you think this has been easy for me? Watching you shut me out, never telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Not to mention your fans… They’re fully convinced that your shitty season is all my fault, that our relationship is ruining your career.”  

“Y/N, I know…”  

That was a lie. He didn’t know. Max had ignored the comments and criticism because, deep down, he believed you weren't to blame for his performance, especially when you rarely even went with him to the races anymore.  

“There’s nothing I can say to argue with you,” Max admitted. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been a complete asshole today, and I’m truly sorry. I love you, Y/N, more than you know…”  

“Are you sure you love me?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you love me, or your damn career? Because lately, it feels like your whole world revolves even more around cars, races, speed, adrenaline, and your constant need to be the best at everything.”  

“Hey…” Max tried, his voice faltering.  

“Every day, you show me more and more that we’re no longer a team… that I’m no longer a part of you. And I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”  

Your words hit him like a dagger, but he knew he deserved them.  

“It’s not just about you forgetting my birthday today, Max. It’s everything. You don’t listen to me… you don’t give me anything, not even a minute of your day, let alone affection or support. Why should I stay in a relationship that, instead of giving me life, is killing me inside?”  

Your words struck him like a bucket of ice water.  

“You don’t get it, do you?” you asked, frustration and sadness mingling in your tone as he stayed silent. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be afraid to show me who you are, flaws and all. But you’ve always done this, Max, keeping me at arm’s length, never letting me into your life.”  

“I don’t do that, Y/N, it’s just that…” he began, summoning his courage to explain, but you cut him off once again.  

“Damn it, Max, yes, of course you do!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you realize that even though I’ve been with you, I’ve been completely alone? Alone, Max, utterly alone! I’ve tried so many times to talk to you, to make you see that a few bad races aren’t the end of the world for someone like you, but…”  

You stopped yourself abruptly, your throat aching and your head pounding. You felt no remorse for the way you were speaking to him since he deserved every word, but you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness. Sadness for the Max Verstappen you had once known. A man who had been so proud of himself and his achievements after years of hard work, now emotionally shattered and, worse, so determined to hide it from everyone, including you.  

“I can’t keep giving you everything I have while you keep taking and taking, without giving anything back.”  

“I’m sorry…” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow.  

“A simple ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t fix anything, Max,” you replied, your voice quieter now but no less wounded. “I wish it were just about today, but like I said, I feel like you’re pushing me further out of your life with every passing day. You’re becoming a stranger to me, Max,” you admitted, trying not to let your voice waver. “You’ve been like this for months, and I don’t know what else to do to stop us from falling apart… though it feels like that’s exactly what you want.”  

“That’s not true,” he answered immediately, desperation in his voice. “Y/N, seriously, I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, tears welling up again. “Because I feel like you’re showing me the exact opposite.” Your voice trembled with the weight of her words. “Sometimes it feels like you love your career, the success you’ve achieved and the crowds chanting your name more than you love me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible. “You know I want to, but… I don’t know how to fix this anymore…”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for some sign, some silent promise that would make you believe things between you could change. But Max’s words only made you realize that you had to stop thinking fantasies and start facing reality.

“Maybe you can’t fix it,” you confessed, the words breaking you from the inside. “I can’t keep going like this, Max… I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough… like I’m not good enough for you.”

“Seriously, there has to be a solution…” he pleaded, his voice full of regret. “I’ll do better from now on, I promise…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You turned to look at him, the pain evident in your expression. “Things won’t magically get better if you take me to dinner or buy me a million-dollar necklace to make up for today. That won’t fix anything, Max…”

“Y/N… Y/N, please… I need you…”

No matter how many times Max said those words, he knew that any promise he made now would be meaningless, especially considering how much he had already failed you.

Feeling that there were no more words left to say between them, you slowly got out of bed. You gathered the few belongings you had on the nightstand and, with a sense of finality, began to pack a bag, all the while feeling Max’s powerless gaze on you.

“I can’t keep waiting, Max,” you said, her voice steady despite the anguish inside. “Today, no matter how much I tried to turn a blind eye, let it go, and even put myself in your shoes… This… everything… after many tries… God, Max, all of this… That was the moment I knew.”

[poguehearted77]

Stormbound

Summary: There's a tropical storm headed straight for the OBX but Rafe won't leave you alone.

smut: dom! rafe, pogue! reader, mentions the pogues, fingering, secret alliances, rafe is a good bad guy, making out, unprotected sex, big dick rafe, choking, teasing, floor sex, missionary, protective rafe, mutual pining but both are too stubborn to admit it.

The rain is just a steady drizzle when you start the long walk back from Figure Eight, cool and misty, soaking through your baby tee and denim shorts, but not quite cold enough to make you turn back.

Not that you would even if it were—the map you’d stuffed in your back pocket was too valuable to leave behind, and JJ had been so insistent that you’d be the one to get it.

It was a worn-out paper, a little frayed around the edges from too many hands clutching it too tight, and tonight, it held the Pogue’s best lead. JJ had been so confident about this—said it’d help them find the next clue, but you were the only one available to get it.

Just in and out, he’d said, sure as always, but of course, that had been before the storm started closing in. Even though you should've been back in the Cut by now, having ridden on the back of JJ's bike as he promised you he would, but of course, he forgot. You cross your arms and mutter to yourself, “Damn it, JJ. This better be worth it.”

The streets around you are silent, eerie even, with all the houses in Figure Eight shuttered up tight in preparation for the coming storm. It’s desolate and unsettling, making you all the more eager to get back to the Cut. But you’re barely halfway there when you hear the low rumble of an engine behind you.

Of course, you think. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is.

Rafe’s truck slows to a crawl, matching your pace, his headlights cutting through the rain. You feel his eyes on you as he leans out the window, looking you up and down with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Y/n? What are you doin' out here?” he calls, loud enough to be heard over the rain.

You ignore him, quickening your steps, but he’s persistent. The truck keeps rolling alongside you, just close enough that his voice still carries over the sound of the rain.

“You know there’s a storm coming, right?” he asks, his tone somehow both mocking and concerned. “You’re not gonna make it back before it hits.” A crack of thunder roars through the sky.

“Really? I didn't know that,” you mutter, not bothering to look his way. “Just go away, Rafe.”

He lets out a sigh, exaggerated, and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Jesus, can you stop being so damn stubborn? Just get in the car. I'll give you a ride back to the Cut.”

“No thanks.” You keep walking, setting your jaw as you ignore the urge to shiver, the rain starting to pick up, chilling you through your soaked clothes. With another quick glance at the darkened sky, you're now considering taking the shortcut along the beach to shave off some time.

But still, Rafe doesn’t drive off. He just keeps creeping along beside you, the engine of his truck a low, constant hum as he matches your pace. “Stop fucking around, Y/n. If you get caught out here you'll never make it back.” He warns but your shoulders shrug.

“I like those odds a hell of a lot better than risking a ride with you.” you snap, the suppressed shiver prevails as the rain intensifies, falling harder, faster, in cold, fat drops that slap against the pavement and blur the world around you.

Thunder rolls in the distance, low and ominous, and Rafe’s truck finally comes to a full stop as he pulls over. A second later, you hear his door slam shut, and when you glance back, he’s striding through the rain toward you, his face set in an exasperated glare.

“Are you done being difficult yet?” His voice cuts through the rain, his eyes locked on you, unyielding and determined. You hasten your pace, heading down the unpaved path towards the beach with Rafe trailing behind you with calls of your name.

This goes on for too long. The rain is relentless now, pouring down in thick sheets that chill you to the bone. Your vision was so distorted you could hardly see where you were going. You feel yourself starting to shiver, but you lift your chin, refusing to back down even as the storm rages around you.

A heavy hand holds you by the shoulder. “Jesus Christ, Y/n. You're gonna get yourself killed! The storm's just getting started-” he says, his exclamations punctuated with a bright bolt of lightning striking down not too far in the distance followed by a boisterous rumble of thunder.

"Shit!" You both curse before Rafe motions to the storage house up ahead, "We've gotta take shelter before shit goes south."

Even in life and death, your naturally skeptical nature overcomes you as you genuinely take the moment to consider the proposition. The rain was pummelling over the both of you, dripping down your faces, causing you both to squint, “Fine.”

For once there's no smugness in Rafe's expression. It's shielded by a look of relief, initially anticipating more resistance but he doesn’t say another word as you rush towards the shed and lock the doors shut.

The shed was spacious but dark. You took a step forward, or maybe a step back, but you weren't sure, almost instantly tripping over what you can only assume was a pale of some sort. You complain, "I can't see shit in here."

"Hang on," Rafe mumbles, followed by the indistinct sound of ruffled pockets and keys clinking together. The familiar spark of a lighter flicks a flame to life and gives you the light you've needed.

For a moment your eyes meet over the lighter. You clear your throat, looking around for something useful to keep the place lit, a gasp of relief falls from your lips as you locate a dusty lantern on the top shelf.

Raising yourself to the tip of your toes, your fingers are just barely grazing over the glass body of the object before a large hard, adorned with a few rings is already reaching over your head and bringing it down.

"I don't need your help." You snatch the lantern out of his grasp and it causes him to lose balance on the lighter in his left hand, the light goes out for a moment before he relights it.

"Can you ever be fucking grateful for once in your life? Would it kill you to say thank you?" He takes the lantern back and lights it, setting it down on the lower shelf.

"Why should I thank you? You're egotistical, narcissistic, selfish-" Your unfiltered rant is cut short by the pressure of his hand wrapped around your throat. You immediately try to move from him but the weight of his grip holds you in place.

"Selfish? Who's the one that made bail for you when you were caught trespassing in Tanny Hill?" Your brows furrow, "What? Shoupe said it was a wrongful arrest." He shakes his head, his hold around your neck loosens but you don't move it. "That was me. Who's the one that made sure you and those pogues made it off Dead Man's Island untouched when you'd stolen from them? Me."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, "That doesn't change the fact you're still an asshole. I saw you tampering with my drink at the bar and I got upset then you threw it at my feet-- "That drink was roofied. I saw the bartender spike it," His hold tightened a little more, "Don't worry, I made sure he couldn't use his hands for a long time."

Your stomach was in knots, for once not in a way that made you seasick anytime you were with Rafe. This time was different, there was slight adoration building within you. His eyes were cold, hard, and protective. Without thinking you slinked your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for the first kiss of many.

The cold shed quickly filled with warmth as you familiarized yourselves with each other's bodies. Your clothes were now in the pale that tripped you earlier and Rafe's shirt was nowhere to be found, possibly hung up on the wall with the life jackets.

Rain lashes against the walls of the shed, a fierce, steady drumming that drowns out every other sound. The wind howls through the cracks, sharp and wild, whistling as it sweeps across the beach, sending gusts of sand and spray pelting against the flimsy structure.

The ruckus was the least of Rafe's concerns as he had you on your back on a pile of beach towels, moaning his name as he fingered you incessantly with his right hand, his left pinning your leg down to stop moving.

"R-Rafe!" Your vision begins to darken, and your heart rate picks up as you quickly stumble toward your high. The lewd sounds of your slick humiliated you, not because of what it was but because Rafe made you like this. You had Rafe Fucking Cameron between your legs and you loved it.

"Yeah? You got somethin' you wanna say?" He teases, his pace relentless and unforgiving as your body spasmed, your wetness covering his fingers as they stretched you open. The coolness of the metal rings adds a cold surprise with every glide.

"I'm-- fuck! Gonna-" You're interrupted by your own orgasm once Rafe accelerates to a pace that you couldn't handle without being blinded by the heavens. "You look so fucking pretty when you come" Rafe remarks, voice deep but a little unstable. Unsure how long he could maintain his composure.

Not long at all it seems.

The moment the bulbous head of his cock had caught in the ring of your wet heat, he sank himself into the hilt. "Shit-Shit- Shit!" A pained his scratches up the walls of his throat, not giving you a second to adjust. Your back arches off the towels, eyes glossy as they stare up at Rafe whose eyes are screwed shut, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as soft grunts fall from his lips.

His eyes open to look down at you, entranced with every movement on your face, looking for any signs to slow down, but your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer. He groans at the extra depth he reaches within your velvet walls. He lowers himself down, dropping teasing kisses on your lips, the some behind your ear, down the side of your neck and you were sick of his antics.

Looping your fingers under his chain you pull him close to you once again, locking your lips with his. The kiss is messy, unrestrained and dangerously intimate for a pogue and a kook to share. "Can't get enough of you," He whispers against your lips, his thrusts slowing down and dragging slower making everything feel deeper.

"Why'd you have to be such a douchebag." You pout between kisses and he chuckles, "Maybe I wouldn't have to be if you weren't such an ungrateful brat." He snaps his hips on impulse causing you to gasp.

"I'm n-not-" You were losing your train of thought and Rafe couldn't concentrate on anything more than the immense wave of pleasure that was breaking down over him.

"Not what? Huh?" You were unable to speak, the coil in your core rapidly igniting, about to snap. Rafe didn't need to hear you say it to know you were close. "Come on, baby. Give it to me. Give me all you got." His gruff tone combined with the pet name had you unravelling beneath him and he came moments later, pulling out and pumping his cum on your stomach.

He kept you warm on the towels, his larger frame wrapped up with yours. You both refused to acknowledge what had just happened when-- "Oh Shit!" You jolt up, rushing to the pale where your clothes had been displaced and you rummage through the pockets of your shorts to find the map that caused all this.

"What's wrong?" You ignore his question once you have the map in your hands, It's still folded, but soaked. You carefully opened it and the ink was partially illegible, but you could still make out some of the words.

"Is that what I think it is?" Rafe asks and you nod slowly, "The map to Kraken's Rest? It was. The rain washed it out." Rafe takes a closer look at the map, asking where you'd gotten this from.

"I.. borrowed it from the museum." You lie. "You don't have to lie to me, I know you stole this-- Did you get it off the display?" You nod, and he tosses the map carelessly into the pale.

Suddenly you remembered why you didn't get along. "What are you doing I need that." You're about to retrieve it when he speaks up. "Museums rarely put the real shit out for the public. All the authentic artifacts are kept in the Kildare vaults."

The good news puts a smile on your face before reality wipes it off, "How am I supposed to get in there unnoticed? They'll catch me before I even make it to the door."

Rafe grins as if the sequence of events has worked itself out too perfectly. "I'm on the guest list for their upcoming exhibit charity gala. The vaults are fingerprint-protected, and I know a guy who's got access. The event is pretty high-profile so I know he'll be there. I can lift his prints and pass them to you during the night so you can get to the vault..."

It sounded like a good plan but how would Rafe get prints to you-- He continues, "But if the plan is gonna work, you'll have to come with me. As my plus one." He's unable to mask the small tug on his lips at the offer and you smile.

[girlyhornywriter]

You're still worried you're going to regret this?

Come on, pig. It's a little late for that, isn't it? You know there's no going back to how things used to be. Not now, after what you've done to yourself. Don't give me that look, you know this wasn't all my idea.

You just wouldn't stop begging to know about my fantasies... I didn't have any choice but to sate your curiosity and tell you that I liked bigger girls. Girls that jiggle when they walk and get out of breath when they walk up the stairs. You know, fat girls. You were so slim, and I didn't expect that you'd want to satisfy my kinks like that, but you said that you'd maybe gain a little weight for me, just so I could squeeze your belly while we made out. Nothing crazy, just an extra meal here and there. You'd keep it under control.

It's not my fault that your fat ass lost all self-control.

You were just having too much fun, weren't you? You loved feeling my hands caressing your soft, sensitive curves. The way I always slipped a hand under your top to give your gut a squeeze whenever I pulled you in for a kiss must have done more to your poor, horny brain than I could have ever imagined...

Well, of course I noticed what was happening, but did you expect me to say anything? You have no idea how much I loved watching you go back for seconds and thirds every time we went to a buffet. I couldn't get enough of hearing your sheepish voice asking if we had any ice-cream left in the freezer immediately after finishing an extra-large dinner. And maybe I didn't help your waistline by offering to drive you everywhere... But at your size back then, you'd have gotten so worn out and exhausted by having to walk more than a couple of blocks.

Not any more, though. Now you can't even make it to the end of the street.

Oh, you think I'm exaggerating? Babe, you haven't hauled your fat, lazy ass off of that couch in days. If it wasn't for the fact that I keep throwing away all your empty bags of snacks once you've poured them down your greedy throat, I'm pretty sure you'd be buried in them by now. Come on, just try to stand up.

...

Gosh, you really tried there, didn't you? There's no way you'd be panting and sweating like this if you hadn't been putting effort into that. I knew you'd become a fat mess, but I didn't realise it was this bad... You're all blubber and lard now, aren't you? Whatever muscle you had is so lost under layer upon layer of soft, jiggling flab that there's no way you're going to work off all these calories of adipose you've eaten onto your figure.

Well yeah, maybe a diet would work, but I'm not going to let you go on one, piglet.

Why? Because I've got you right where I've always wanted you, princess. You're too fat to move and too well-trained as a mindless, gluttonous cow to undo the damage you've done. I might not have made you gain all this weight, but I'm not about to see it melt away either. I love the way it feels too much, the way you jiggle with every movement, the way it pins you to the couch and only grows softer and heavier every time I feed you.

If I were you, piglet, I'd get used to this. Learn to enjoy it, because I certainly will... Maybe if you're a good girl for me, I'll find you some clothes that actually fit over your immense bulk. Though anything I find isn't going to fit you for very long - You're so big and obese, piggy, but you've still got a long way to go...

[ddejavvu]

hiii! i was wondering if i could request a hotch x bau! reader where they’re dating and they vouch to keep their work life and love life separate but they’re both terrible at hiding how protective they are over eachother

"I'll stay here." Reid decides, already knee-deep in maps and colored pens, as if anyone thought he'd jump up and volunteer to interview the victim's family.

"Right." Aaron nods, "JJ and Prentiss are already on their way to the last crime scene."

"That leaves us to canvass the unsub's safe zone." Rossi glances between you, Aaron, and Morgan, "Y/N, come with me-"

"No." Aaron interjects, stoicism returning just as quickly as it had been abandoned.

"O-kay," Morgan glances at Hotch with a furrowed brow, misinterpreting Hotch's protests, "Y/N, come with me. They can talk about old white man stuff in the car, or whatever they're gonna do."

"No." Aaron repeats, just as unhelpful as the first time he'd said it.

You're squirming on your feet, now. He's not being subtle, even if he is being confusing. Derek and Rossi may not know why Aaron wants to keep you with him, but now they know that he does, and you're sure it won't take them long to discern why he doesn't want you gallivanting across a potential crime scene with anyone other than him.

"Right... So you take Y/N, then." Rossi says what Hotch won't, "That's okay, Morgan and I can talk about whatever's up your butt today while we're driving."

If it were anyone but Rossi, they'd have ended up with desk duty for eight weeks. But both men manage to escape sharing a snicker at Hotch's expense, and you follow dutifully after your boss as he leads you out to one of the SUVs in the parking lot.

You're waiting for the closing of his door to begin scolding him for his reckless, but he decides to make the situation ten times worse by beating you to the car and holding your door open for you. You're sure Rossi and Morgan are watching from their own SUV, and you're glad the windows are up so that you don't have to hear their jeering.

"Hotch," You speak through tightly clenched teeth, but you get in without protest, and you huff as you slam the seatbelt into its latch, which Aaron waits for before he closes your door.

"You're not subtle." You speak the second that his door shuts, "Aaron, did you forget all of our coworkers are profilers? They're going to figure us out if you don't stop giving us away like that!"

"I don't care if they figure us out." Aaron admits, hands on the wheel though his attention stays on you as he pointedly stays parked, "I don't feel comfortable letting you enter a potentially dangerous situation with anyone but me."

"Morgan wouldn't let anything happen to me," You bargain, "And neither would Rossi. Hell, you think a criminal's gonna try fighting Derek to get to me? No one's crazy enough to go up against those muscles."

"But they would be looking to take down the unsub first, and thinking of you second. I'm thinking of you first."

A thick silence hangs in the air after his words; perhaps he's realizing what he's just said- it's weight, its implications.

You put it into words, "That's not professional, Hotch. That's- that's not how a profiler is supposed to act."

"Well then I guess I'm not a very good profiler anymore." He concedes, sighing as he turns to face the road and begins driving, now minutes behind Rossi and Morgan, "Just stay with me, and let me protect you."

[krems-chair]

I'm always interested in analyses that portray a romanced Solas as a predatory hee hee trickster god manipulating a young and impressionable Lavellan into falling for him and if that's your world state go ahead and live your truth b/c it's frankly none of my business, but I sincerely think there are those who forget that for a lot of people, a romanced Lavellan is (with all due respect to my own Solasmancing Inquisitor Rielle Lavelllan) batshit crazy. Having her boyfriend turn out to be a wolf god is honestly the least of her problems but oh boy is she unafraid to become one to fix this mess.

This is a woman who woke up in a dungeon with a glowing hand, figured out she could fix the world, and thought "fuck it, it's not like I'll have anything else better to do if Corypheus sticks around. Also. Everyone here kind of looks like they want to kill me, so maybe I'll stick with the protective powers that be for a minute." And then all of five seconds later she gets her hand snatched by a sketchy elven apostate who knows exactly what to do with her shiny new powers and cannot stop himself from having a Mr. Darcy level hand-flex after he lets it go (in my heart and soul this happens just out of the camera's gaze) and goes "hmm maybe there's something to be said for this world saving thing."

This is a woman who brought an entire fucking avalanche down on herself and three of her closest friends (and I do mean closest as in physical proximity, she doesn't know these people who are looking at her like she's Thedas' Next Top Idol) because even if it killed her it was the proper middle finger to send to the wannabe god bringing his army tap-dancing down the mountain pass towards her on the one night she had scheduled off to celebrate finally taking a W.

This is a woman going Take 2 Electric Boogaloo on waking up with no idea where she is and learning she was successful in spite-dragging herself up a different fucking mountain in a blizzard. Except now everyone is fighting wait nope now they're Kumbaya-ing a song Andraste's Herald should really probably be familiar with whoops, oh thank God, time for a side convo with the same apostate who's been trying to turn her entire life into a history class only for her to dive in headfirst (much to his initial abject horror) and get that good good discourse she needs since she can't go around arguing with everyone else like she wants to. "The orb is ours." You know what? Of course it is. But if they need the world saved from an elven oopsie, who better to right things than an elf? Fuck it, we ball.

This is a woman who misses being close to nature and goes positively feral at Skyhold, yeeting herself over balconies and banisters and turning the ancient fortress into her personal parkour playground because she's got energy to work off and shit to do, and if the path of least resistance to hunt down everyone she needs to talk to is coincidentally the same path that will absolutely wreck her knees by the time she's sixty, that's just how it has to be.

This is a woman who finds herself back at Haven with a man she's found it possible to be unfetteringly unabashedly herself with and thinks, "hey, maybe there could be more than the flirations we've exchanged over heated discussions and philosophical deep-dives, maybe I can have just one smooch as a treat." And when she feels her slowly unfurling passion reciprocated only to be shut down? She resolves herself to fight for this fledgling love and all the fade tongue that comes with it. This is a woman who gets the tiniest glimpse of what a retirement plan might look like after this whole saving the mortal world thing and buys all the way in.

This is a woman who has Grey Wardens to save from themselves, an empire trying to self-cannibalize, and still finds the time to go rescue a spirit because she, as a fellow comrade caught up in this mess, knows damn well that no innocent deserves to suffer if she can help it while she's got this insane amount of power she never asked for. And if that happens to lead to the man she feels safe enough to nap on the library couches with confessing at last the feelings she knows he's been smothering beneath his all-too-collected surface? Yeah, she'll take that W.

This is a woman who gets absolutely blasted head-over-ass into the fade and goes "honestly things were going a little TOO well." This is a woman who sneaks a peak at the closest fears of the companions she's come to know and love and goes "not on my fucking watch." This is a woman who sees that the man she forces herself to learn the old language for, her vhenan, fears being alone more than anything in the entire knowing world and resolves herself to ensuring it never comes to pass.

This is a woman who gets the opportunity to shape the government of a straight up country and runs around collecting wooden fucking halla in a palace full of elven servants with no time to dwell on that particularly cruel irony because out here it's scheme or be schemed. This a woman who collapses against a balcony railing after putting out some of the sickest literal and metaphorical dance moves The Game has ever seen, resigned to bear her ever-increasing burdens alone, only to find her heart and his horrible horrible hat extending a hand, promising her that if he is not alone, then neither is she.

Like, do you feel me here?

And then he dares to think something as sudden and damning as the truth is enough to keep her away? The queen of tough conversations and tougher choices? No, no, dear readers who have made it this far into my descent into madness.

Inquisitor Lavellan is a master-class in encouraging the odds against her to fuck around and find out. She is a rift-mending false-god-bashing politcally savvy terror upon all of Thedas. Solas (and all of the living breathing world) is lucky she took time out of her busy schedule to notice the way his smile softens when talking about spirits or appreciate the fluidity of his form when they're obliterating venatori out in the field. This man cradled her cheeks in his shaking hands, looked into weary and wide eyes and called her beautiful, and had the audacity to steal her heart before trying to peace out and take it with him.

If she's got to track down a real god this time and frog march him into the fade to reclaim both her heart and the future she fought for because all he wants to do is launch himself like a meteor towards achieving his greatest fear, if she has to spend hours lecturing him on the sheer audacity of his ass while spirits float by and realize they're grateful they never had the chance to take on a body and subject themselves to a verbal lashing this brutal, if she has to do cartwheels around him while dropping all sorts of sweet nothings in the language she is now quite proficient in until he gets it through his luminous gleaming skull that when she said "var lath vir suledin" my girl meant it? Then that's what she's going to do.

"I wish it could, vhenan."

Oh it's going to, buddy. Buckle up to get wrecked, to get absolutely loved and cherished you fool, because Inquisitor Lavellan is not the Dread Wolf's prey, she's his hunter.

[leashybebes]

8x15 coda redux

after that, there's this. this is rough as hell, gang, and i don't know if i'll ever polish it up. i mostly wrote this on my phone in between pulling up weeds in the garden.

Evan cries on him for several minutes. His whole body shakes with it, and the sound of it tattoos itself indelibly on Tommy's eardrums, overwriting every other horror that's ever jolted him awake from a nightmare before. And then something happens that Tommy's only ever seen happen before in warzones and in the mirror, when he's had a white-knuckled grip on a hand basin, and an even tighter grip on the remnants of who he is as a person.

Evan pushes away from him, sits up, scrubs his hands over his face. His shoulders straighten, his back stiffens, his jaw tightens. He clears his throat and a different person looks at him out of Evan's eyes, made dull by the low light and the things that have happened. They've never knowingly worked a sanctioned scene together before, but he thinks this is what Evan must look like when he takes charge in the field.

In a croaky but remarkably steady voice he says, "I need you to go."

"Evan - " Tommy tries to protest and Evan holds out a hand.

"I need you to go check on Ravi and the others. Ravi first. Then Karen. If I'm not out in ten minutes, I need you to call Eddie."

"I - "

"Tommy." Evan's voice is flat, worryingly steady for a man who was so thoroughly falling apart a couple of breaths ago. "I'm telling you what I need from you. Do it, please."

Tommy does as he's told. 

He finds Ravi and Karen together, isn't sure what he says past Evan sent me. He borrows Karen's phone, his own having been confiscated somewhere along the way, and he counts down the minutes carefully while he keeps one eye on Ravi.

Once ten minutes have elapsed with no sign of Evan or Athena, he scrolls through Karen's contacts until he finds Eddie's number. He doesn't bother to calculate the time difference to El Paso. This isn't a 'wait until a civilized hour' kind of call, and he hates that he's the one making it. Not for himself, but for Eddie, for Evan. He doesn't think he's what either of them need right now.

There isn't enough time for it to be awkward between Eddie answering a call from Karen's number and hearing Tommy's voice.

"Fuck," Eddie says. "Who?"

"Bobby," Tommy tells him.

"Shit. How - how bad?"

"Eddie…"

"You're - you're kidding."

It's a reflex, Tommy knows that. Eddie doesn't think that poorly of him, whatever else he might think.

"I'm really sorry."

Eddie's voice is tinny when it comes next, like Tommy's abruptly been put on speaker. "I'm finding a flight. Everyone else?"

"Physically, yeah. They'll be fine. I think Karen's going to start laying out FBI agents if we don't get to a hospital soon."

"FB - Man, what the fuck happened?"

Tommy gives him as much of an overview as he can, then stops abruptly. There's activity at the main doors.

"Eddie, I gotta go. I'll get Evan to call you from the hospital."

"Okay. I'll be there late evening."

"I'll let them know."

Tommy sees - jesus christ - the body bag, Athena swept away in a huddle of uniformed figures and then catches sight of Evan. He's ramrod straight, phone in his hand, pointing at the screen as he goes toe to toe with someone Tommy's willing to bet has the authority to ruin all their lives. Well. Relatively speaking.

"One button, Major," he hears Evan say as he gets close enough. "You can throw me in whatever black hole you want after, but unless my people are released into medical care right now, one button is all it takes to send all this to the best, meanest investigative journalist on this coast."

"Firefighter - "

"Look at me," Evan says, quiet. "Look at my face and tell me I'm bluffing."

Under any other circumstances, it would be wildly attractive.

The Major turns, already radioing orders, and Evan's left alone for a second. The rigidity in every bone of Evan's body doesn't ease even a little, and Tommy walks up to him with the strange sense that Evan's not there, not in the ways that matter. Not that he's insubstantial, but in that he's too solid to be really real.

"What do you need me to do?" Tommy asks.

Evan, hands on his hips, looking over Tommy's shoulder, eyes moving like he's doing a headcount, so solid he might as well be carved of marble, says, "Come to the hospital."

Tommy goes to the hospital. 

Time passes in the strange expanding and contracting way it does after a loss. Tommy fetches coffees, hands out a vending machine's worth of snacks, keeps himself on the periphery. Once it's confirmed that Hen and Chimney are pulling through okay, once Evan is occupied with Athena's kids, he slips away to the bathroom, locks himself in a cubicle and sobs for five minutes. He can't believe - he can't believe - 

When he gets back to the waiting room, Evan's gaze zeroes in on him immediately, but it's a minute before he crosses the room to Tommy and looks at him intently.

"Where'd you go?" he asks, and for a second, the hardness in his voice makes Tommy think he's mad. But it's not that. It's concern. Concern for Tommy, right now, of all times.

"Bathroom," Tommy manages. "What do you - "

What do you need, what can I do, please please please just tell me how to help you.

Evan reaches out and squeezes his shoulder.

"It's okay," he says. "I know he meant a lot to you too. You should sit down."

"Evan."

"Sit down," Evan says again. "Drink some water. Eat some terrible vending machine snacks. I need to go check on Athena."

Tommy does as he's told.

It takes a long time, but finally, Evan's ready to leave the hospital. Not before he's sent Ravi off with Maddie's house keys to get stuff for Jee Yun and take it to the Lees' place, not before he's had a long phone conversation with Hen's mom, not before he's organized rides for everyone else in their rag-tag group who wound up at the hospital, not before he's worn himself to the bone. But eventually.

"I'll drive you home," Tommy says.

Evan nods, eyes on his phone screen. "Eddie's going to take an Uber from the airport. I can't get hold of Bobby's brother, but I'll keep trying while you drive."

"Okay," Tommy agrees. He doesn't know this guy. He doesn't know this version of Evan - he knew there was steel at the core of him, but he doesn't know this version where everything else has been stripped away.

When they get to Evan's house, he still hasn't managed to get Bobby's brother on the phone, but he's left a calm, even-toned message asking him to call. 

The house is almost unrecognizable from the last time Tommy was here - fully unpacked, fully Evan's in a way that feels startlingly strange. Evan unlocks the door and heads straight for the linen closet, starts putting covers on spare duvets and pillows. Tommy trails after him, helps him make up the bed in the spare room, feeling like he's on the other end of a string tied to the pin in a hand grenade.

"Evan," he says, when the room is done.

"I need to - " Evan starts.

"I think you need to sit down," Tommy interjects.

"No," Evan says, not mad or even loud, but unquestionable. "No, I don't need that."

Tommy feels like he's being turned inside out, like all the things Evan must be feeling are being transferred over to him for want of anywhere else to go.

"Evan," he says again, like it's the only word he knows.

"No. B-Bobby said they would need me. And they do. So I don't need to sit down. I need to - I need - "

"Did he say anything else?" Tommy asks.

It's a risk, but not a huge one, he thinks. In the unlikely event it's a no, Tommy gets an unexpected addition to the list of authority figures he wants to fistfight in an afterlife he doesn't think exists. 

Evan blinks at him for a moment, then looks away. 

"I'm going to do some batch cooking for Athena and the kids. You can help, or you can go to the store, or you can just go."

"Evan - "

"What, Tommy?" The snap in Evan's voice sounds like it hurts. "What do you want me to say? This isn't about me."

And that's just - that's just the wrongest thing Tommy's ever heard.

"Of course it's about you."

"No - " Evan says, pulling out his phone again and scrolling like a message from Bobby's brother will have appeared, despite the fact that he's cranked the ringtone up, and the house is a silent as - well.

"It's about you too. Evan, just stop. What else did Bobby say?"

He's prepared for that's none of your business, he's prepared to be shoved aside, he's prepared even for Evan to throw a punch, although that seems vanishingly unlikely. Whatever else Evan is right now, whatever emotions are running the show, he's Evan.

He's not prepared for the way Evan's face crumples, for the way the phone drops from fingers that seem to have gone nerveless. They were already close enough that when Evan pitches forward, it's directly into Tommy's waiting arms.

"He said - he said - he said he loved me," Evan says, and, well. Tommy feels like that probably went without saying for a lot of years, and he can't imagine how it must have felt to have it said right there, like that. Evan's not crying, but he is shaking, like everything is catching up to him all at once.

"He did," Tommy says. "Of course he did."

"No - Tommy - he said I'd be okay. But I'm not - I'm not - I'm not okay."

"Of course you're not."

"But they need me."

Tommy takes a breath, feels like he's inhaling broken glass. "They're not here. You can be not okay with me."

Evan shakes his head against Tommy's shoulder, tries to pull away. Tommy doesn't let him.

"E-Eddie'll be here soon."

"Yeah," Tommy says. "So let's be not okay until then."

Evan takes a shuddering breath in. Lets out a single sob that shakes his whole body. Weeps.