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#he's just yelling and losing it at every turn
eggyrocks · 3 days
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ENCOUNTERS
00 prologue: dumped
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All Suna wants is a relaxing, post-show cigarette in the parking lot. But that girl’s fighting with her boyfriend again.
For as long as they’ve been a band, she’s been coming to their shows . And as long as she’s been coming to their shows, she’s been fighting with her boyfriend at them. The same boyfriend every time too, the gangly looking one with the constantly messed-up hair.
He flicks the end of his lighter, watching as she takes several steps back from him, laughing in indignation, throwing up her arms up in exasperation. The boyfriend’s just standing there, outside the driver’s seat of his idling car.
They always fight about stupid shit. The boyfriend’s controlling. She likes to do whatever she wants. He yells at her about lying about where she was going for the night. She yells back about him going through her phone. Honestly, Suna’s not even sure why the two of them are still together. It seems like they really, really fucking hate each other.
He can hear a bit of what she’s screaming now, something about not trusting her or respecting her individuality and him shooting back that she’s done nothing to earn his trust, and she has no personality outside of liking this stupid fucking band.
Suna inhales and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not sure why he’s getting dragged into it.
Honestly, he figures he should probably count his losses with the cigarette and go back inside, let them have it out like they normally do alone, in the privacy of this empty venue parking lot. But his morbid curiosity gets the better of him, and he stays, watching aptly as they tear each other’s throats out.
And, oddly, he kinda feels compelled to stick around, to make sure she ends up okay. He doesn’t know anything about her really, and he hardly remembers her name half the time, but her unrelenting dedication to his band has kind of earned some loyalty in return.
Enough for him to stick outside and keep an eye on her while her boyfriend loses his mind.
Suna watches as he turns away from her, and flings open the backseat of his car. He watches as she yells out, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” and he watches as the boyfriend pulls out three, large, overflowing duffle bags and deposits them at her feet, despite her protests.
And then, he gets in his car and drives away.
His loyalty is being tested.
All Suna can think about as he approaches her is how badly he does not want to. But she’s collapsed now, sitting on top of her pile of duffle bags and sobbing, right there in the middle of the parking lot. Plus, if Kiyoko found out he left a crying girl alone in the parking lot, she’d probably skin him. So he drops his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with the heel of his shoe. “Hey,” he greets, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
She looks up, wet eyes wide and covered in smudged, black makeup. She inhales sharply. It could pass for a hiccup. “Oh, hey. Good show tonight,” she sniffles.
“Yeah, thank” Suna nods, looking at the ground beside her instead of directly at her. He feels strange standing above her like he is, so he kneels, weight on the balls of his feet. “Are, erm, are you okay?”
She blinks, and hiccups again. At least her crying’s slowed. “Um, no, not really. I just got dumped, and also, like evicted, I’m pretty sure.”
Suna looks at the bags underneath her. “This all your stuff?”
“Most of it, I think.”
“Okay,” Suna starts, trying to come up with anything useful or productive, “so, can you like, call a friend to stay at their place for now or something? I don’t think I wanna leave with you just like, here.”
Her eyes start to water again, and Suna immediately feels like he’s done something wrong. “No, not really. I mean, my old roommates got new places out of the city and I don’t know who they live with or even where and my other friends all live together in a two bedroom but there’s three of them and I couldn’t even stay in there if I tried because there’s no room, and I don’t like my mom and I guess I could ask this one friend but I know she won’t answer and I don’t know where I’m going to stay and I’m kind of-“
“Okay,” Suna cuts her off, dread already forming in his stomach. Because he cannot, in good conscience, leave a crying girl in the middle of a parking lot. He cannot let her just figure it out on her own. So he knows what’s coming next. He sighs and stands upright. Fuck, he better get some good karma for this. “Do you wanna stay at my place for the night?”
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taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @bakery-anon @cheriisae @chososcamgirl @honeyfewr @soulfullystarry @snail-squasher @angee444 @itsdragonius @lees-chaotic-brain @miiyas @atsumuenthusiast @iluv-ace @cupidsblonde @tetsuswhore @soobin1437 @starkyu @bakugouswh0r3 @wakashudou @softpia @phoenix-eclipses @angelichwv @rory-cakes @bbybibi @lllaw @kameyyy @sleepzyy @s1ckntw1st3d @savemebrazilhinata @whorefornoodles @keeboismine @angsty-microwave @cyberpsychedelic @v3nusplanetofluv @darkandstarrynight @lunasfics @miss-manupilative @t8tiana @bzzahbee @evening-latte @Rebirthbunny @rvm1ne
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noobsoconfusing · 12 hours
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‘pothead? more like pot no head!’ hamzahthefantastic
summary: hamzah and you get high together very often, however this time is different, as you both take too much and end up greening out in different ways.
warnings: awkwardness, inexperienced hamzah and reader, cum, cringe.
>_<
“holy shit! holy f-fuck!” hamzah rubbed his heavy eyes, staring half lidded at your limp body passed out on his lap.
damn, he felt so overstimulated. his senses failing on him, per usual.
the smoke surrounding the living room –and yourselves– felt thick, almost like he could munch on it if he wanted to, and each time he breathed in he felt even more zooted.
and ow, fuck! you looked so beautiful. the light freckles, almost invisible, surrounding specific areas of your face, and then some imperfections that hamzah considered perfect on you –the same he considered ugly on him– you had dark circles under your eyes, and messy hair that covered your face almost entirely, but still he was able to peek at your flushed cheeks.
‘no! hamzah, stop! she could be fucking dead!’ –he thought to himself, regaining an ounce of consciousness through the warm haze that filled his brain and body.
“hey…” he shook your body, trying to keep his eyes off of your torso, though it was almost impossible for him. hamzah’s eyes drifted down, sheepishly admiring how the oversized shirt you were wearing –that yeah, in fact was his– rode up..
but as he kept shaking your body with his bigger hands, he realised you were far gone. that, of course, scared him shitless.
“oh my god..!” hamzah considered calling martin, but it was roughly 4 am, he wouldn’t be awake.
hamzah felt like he was losing the ability to breathe properly. his heart was beating so fast and blood going to every single direction inside of his body.
literally every single direction. fuck. oh no.
“y/n, are you… are you awake?” hamzah saw double lines, so fucking high. “oh god she’s dead, she’s fucking dead…” he felt like crying he was so fucking panicked.
and the scene was quite funny, tense even. how was he going to tell the police that you guys got super high that you probably had a heart attack? even worse! how was he going to explain the stupid fucking hard-on he had been resisting to beat since the fucking weed settled on him?
crying with a stupid hard-on was pathetic. crying stoned out of his damn head, with his possibly dead roomie laying next to him was dumb.
everything was dumb! nothing made sense to him at that moment, ugh, so confusing!
crying next to the girl he yearned for, the girl he liked since he first saw in that roommate application was beyond pathetic. and you were both high.
“oh god, please!” he yelled so fucking loud, which made you scramble out of your slumber. “i know you hate me! doesn’t matter cause you’re uh, like, you’re dead, but oh god! i like you.. so much and.. man i just…wanted to smoke with you… maybe make out… maybe even dip it! but y/n please don’t, uh, don’t kill me in my sleep too! oh my fucking god!” he rambled as he slurred his words from how high he was.
hamzah had this problem. one of many. where he would overthink and panick and talk his brain off as if his body had no power over him, only his thoughts. that maximised when he was zooted.
due to his extreme yapping, you found yourself awake on the couch, but you couldn’t move or speak. your limbs felt floaty and numb and your body felt so lightweight that you wondered if you were human still.
but hamzah’s greened out voice was getting on your stoned nerves
“mmm…” you slowly opened your eyes, red as fuck. “hamzah, a-are you tweaking?” your voice groggy after smoking only turned him on even more, and he felt so bad for thinking lewd stuff about you.
his eyes blew up wide, like two round red leds. he threw himself into your smaller frame, engulfing you in a big hug. he groaned out of satisfaction.
groaned again when he felt your body so close to his. so warm. so soft.
“holy fuck! you’re not dead! oh shit, y/n i fucking love you, i love you i love you, god i was scared shitless..” as high as he was, he meant it, he had been wanting to admit that for such a long time but sober he didn’t have the balls to.
you gave into the embrace and snuggled closer to his warmth. his words vague, though you cherished them and how sincere he sounded, it was almost impossible to concentrate in that state of mind. all you could do was enjoy the proximity.
so comfortable, so nice, and..
“im sorry im hard..!” hamzah pulled away from the hug to look down at his almost unbearable boner. his eyes wide and glossy like marbles looked at you like a kicked dog asking for help.
you see, in his right mind he wouldn’t even mention it, he wouldn’t even look at its direction. but he was definitely not in his right mind, right?
he surely knew how to silence a room.
“huh?” you stared at him confused and rubbing your right eye, pouting. looking like a fucking goddess. so cute. so beautiful it made hamzah wanna just explode.
here comes the world vomit. high trait of his.
“im sorry i have a boner. like, okay, it’s so painfully hard that i feel sorry because weed, well, weed makes me super fucking horny and on top of that you’re here and i think you’re so pretty and i love you so oddly much… im sorry i got a boner,” he swallowed the knot inside his throat. “i am sorry, so sorry. i love you though? is that weird? do you think it’s weird?..”
seconds that felt like hours passed and you would just switch stares between hamzah’s reddened face and the notorious bulge inside his grey sweats.
he felt like dying. and you were just sitting there, looking fuckable and so pretty, and he was just melting there waiting for a reaction from you, trying not to burst like a teen.
hamzah almost felt as if the high was gone from how nervous he got, but feeling sober was way worse.
you got closer, but it was like you were being pushed by an invisible force. like a magnet attracting you to hamzah’s shivering body.
your hands trembled badly.
no, you did not know what possessed you to crawl over him and caress his face, he was sweating cold, and his eyes far gone intoxicated.
“w-what are you…?” you laughed at how he pronounced the sentence, your giggles almost like a whisper.
tension so dense it could be cut with a knife
the eye contact was stupidly intense, both of your gazes drowsy and tired, eyes heavy and itchy from the smoke around you.
when your hand moved south, hamzah’s eyebrows knitted together and his mouth fell open wide, choking a whine. it was extremely weird how a little touch could make him feel so excited, and got him even harder, if it was even possible…
“dude, you’re bricked…” you said, feeling him up through the grey sweats.
he subconsciously thrusted his hips upwards to your hand, which you quickly moved away, earning a pathetic moan from him.
“nooo, owww!” he pouted, eyes teary.
it was funny.
“no! hey!..” he pleaded, grabbing your hand and trying to place it over his boner again, but you giggled at his impatience and swatted his bigger palm away. “y/n! p-please, h-hey, you can’t just..” he shrieked desperately. “please?”
hamzah was willing to jerk off right then and there, not minding your presence. even better for him, he would cum to your image, to your feel, to your sight.
that would totally cross the roommate line, wouldn’t it?
neither of you were experienced though, and as fucked up as you were, you also didn’t wanna ruin it, ruin whatever was going on between you two.
you got too nervous. nervous at the sight of him so fucked out over nothing. you never had a guy like that, never so desperate for you. or a guy at all. hamzah made you feel so stupid, so weird inside. so warm.
oh, so nervous…
“uh, do you want another hit?” suddenly, you got up looking for the rest of the blunt. too lightheaded to function. too nervous to continue. a good excuse.
hamzah stared at you in disbelief. then down at his pants. then at you again. he smiled, but it was such a hot smile. he looked so good, so fucked up.
“we are pretty cooked though, don’t you think?”
you shrugged. “whats the worst that could happen?”
so you grabbed the special blunt on the night table, and the lighter too. slid it into your mouth and lighted the pre rolled, you inhaled and swallowed the smoke in, turning over to hamzah and then blowing out the smoke on his face.
he stared at you with his mouth wide open, trying to take some of you in. so drunk on you.
and so, the worst thing that could happen, happened.
hamzah felt like he lost balance, his eyes rolled back into his skull and tried to reach for your hand to hold while a gutural moan erupted from the back of his throat, just as he emptied himself in his sweats..
came untouched. just at the sight of you blowing smoke out on his face.
“f-fuck, im so so so sorry, i didn’t… i- i just, i don’t know… you’re so pretty and…” he started rambling yet again and you felt so silly.
your gaze softened on him, and hamzah felt less embarrassed when he realised you weren’t angry or grossed out. your soft eyes felt gentle and he knew you weren’t judging him.
“it’s fine… i guess.” you avoided staring at the wet puddle forming inside his pants, and he giggled nervously too.
time passed by, maybe not really. you felt as time flew by too slowly, and found yourself lost in hamzah’s big eyes again. both of you staring at each other while sitting on the couch, the blunt consuming itself far forgotten but still creating smoke.
hamzah cleared his throat. “i feel sticky.”
“i bet you do.” you replied.
“have you ever…” he started but you quickly interrupted him.
“no head, hamzah!”
>_<
yay first small fanfic here ^_^ unbelievably cringe though, might have to kms.
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prodbymaui · 3 days
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Labyrinthine
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why are you in despair? this is the future you ruined yourself
The sirens blared behind you and Jeno as you both sprinted through the dark alley, hearts racing with the urgency of desperate flight. The city lights blurred past, a chaotic mix of neon and shadow, each pulse of color a reminder of the choices that had led you here. Jeno had just stolen a car, a decision made out of sheer survival, but now you were running from the inevitable consequences of your endless illegal actions.
“Left! Go left!” You shouted, veering into a narrow passageway, Jeno right on your heels.
You both knew you were doomed; every reckless act—carjacking, petty thefts, and the drugs that dulled your reality—had brought you to this moment. But there was no time to dwell on that now; you just had to keep moving.
“Closer! They’re right behind us!” Jeno yelled, glancing back with panic etched on his face. The sound of your ragged breaths mingled with the wailing sirens, an ominous soundtrack to your escape. Beneath the fear, there was an unspoken bond, a flicker of something deeper that you both felt but refused to acknowledge.
You ducked behind a dumpster as the patrol cars roared past, the flashing lights casting harsh shadows across the alley.
“This way!” Jeno urged, pulling you forward as you dashed out of your hiding spot, adrenaline propelling them onward. As your shoulders brushed, you felt a rush of warmth—something you had never admitted, a connection forged in chaos.
With every turn, the ground felt unsteady beneath your feet, the reality of your choices crashing down.
“We can’t keep this up!” You gasped, desperation lacing your voice.
You're trapped in a cycle of your own making, where every decision had been a gamble, every act of defiance pulling them deeper into chaos. And still, the thought of losing Jeno tightened your chest; you couldn’t imagine facing this without him.
“Just keep going!” Jeno replied, his voice strained but insistent. “We can’t let them catch us now! Not after everything we’ve done!” His gaze lingered on your for a heartbeat too long, a silent acknowledgment of what lay beneath your frantic race—feelings he couldn’t afford to confront amidst the chaos.
Your legs burned, but they pushed forward, zigzagging through the maze of alleyways that had become your lifeline and prison. You had resorted to stealing, hustling, and taking risks just to survive, but now you're running toward an end you could almost taste.
As you raced through the streets, the sirens grew louder, a relentless reminder of your fate.
“What do we do now?” You panted, mind racing, glancing back at the approaching footsteps.
“Just keep running!” Jeno urged, determination fighting against the weight of despair. “We can’t stop! We’ve made it this far!” Yet as you sprinted, he couldn’t shake the thought that every step you took was one step closer to losing this forever.
You dashed into another alley, the reality of your endless crimes pressing in on you like a vice. Each illegal act you had committed in the name of survival had led to this moment of reckoning, yet here you were—still running, still refusing to give in.
With every step, the shadows of your past loomed larger, and as the sound of footsteps grew closer, you pushed forward—together, bound by your choices, driven by a desperate hope that somehow, against all odds, you could escape the fate you had forged for yourselves. And as you ran, the unspoken feelings hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting the two of you amidst the chaos, one that neither dared to acknowledge in the heat of the moment.
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handern · 1 year
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Yellow being somehow more bratty but having less nerves than John is so very funny to me
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ganondoodle · 1 year
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i have grown kinda tired of all the studio ghibli and totk comparisons bc i love most of miyazakis movies and its so annoyingly obvious that if totk actually took inspiration from them its all just the surface level aesthetic and none of the good story telling
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hi guys, may i introduce you to the concept of ailette/hestio
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If hesphael is ephael giving in to hestio with some jibes that have little to no heat behind them, then ailette/hestio is ailette returning hestio's energy even more and hestio not being able to take it. Ephael teases hestio with a ☺️ or 😄 face while ailette is like >:)) and she does not pull punches. she would embarrass him happily and watch him combust. They compete on a bunch of inconsequential things and hestio loses 80% of the time because ailette is just too cool like that.
#hestio ligenel#mimin voice i think everyone in this series should kiss hestio actually#i made that one post recently from twt abt how you end up making everyone in the franchise in love w ur fave#and i was like. me w tesilid#wrong actually its me w hestio. everyone should plant a big fat kiss on hestio's cheek it would delight me greatly#me yelling into the void in irinbi's vague direction:#hello could you please give hestio a love interest???? please???? for me???#like please PLEASE hestio has so much potential HE COULD BE SO FUNNY....#i am NOT immune to his irresistible tsundere charms#the fun thing abt shipping hestio w like literally every character is that he's slightly different w each of them but hes still very funny#i just want to see him imploding on himself a little. okay#like this scene is so funny to me. hes so cute#and he says the gnarliest things sometimes too like when he called ailette a cabbage bc her layers have layers#why are you calling a girl a cabbage.... he has no tact i want to pinch his cheek#i need someone to bully him a little#teshes flavour of teasing hestio would be done w a straight face and tesilid would let hestio off the hook very easily#hesphael flavour is ephael making good natured jabs abt things he knows hestio wont rly get super riled up abt#and then ailette just goes straight for his throat#actually while we're here lets think abt other hestio ships too. clears throat. please consider prinzhestio#it would be very cute bc prinz is very considerate and accomodating#he has the same vibes as pre regression tesilid except he doesnt give hestio blood pressure issues bc he can take care of himself#prinz isnt a doormat. he would probably be like. a hestio restrainer. stops hestio from losing his head at things and calms him down#hestio almost loses his temper and he takes a deep breath turns to prinz stares at him for a couple of seconds and then#turns back completely calm and serene again#AND ALSO prinz is a knight he can protect hestio#like listen its just in prinz's blood to be knightly and protect ppl arnd him okay that fits well w hestio's need to be protected#literally its so funny how hestio is like super vulnerable but hasnt awakened his aura. he just relies on ephael#what a princess. i love him.#(ephael voice) yeah okay ill protect you or youll prob die...#(tesilid voice) my obligations.... (prinz voice) OH NO ARE YOU OKAG
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magnusmodig · 6 months
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rough childhood headcanon qs / anonymous / accepting !
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╰┈➤ 6 . what was the worst / most traumatic moment in their childhood?
||. Oh, I am sure that there are multiple that Thor can recount (if he ever bothered to) and the list could fill up a very long and detailed tome. But were I to try and summarize most of them, I would end up with one word: Gungnir.
Disagreed with something your father said? Gungnir. Went against the grain because you felt it better to do things your own way? Gungnir. Have the gall to talk back (regardless of whether your point was valid or just genuine childish disrespect)? Gungnir. Make a mistake? Bound to get scolded? You've spoken out of turn? Gungnir. Dare to defy Odin and you will hear the sound of urdu thudding against the ground, because very likely you aren't talking to your father at all. You're talking to the All-Father, and he is not a very patient manner of beast.
And I would imagine that Thor, being the temperamental, strong-willed, passionate individual that he is (not to mention a perfectly bright and excitable creature as a child, the lovely lamb) wouldn't have known the difference at first. How would he have? His father was his hero. He answered a great many questions and told the history of his father and fore-father. He took Thor's hand in his and squeezed it tight, and showed him the great treasures of Asgard and the spoils of its righteous conquests as heroes of the Great Wars. ...So how was Thor to know the difference between the father who held his hands and spoke with a fond twinkle in his eye, and the All-Father who spoke with authority heavy in his tone and the slam of urdu on the ground? So Thor would speak up as any child might, interrupting and asking questions and never exactly listening, because Thor has his own thoughts and opinions and he would very much like to share them all. And father would listen, but the All-Father does not. And Thor would argue and debate and counter when he feels something unjust, unfair or otherwise downright vexing for a little one who knows no better about the world than that which consists of himself and his brother and his parents, and maybe sometimes he was eloquent enough to earn an impressed hum or a begrudging acquiescence — if he was debating with his father, at any rate.
Thor was oh-so very often not speaking to his father at all.
And it was very much his own mistake for not catching on to the difference.
But at some point, Thor learned better. Fight back, but maybe not so blatantly out of line. Defend your point and speak your mind, but beware of the All-Father's command. Do what's right, but in the shadow of rebellion ; keep your head down, and your eyes lower, as you slip around the politics of the rulings – for rules are made to be broken , after all. Most of all: when Gungnir sounds, bite your tongue and hold your breath.
You will speak when spoken to or you will not speak at all.
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bo0zey · 2 years
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manic mixed depressive episode on my bday is so fun especially when ur going on 2 days no sleep n have a 12hr shift starting at the asscrack of dawn in 6hrs
#idk if i want to sleep like i do but i don’t i just keep walking in circles n staring off blankly#also bursted into tears for no reason bc i missed my mom and remembered how much i hate my fucking birthday#was in the middle of a borderline argument w my family then just zoned out n glanced at the time and tears welled#6:13???#then i pretended to go to the bathroom to hide my tears from my dad cuz he would’ve yelled at me if i went to my room w/o saying anything#so there i am crying like a pathetic loser on the toilet trying to suppress n swallow down ugly sobs#and there i am crying in my dumpster fire of a room on the floor#i literally go the entire year without crying abt her but every time december hits i always get into this weird funk#and idk why it’s still happening it’s been 7 years#i think my subconscious mind is influencing my body to release the trauma stored inside it bc i was never allowed to grieve her properly#so now in blips of time leading up to my birthday and the next day of her passing i’m 15 turning 16 again#i wish i didn’t have to work tomorrow so i could go visit her at her grave instead like i never go to the cemetery but i really want to#i guess i can go on her actual death day but i don’t want to go with my dad and brothers i just want to be alone#they don’t understand the feeling of losing your mom and best friend on your 16th bday#they don’t understand what it’s like carrying all this guilt and trauma and holding her hand and feeling her hand go limp at my words#i told her it was okay she could let go i would take care of my brothers and protect them from my father and i would be strong for everyone#meanwhile i’m listening to my dad n my aunt throwing all her clothes in trash bags upstairs#i didn’t even get to pick out what clothes i wanted to keep of hers im so angry my dad refused to let any of us miss her#“i miss mom-‘ ‘she’s dead get over it!’#i got over it alright but then this time of year rolls around and i’m under it all again#i miss her so much i wonder if she’d be proud of me i wonder what it would be like to feel her hand in mine again#ooos im crying again lol#im so pathetic i’m literally 23 in less than 30 minutes why am i behaving like a crybaby child#23:33 when i was typing that btw n 333 is my angel/life path number lol#i wanna saw my arm off but i won’t#i debated staring an iv on myself instead but i’m too drained i just want lay down n cry lol#pathetic loser crybaby girl can’t function can’t shut up making everyone uncomfortable with her sadnes n tears stupid stupid stupid#drown in them and die nobody here loves you anymore nobody cares you’re the problem always the problem#i can’t remember if my mom loved me or not everyone says she did but i forgot what it feels like#i wish i never told her it was okay to let go i lied to her i said i’d be okay but here i am manic depressive
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dirt-str1der · 1 year
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Literally cant care about anything other than majima haruka bonding
#Yakuza loveblog#ohhh together ... this is less of a kiryu sickfic and more like harukas little city adventure#kiryu got sick because he was just not taking care of himself and keeled over like a victorian lady and haruka was like okay . im#cooking dinner tonight ojisan if i catch you out of bed i will be very angry with you !!!#sorry for using ojisan and uncle kaz interchangably theyre both just so fucking cute ... uncle kaz lets fuck hookers#haruka where is the methy . in my nose ojisan. uncle kaz get it twisted gamble you will win you understand you will break even#you wont lose. you wont go into debt. you will win. millions. get it twisted gamble and thats it.#majima ends up having to drive her home because he doesnt want her out on her own anymore .. which is funny because haruka yelled at him#because he joked about coming over to visit kiryu while hes sick and she was like NO !!! and he was like sheesh okay okay ...#and then shes like oh turn left here yeah this is where we're staying .. . you can come in if you want :) (she trusts him now)#i think harukas jacket also got ripped up and covered in blood so majima bought her that stylish puffer jacket she has in yk2#little girls WILL wear black singlets by the way just trust me on this kiryu also wore one when he was younger 'source?' just trust me#its like a staple of the wardrobe you need a black singlet and a jacket to wear over it plus its super cute and sensible#i like to make people straight up stab and hurt other people in front of haruka she doesnt care shes already desensitised#because she follows kiryu around every day and hes always caving skulls and making people spit out bloody teeth so seeing majima splatter#blood everywhere was nothing to her shes always getting splashed with blood every single day she doesnt mind#shes very brave to keep wearing white after that but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do#hmm wonder if i should have a proper writing tag so i can consolidate all this shit ...#well it would mostly be for keeping track of what ive already posted because i can never remember and i keep writing the same thing#over and over again ... i only have one brain you see ..#majima comes into kiryus house immediately makes a beeline for his bedroom and sees him all sweaty and feverish in bed too weak to move#and she starts panting like a dog and kiryu looks at her with fear in his eyes#guy whos about to get his shit rocked like crazy and knows it#sorry haruka look away !!! <- thats the header i have for this fic look away from the rest of the document !!!!
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yiangchen · 1 year
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magicmagica · 1 year
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Some serial killer level bullshit omfg
#cis white man is back fucking at it at work again#he's now completely 180d his behavior#immediately changing his behavior and voice when I walk by#putting on this meek and mild front like???#i fuking. DESPISE. when peolle think they can get their way by just. acting a different way#just be fucking you I don't want a version of you coddled to me that you toss aside when you feel comfortable to break down my boundaries#he tried to hug me again. WITHOUT ASKING this time becasue every other time I said now#which he fucking ignored and hugged me anyways#THIS time I grabbed my arm and elbowed the shit out of him and didn't even look as I walked away and said do NOT touch me#one of my other coworkers saw too so bonus witness#now anytime Inwalk around his face turns into a scowl and if I talk to any other guy at work he gets all pissy and slams shit around like#what the fuck kind of toddler behavior is thism#he tried to get me to road trip with him to a city 5 hours away to look at. a car and drive back like#10 hours alone in HIS car with him 5 HOURS away from home#bitch NO what the fuuuuck#I'm getting ready to lose my shit on him and walk out of work 100%#my boss already made it clear they won't do anything about it and I have to ake care of it#~just talk to him~#yeah talk to him and become a fucking headline#he's a gun nut with 4 unregistered a truck and a tendency to switch to violence and yelling real fucking quick#this is why no one reports because it's better than going missing
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lilislegacy · 7 months
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look. either you agree with me or you don’t - either way it doesn’t matter - but i truly think that at some point - after time, a lot of heavy conversations, some yelling, and crying, and a whole lot of honesty and apologies from her parents - annabeth and her family would work things out and become semi-close. which means eventually percy would be on good terms with them too.
that said, you cannot convince me otherwise that at some point, probably soon after moving to new rome, percy gets into a screaming match with mr. and mrs. chase about how they treated annabeth. and he absolutely blows out the pipes of every house within a mile radius.
not because annabeth needs him to fight her battles. not because percy thinks he has to fight annabeth’s battles. but because he can’t even begin to grasp how someone could treat a child - their own child - like they treated annabeth. the man who was raised by sally jackson cannot even begin to fathom how they blamed their child for the danger that followed her, and then gaslit her when she went to them for help. he can’t even begin to understand how they put her brothers before her, because now that he has his own little sister, his mom has never been more clear about how much she loves him.
he’s gonna lose his shit.
(“what kind of father doesn’t do everything in his power to protect this child?” “it doesn’t matter that you didn’t sign up for it. it’s your fucking job.” “what kind of monster encourages her husband to turn his back on his 5 year old daughter?” “yeah you didn’t choose to have a child, but she didn’t choose to be born!” “what? did you hear that demigods don’t have long lifespans and were just waiting for her funeral so you could get on with your lives?” “what kind of parents make it clear to their daughter that their new babies are the priority? that she’s a danger to them? that they are more important?” “would you fall into hell to save her?… if your immediate answer isn’t yes, then making you a father was the dumbest thing athena ever did.” “she was a scared little kid. you were supposed to protect her.”)
the minute they try to defend themselves, the chases are getting soaked. and part of that is from peeing their pants with fear becasue we all know how terrifying percy is when he’s angry. and nothing makes him angrier than someone who’s hurt the girl, the woman, who is his entire world.
you cannot convince me otherwise. don’t even try.
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osaemu · 10 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE INTERNET! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when you flirt with one of his many rivals?
contents: fem!reader. playful jealousy, it's nothin' serious. toji flirts with you <3 chat continues to make fun of satoru + fortnite slander. pretty short but uh... anyways.
author's note: live laugh love streamer!gojo
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"c'mon, satoru," suguru drawls, smiling at your boyfriend through the screen. "how'd you get eliminated so fast? you must've set a world record," he teases, poking fun at the way satoru completely bombed the last round.
you snicker from your spot on satoru's bed, and he turns and sticks his tongue out at you. satoru had convinced you to come over just a couple minutes ago, and any hope you had of doing your homework in peace flew out the window the moment he went live. 
"shut up," satoru huffs, turning back to his monitor and scrunching up his nose at suguru. the two are close enough for them to banter and insult each other without any fear of resentment. suguru laughs in response, velvety voice resulting in a burst of heart emojis from the comments.
"well, i gotta go," suguru sighs, leaning back in his dark, plush chair. he smiles and waves with a reminder of when his next stream will be before signing off. 
satoru spins around in his chair a couple times and scrunches up his face at the screen. "why are you guys still here?" he asks, ruffling his hair and raising an eyebrow. "y'wanna see my girlfriend again or something?"
the chat explodes with a flurry of yes's, so satoru swivels his chair around and looks straight at you. he looks at you expectantly, opening his arms and beckoning you. "c'mere, sweetheart," he says, voice singsongy and light.
"you're so annoying," you mumble, rolling over and hopping off his bed.
"and i'm all yours," satoru replies immediately, shooting you a cheeky smile. 
whenever you call him annoying or stupid or a clueless idiot, satoru responds the same way every time. and both of you know that you certainly can't do much better than your sweetheart of a boyfriend, even if he is the brattiest boy you know.
you run your fingers through your hair and walk over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder and waving at his camera. "hey guys," you say with a smile. satoru turns to his head to kiss your cheek affectionately, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.
as you lean into satoru's embrace, you scan the comments. most of them are either hi's and hello's, but a select few make you laugh.
yuuji-itadori: they make me feel so single :( 
inumaki: brb im about to violently throw up
toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better tbh
satoru scoffs at the last two comments, jutting his chin out and glaring at the screen. "why are you two still here?" he huffs, pointing at the camera and narrowing his eyes. the hand on your waist tightens as satoru pulls you into his lap. "inumaki, don't you have a fortnite round to lose? and you, toji, i'm this close to blocking you from my streams!" he grumbles. 
the chat explodes with various expressions of laughter, and you can't help but giggle at the responses satoru's jibes get.
inumaki: kys
inumaki: whats wrong with playing fortnite??? most fire game ever fym
toji-fushiguro: im not here for u loser
satoru mimicks inumaki with a high-pitched voice and goes on a minute-long tangent of why fortnite is the one of the shittiest games ever, and eventually inuaki chooses to retreat with a last snarky comment before he disappears. then, your riled-up boyfriend turns on toji.
"if you're not here for me, who could you possibly be here for?" satoru snorts, resting his chin on the top of your head. his hands intertwine as he wraps his arms around you snugly, securing you on his lap.
the next message from toji catches you and satoru off-guard, but your reactions are entirely different. you laugh and smile bashfully, while satoru nearly knocks you off of him when he yells "what?!"
toji-fushiguro: i'm here for your pretty gf duh
before satoru can fire a thousand insults toji's way, you reach up and clasp your hand over his mouth. your boyfriend's eyes widen in the reflection of his monitor, and you have to suppress the urge to ruffle his hair and kiss him stupid. sure, you'll probably make out with him after the stream, but you think that it'd be even more fun to mess with him first.
"aw, you think i'm pretty?" you ask playfully, directing your words at toji. "i've seen you around," you muse, twirling a strand of hair around your finger with the hand not covering satoru's mouth. you smile coyly at the screen before continuing, "you're not so bad yourself, honestly."
satoru whines incredulously against your hand, and you can't suppress the laugh that slips past your lips. he bounces his foot on the floor impatiently, and eventually he reaches around you and quickly presses a couple buttons to end the stream. "baby, i love you but sometimes you drive me crazy," he grumbles, hoisting you over his shoulder as he stands up. 
"let me go!"
"okay!" he replies, dropping you on his bed with a cheeky smile. satoru's eyes narrow as he watches you scramble to sit up, and you puff up your cheeks indignantly. satoru plops down next to you and pulls you into his chest, face barely an inch away from yours.
"what was that?!" satoru whines, glaring at you sullenly. he tugs at the bottom of your shirt and juts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.  
"satoru, are you jealous?" you snicker, leaning in and kissing his nose. he scrunches his face up and frowns, but the corners of his mouth seem to tilt upwards. satoru pulls you into a kiss and holds you there for a second, smiling against your lips. 
"no," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "i'm hotter than him, and i'm not a total asshole." he wraps his arms around your waist and nudges your cheek with his nose, clear blue eyes focused on your lips. 
"true," you agree, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his embrace. satoru really is the best boyfriend you could ask for—everything about the two of you just works.
satoru pinches you gently and kisses your nose. "say that you love me."
you smile and close your eyes, suddenly more relaxed than you've been in the last couple days. "of course i love you, dummy."
"love you more, cheate— ow, i'm kidding, i'm kidding!"
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autumnmatt · 4 days
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𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.
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summary: matt is playing fornite with his two brothers and he gets to loud when he keeps losing, causing his girlfriend to wake up from her slumber.
classification: fluff
warnings: kissing, pet names, suggestive language, use of y/n
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it was about 3 in the morning and you were fast asleep in yours and matts bed, snuggled up in a blanket with matts stuffed pug mr. wrinkleton tucked under your arm.
matt on the other hand was in the middle of a very intense fornite match with his brothers nick and chris. there were about 10 people left in that match and your boyfriend was very determined to win.
all was going good during the game play until him and his brothers came across this very sweaty team. “on me on me!! these kids are good I need backup quickkk” matt yelled to nick and chris through his headset.
he then faced one of the opposing teammates but of course he lost the battle between them and got knocked. “FUCKKKKK” he screamed out of frustration. nick also got killed a little while after matt did by the same person.
y/n wasn’t that much of a heavy sleeper so when he started to yell out, she shifted in bed a little opening up her eyes to see what the yelling was coming from.
she looked up and saw the bright screen in front of her with fornite being played along with her boyfriend sitting in his gaming chair banging on the desk from just getting killed. she puts the blanket over her head and closes her eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.
“CHRIS DUDE YOURE SO BAD THOSE KIDS WERE ASS” matt yells, slamming his controller on the desk making a very loud sound that could be heard throughout the room.
y/n tossed and turned once more slowly losing the battle of getting back to sleep. so she got up, yanked the covers off of her body, and started sleepily walking over towards matt, dragging her feet with every step she took.
once she made it over to the chair where he sat she stood there, waiting for matt to realize she was standing here. and once he did he could see the pout forming on her lips, instantly feeling guilt for being so loud so late at night.
“oh baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he frowned, muting his mic and taking his headset off then holding his arms out to her and patting his lap, inviting her to come sit down.
she straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his warm body and taking in his familiar scent, the scent she loved most.
“go back to sleep baby, I promise I’ll keep it down”. he said and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her so that he could still have access to the controller also slowly rubbing up and down on her lower back.
“come to bed with me.” she groaned into his shoulder. she was already strarting to fall back asleep.
“of course I will baby.” he smiled taking his hands off the controller putting the headset on one last time to tells his brothers his was going to sleep. he shut of his computer, put his headset and controller up and gently picked her up to bring to the bed.
you wrapped your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling out of his arms. your face now buried into his chest.
he set you down on your side of the bed before walking over to his pulling the blanket over the both of you and situating the pillows so they were at a comfortable position under your heads.
you faced him for a few seconds to say your goodnights. you kissed his lips lazily before speaking. “goodnight I love you.” you spoke up, resting your head onto his chest and wrapping your arms around him.
“goodnight I love you too baby”. he said before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. he kissed your forehead before you slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms.
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a/n: AHHHH I think this is so cute. my 2nd story on here, thank you so much for the love on my first story and definitely send me some requests. hope you enjoyed this fic, love you all!!!
taglist: @stayingstromboli @conspiracy-ash
respond to this post to be apart of my taglist!
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les4elliewilliams · 1 month
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❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞
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LOSER!ELLIE メ MEAN!READER
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❝OH-OH HERE SHE COMES WATCH OUT, GIRL, SHE’LL CHEW YOU UP!❞
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ᝰ.ᐟ ⌞SUMMARY⌝﹕After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart.
✶.ᐟ ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕ approx 16k words⨾ bullying⨾ cursing⨾ use of alcohol and drugs⨾ angst⨾ reader being a bitch for no reason⨾ 18+ CONTENT⨾ cunnilingus (𝑒!receiving)⨾ semi-public sex ig?? (in the bathroom of their workplace)⨾ coworker!ellie⨾ dom!reader⨾ fem!reader⨾ player!reader x loser!ellie⨾ slapping⨾ jealousy issues??⨾ overstimulation⨾ ellie squirting (yumm)⨾ lmk if i missed anything!
.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞AUTHOR´S NOTE⌝﹕this series took me forever to finish and almost deleted it because i had no motivation:3 the whole thing was supposed to be a quick one shot but its too long for that, i fear. (around 40k words) so i decided im gonna split it in two and make a sequel (for those who care); proofread by @sapphichotmess (i love you sm)
#.ᐟ ⌞TAGLIST⌝﹕ @pick-me-up-im-scared @rew1nds @aouiaa [comment to be added!]
#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯
˗ˏˋ 𝕠𝕟𝕖 ⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ˎˊ˗
palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks
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Summer 2023, Santa Barbara.
23th of June.
The first year of college felt like it dragged on forever, with endless lectures, assignments, and late-night cram sessions that blurred into one exhausting marathon. But then, as if in the blink of an eye, it was over. Ellie packed up her dorm room, said her goodbyes, and headed home with the promise of a long, lazy summer stretching out before her.
The auburnette was a quiet introvert with a love for solitary activities, ready to kick back and relax. She loved this time of year—the bright, sunny days and the chilly, star-filled nights. The beach was her favorite place to unwind, where she could lose herself in the soothing rhythm of the waves crashing against the ancient shores and the feel of the sand between her toes. She loved soaking up the sun, letting its warmth seep into her freckled skin, and staying up late with her friends playing video games, adrenaline-pumping matches that promised to take all their sleepiness away, their laughter echoing into the early hours of the morning—or until Joel woke up to her yelling at random kids online and told her to turn it off, threatening to take all her consoles away.
But as the days melted into weeks, a sense of restlessness began to creep in. The once comforting routine now felt monotonous, and Ellie found herself craving something different, suddenly feeling unproductive. The pressure to change her routine was mounting, especially with Joel’s words ringing in her ears. He was dead serious when he told her she needed to stop being a lazy ass and start doing something with her life. He claimed that, by her age, he had already tried almost every job under the sun and didn’t want to see her wasting her days away.
At first, Ellie brushed off Joel's comments, but they lingered in the back of her mind, gnawing at her. Then, Dina chimed in, convincing her to join her and Jesse as lifeguards at the local pool. The idea seemed laughable to Ellie. She couldn’t imagine herself in such a role—standing on the pool deck, whistle in hand, ready to dive in at a moment's notice. But with nothing else on her plate and a growing desire to be productive, Ellie decided to give it a shot. 
What could possibly go wrong, after all?
What else did she have to do? Absolutely nothing. And she figured she could always quit if things were really that bad. No harm in trying, right?
With a mix of nervousness and excitement, the young girl signed up for the lifeguard training course. The first few days were grueling—learning CPR, mastering rescue techniques, and memorizing safety protocols. She quickly realized that she enjoyed the physical challenge and the sense of responsibility that came with the role. Plus, spending her days by the pool wasn’t too far off from her ideal summer.
After a week of rigorous training, Ellie had finally reached a level where she felt ready. However, her confidence faltered when she discovered you were also working there. Every time she beheld you, your ethereal and almost unreal presence left her breathless. Her heart raced wildly, and a lump formed in her throat that threatened to strangle her. She knew who you were but doubted you even knew she existed. You were stunning and popular, seemingly out of her league. She felt like a total loser, a nerd invisible to every girl on the planet, except for those weird and jerky dudes she couldn’t stand. Her feelings of inadequacy were overwhelming, and you sure made her question her own worth and existence. 
She saw you every day on campus, a sprawling green space bustling with students. You were always walking around with your group, a bunch of stylish individuals who cared a lot about their appearances, invariably decked out in expensive clothes. You were part of that clique, but she always felt like you were different somehow. Maybe it was how you looked at her on the first day of college when she accidentally bumped into you and made all your books drop to the floor.
Ellie remembered that moment vividly. The campus, with its towering oak trees and vibrant flower beds, had been buzzing with the energy of new beginnings. She had been rushing to her next class, preoccupied with a million different thoughts when she collided with you. Your books scattered across the walkway, and she dropped to her knees, frantically trying to gather them up while mumbling apologies. Your friends' disdainful looks made her cheeks burn with humiliation, but your reaction was entirely different. You crouched down, your fingers brushing against hers as you both reached for the same book, and you gave her a smile that was kind and understanding.
She couldn’t help but replay the moment in her mind, wondering if it had meant as much to you as it had to her. 
Jesse’s constant teasing didn’t help. He loved to remind her of her awkwardness, mimicking how she stumbled over her words and nearly fell on her face right in front of you.
And now, seeing you standing there, the auburnette felt that same nervous energy bubbling up again. Your red lifeguard uniform clung to your body like a second skin, making her heart perform a series of pathetic, acrobatic flips. She watched you from a distance, marveling at how effortlessly you moved, how you seemed to command attention without even trying. You were a natural leader, confident and composed, while Ellie felt like a bundle of nerves just trying to keep up. A small part of her that hoped she might get to know you better, to see if that smile you had given her on the first day was a glimpse of something more.
“Oh shiii- she works here too?” Ellie looked to her best friend Dina, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she observed your every move. You casually blowing your whistle at a group of kids playing fights with crumbs of bread stood out to her immediately, watching in fascination as you effortlessly kept the children in line.
“Yeah, ‘course she does.” Dina couldn't contain a small snort of laughter as she pulled on a vibrant red T-shirt over her red bikini, its vivacious color standing out against her tanned skin. “She does every year,” she shared, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement. But how could she know this when all she did was immerse herself in gaming, hanging out with friends, and getting high rather than seeking part-time work to earn extra cash like every other 18-year-old? 
She also found it perplexing that a wealthy individual like you would even bother working in the first place; after all, from what she had heard, you always got whatever you asked for from your father. She guessed that the only possible reasons you might have been working were to become more independent or to seek out something to occupy your time.
“Oh.” Her rosy pink lips formed a perfect 'o' shape, her surprise evident in how they parted. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered loudly to her friend. 
Dina's brow rose quizzically as she placed her hands on her hips. “Why, did you want to know?” Dina shot Ellie a doubtful look, the same disapproving glance she always gave her whenever Ellie expressed interest in a girl who ultimately turned out to be straight.
The redhead nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, “No, but–” she was quick to cut her off before Ellie could come up with an excuse that wouldn't hold water. Her friend could read her like an open book, and she knew certainly what was going on just by witnessing the heart-shaped pupils of Ellie's eyes as they lingered on you from afar.
“–Nuh-uh. You’re just being a delusional lesbian again,” Dina called her out on it, and the freckled girl reacted almost dramatically, gasping at the brunette's accusation.
“Don’t give me that look,” she pointed a finger at Ellie, finger jabbing the air like a weapon of accusation. “You told me to stop you before you started falling for another straight girl, and that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. Calling you out on your shit.” Dina’s voice was firm and uncompromising, her words leaving no space for negotiation or debate. Her eyes, deep pools of golden-hued amber, narrowed into slits, fixed on her friend with a steely gaze. The young girl knew better than to argue with her best friend.
Deep down, Ellie knew Dina was right. Images of her previous “relationship” flashed through her mind—the heartbreak, the disappointment, the tears—all because some bi-curious girl had led her on, only to reject her in the end. Who was there to pick up the pieces and put her back together again? None other than Dina, of course. And Jesse, but he wasn’t that helpful.
The green-eyed girl crossed her arms over her chest and huffed in response, her frustration evident in her defensive body language. “But she smiled at me on the first day of college, remember? When I bumped into her and made her drop all her books?”
Dina rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh, shaking her head in disbelief, she truly couldn’t believe how clueless and naive her best friend could be at times, or maybe she just pretended to be dumb as fuck; Dina wasn’t sure. “Ellie, she was just being nice. That doesn’t mean she’s into you.” frustration colored her voice.
A sigh left the redhead’s lips, her gaze trailing back to you, unable to keep her eyes from checking you out. Seeing you sent her thoughts astray, her heart racing as she studied your features once more. “I know, I know. But a girl can dream, right?”
“Yeah, dream away. Just don’t get your hopes up too high. We’ve got a job to do, so stop daydreaming about unattainable girls and go get changed.” The black-haired girl demanded, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her arms hanging by her sides.
Ellie nodded, trying to push aside her feelings of infatuation. She knew Dina was right, but it was hard to ignore the fluttering in her chest every time her hazel eyes landed on you. 
The first day, Jesse showed the auburnette around, explaining all the rules she and everyone else had to follow—when to yell at people, when to blow the whistle, the regular stuff. Ellie wanted to talk to you, to introduce herself at the very least, considering you were colleagues now, but she didn’t have the guts.
How you walked around and carried yourself, it was almost as if you owned the place. You were so confident, and Ellie felt like a creep for not being able to ignore your presence. Her eyes naturally darted towards you, tracing every contour and inch of your exposed body, only covered by a red one-piece swimsuit. You looked like you were coming straight out of Baywatch, looking like every teenage boy’s dream... and hers, too. 
She felt ashamed for not being any better than a man.
Ellie really tried to focus on what Jesse was saying, but her mind kept drifting back to you. She felt a mix of awe and frustration. How could someone be so effortlessly captivating? The way you moved, the way you interacted with everyone—it was like you belonged in a different league.
“Ellie, you with me?” Jesse’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“Uh, yeah, sorry,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks heat up.
Jesse raised an eyebrow but continued. “Like I was saying, just remember to stay alert and don’t hesitate to step in if something looks off. We’ve got a good team here, so don’t worry.”
Ellie nodded, trying to absorb the information. She glanced at you again, noticing how you seemed completely at ease, chatting and laughing with the other lifeguards. The auburnette envied that ease, that confidence, something she seemed to lack. Ellie always felt out of place in moments like this. She tried not to be so shy and be more easygoing, but your presence felt almost intimidating. She couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy. You were so stunning, so composed, and she felt like a fucking loser in comparison.
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24th of June.
Since she couldn’t bring herself to talk to you on the first day, Ellie tried again on the second, encouraged by Jesse’s comforting words, “Try not to look like a drooling loser when you talk to her,” He couldn't help but crack a smile at the almost imperceptible scoff she gave him in response. Her sun-kissed cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, making her freckles look like tiny specks of stardust against a rosy sky. It was endearing how easy it was to tease her, and what Jesse found more endearing was how she couldn’t tear her attentive eyes away from you, tracking your every move like a hawk eyeing its next meal or an art connoisseur fixated on a masterpiece—almost as if you were the center of her universe, a celestial body she could orbit but never touch. 
He knocked his shoulder into hers, sending her stumbling awkwardly and bursting her fragile soap bubble, scattering her thoughts into a chaotic mess. Startled and momentarily yanked out of her little barrier of daydreams and delusions, she mumbled defensively under her breath, “I’m not a loser.” Before she could gather herself, he was already striding away, heading toward a group of kids running around the pool, corralling them like a shepherd with a sharp blow of his whistle.
Her ivy-hued irises followed him for a moment before drifting back to you. You were conversing with an older woman, a beaming smile adorning your face as you nodded at her words every now and then; your hair framed your immaculate features in such a way that Ellie wanted to capture that moment forever. Something about your effortless beauty captivated her; you were so perfect that it made her wonder if you could possibly be real. Could you be just the result of her wild imagination? Possibly, yeah.
Ellie just lingered in the background, waiting patiently for an opportunity to approach you without interrupting your conversation. She had been acting busy, meticulously inspecting the pool to make sure everyone was following the rules, but her eyes kept drifting back to you. She couldn’t help it. When she observed you walking towards a plastic chair, sensing her chance, she mustered up her courage and approached you.
Don’t be a pussy, don’t be a pussy. Ellie repeated the words to herself like a mantra.
Her heart raced wildly as she walked towards you, her mind a whirl of anxious thoughts. What if she stumbled over her words?
With every step she took, the knots in her stomach grew tighter and tighter.
She kept debating with herself, inching closer and closer to you. Honestly, the thought of talking to you was unbearable. She knew she’d end up looking like a fool. Why was she even trying to get your attention? Wait, was that really her intention? Was she actually planning to make you like her? She huffed at her desperation.
Maybe she could just turn back and pretend you weren’t there. Like she didn’t see you every day at work. 
As she continued her internal argument, your voice suddenly snapped her back to reality.
“Hey, you’re the new girl,” You exclaimed, taking a confident step toward the freckle-faced girl. She swore she could almost see the confidence pouring out of your every pore, her heart pounding wildly in her chest and palms becoming disgustingly clammy as her cheeks flushed, the relentless sun only making it worse. Being so close to you, Ellie noticed how each strand of your hair swayed with the gentle summer breeze that had decided to bless them on the disturbingly hot summer day.
There was no fucking way you noticed her, no fucking way you were talking to her right now. Ellie forced out a dry, awkward chuckle, “Y-yeah. Think that’s me,” she stumbled over her words, giving you a half-crooked smile, her eyes darting around nervously, avoiding direct eye contact. She felt ridiculous for not being able to maintain steady eye contact. Why did she have to be so embarrassing? Why was talking to pretty girls so fucking hard?
“Yeah,” you responded with a steady tone, in stark contrast to her shaky and almost timid voice. Your gaze shamelessly roamed over every inch of her, taking in every detail from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. A barely audible hum escaped your lips, “Ellen, right?” you inquired, your eyes locking briefly before the aubrunette looked away again.
“Ellie,” she corrected you shyly, her slender fingers absentmindedly tracing delicate patterns on the back of her neck.
“Why, what did I say?” you questioned nonchalantly, still studying her. She felt small and insignificant under your scrutinizing gaze, almost judged. All of a sudden, she felt so self-conscious about her looks.
“Nothing,” she mumbled, snorting quietly. Uncertain of what to do next and feeling almost scared of contradicting you, she hesitantly reached out her hand toward you. Your inquisitive eyes locked onto her veiny hand, studying it for a few moments before finally shaking it. “Nice to meet you.” 
Starstruck eyes stared right back at yours, and a wide grin that never left her face. She felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins as she held your hand, letting it linger a bit longer than necessary, though too lost in a world of her own to notice. After a whole semester pining over you on campus, watching you from afar like a Joel Goldberg, she finally found herself face-to-face with you, engaged in a real conversation. She had been waiting for this moment for a lifetime, almost, feeling truly seen and known by you for the very first time.
A slow smile crept across your face, and your gaze dropped down to her hand, which was still firmly attached to yours in a stubborn grip like a tenacious octopus refusing to let go. “Don’t get attached,” Your jest had a confident, almost boastful tone, causing her heart to skip a beat.
Were you making fun of her? Was she making a fool of herself? Her mind quickly became consumed by overthinking. It was absurd; how could she draw such strong conclusions after just two minutes of conversation with you? Three minutes was enough to send her thoughts into a tempestuous cyclone, their rhythm erratic and tumultuous. She told herself that she was simply overthinking, but sometimes, it's easy to mistake intuition for overthinking.
The nervous girl forced out a strained, strangled chuckle, “I’ll try not to,” she said, attempting to match your casual tone, even though her heart was still racing.
You laughed softly, a sound that seemed to echo in her mind long after you walked away. Ellie stood there for a moment, trying to steady her breath and slow down her chaotic thoughts. Her eyes darted towards Dina, who stood nearby with a smirk on her face, arms crossed over her chest and leaning nonchalantly against the bar wall. Her long, dark brown hair was tied up in a high, sleek ponytail, and she casually chewed on a piece of gum, observing the entire encounter with a mixture of amusement and appraisal.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dina teased her friend, walking over to her.
Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, sure. Piece of cake,” she muttered, though the adrenaline still coursed through her veins.
As the day continued, Ellie found herself glancing at you more often than she’d like to admit. Each time she saw you, she felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. She couldn’t shake the gut feeling that this summer was going to be different.
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28th of June.
Ellie sighed in relief as she sought refuge under the closest patch of shade she could find. The scorching sun was relentless, turning her into a messy canvas for glistening beads of sweat to trickle down her dotted face and back. The air felt heavy and stagnant, intensifying the already stifling heat. It seemed like the sun had a personal vendetta against her today, making every little thing feel ten times more irritating.
Like you, for example.
Being around you was a source of never-ending irritation for her, and she despised the fact that she had to share the same airspace with you. It was an injustice in her eyes, how your stunning good looks did not reflect your unpleasant personality. How could looks be so fucking deceiving? Ellie had no clue, all she knew was that she fell for it. Every. Single. Time.
The fury inside her was like an uncontrollable wildfire as she aggressively scribbled over your name with her pen in her journal. If only it were that easy to erase you completely, to make you vanish as if you had never existed. Feeling completely dumb for even remotely thinking that you could be any different from the people you hung out with. Every time she had to interact with you, the only thoughts echoing in her mind were Dina's warning words. 
Dina was right.
But Ellie would never say it out loud only to get an “I told you” back.
Everyone had warned her about you—they all knew the truth about your character, yet she found herself stubbornly holding onto the belief that there was something more to you than just the surface-level impression. If she were to add your name to a list of defining terms, it would undoubtedly be accompanied by words like “evil,”“spoiled,” or even the simplest yet most descriptive term, “brat.”
Working with you was a constant nightmare; even being in the same vicinity as you felt like torturous purgatory. You seemed incapable of restraining yourself, constantly throwing witty, biting remarks to the anxious girl, even when she hadn't provoked you in any way. It perplexed her—why did you take such pleasure in taunting her? It was as if the world itself would implode if you didn’t pick on her despite the seemingly nonexistent reasons behind your hostility. She often found herself rambling about you to her friends. This time, though, not in a good way.
Talking to you felt like a return to the nightmarish experience that was middle school, a trip down memory lane that brought back memories she had worked so hard to forget. The bullying she had endured during that period had left a lasting impact on her, and your presence seemed to trigger something in her. It was for that exact reason that she tried her best to keep any interactions with you brief, limited to the bare essentials.
She watched as you sprang from your seat, sprinting after the kids, yelling at them, the shrill sound of your annoying whistle piercing the air. Threats flew from your mouth, aimed at their misbehavior and disruption of the pool’s tranquility. The best part? No one seemed to care about your passive-aggressive attitude because, let’s face it, you were just doing your job, and you were pretty damn good at it—pretty damn good at scaring people.
Ellie’s eyes took in the kids' terrified faces as they looked up at you, wide-eyed and quivering, but you didn’t care. Their fear didn’t stop you from messing with their childish, naive minds. Their innocence was like a delicate flower, easily manipulated. If Ellie claimed she didn't find it amusing, her nose would’ve grown like Pinocchio’s. It was almost comical how easily you maintained order, seemingly without effort. You possessed a natural inclination for control, a characteristic that could be a strength or a flaw, depending on one's perspective. 
“You know what happens if you run on a wet floor? You slip and hit your head,” you barked, hands firmly planted on your hips. “Is that what you two little gremlins want? To end up in a hospital with a cracked skull?” The kids darted off to their mothers, who were too engrossed in their own conversations to notice. You scoffed, watching them scamper away like puppies with their tails between their legs. Crossing your arms over your red bikini top, you muttered, “That’s what I thought,” a smirk curling your lips. It was almost as if you derived some twisted satisfaction from seeing others—especially kids—tremble in fear. There was an ever-present sadistic delight in your eyes whenever someone dared to cross your path, a blend of authority and mischief that made you the unchallenged queen of the poolside.
Ellie only ever saw a warm smile on your face when you were talking to the moms of the kids you had scared away in such a devilish manner. You transformed around them, becoming overly sugary-sweet, showering them with compliments and shooting wide grins their way. Your demeanor softened, offering them drinks as if you were hosting a garden party instead of working at a public pool.
The redhead scoffed as she tried to decipher your persona. You were a walking contradiction, a goddess clad in a red bikini. One moment, you were a menacing warden, barking orders and traumatizing kids; the next, you were a social butterfly, all warm smiles and saccharine charm with their moms. So fucking weird.
Ellie didn’t expect you to notice her presence not so far behind you, but nothing ever seemed to escape your attention. You were like a hawk, sharply observant, contrasting your superficial personality. Then again, maybe it was all an act you were putting on. Ellie marveled at the paradox of your nature—how you seemed so frivolous and charming on the surface yet were always acutely aware of everything happening around you. It was as if you had a second set of eyes hidden behind your back, always watching, always calculating, leaving her to wonder what was real and what was merely a façade.
“What? Got something to say?” Your voice was anything but friendly, ready to spark an argument over nothing. Your arched brows seemed to challenge her, daring her to complain or speak her mind in any way. 
Maybe she should just drop it before you could escalate things. Ellie wasn't in the mood for meaningless bickering, especially not under the blazing sun, sweating like a cow. 
But sometimes, her body loved to betray her.
“That was just a little bit harsh, is all,” the words slipped out before she could stop them, only realizing she'd spoken aloud when your expression shifted to a mocking smirk.
“Pardon?” You challanged, daring her to continue. She knew you had heard her perfectly; if you had caught her scoff a few seconds ago, there was no way you missed her comment now. The awkward girl knew what you were doing—trying to make her feel small and stupid for speaking up.
She couldn't back down now.
Ellie gulped, nerves tightening in her stomach, but stood her ground. “It’s just... they’re kids, you know?” Her voice wavered slightly, but she held your gaze, determined not to let you intimidate her.
“And?” You looked at her like she was exaggerating, as if she had been the one yelling at kids for having fun, threatening to call the police on them, or telling them she'd hijack their Christmas gifts from Santa and sell them on the black market.
Ellie knew there was no point in arguing or trying to tell you off, so she shook her head slowly, her eyes glued to the wet mosaic tiles. An airy chuckle escaped her lips as she replied, “Nothing.”
But of course, you didn’t drop it. “We gotta make sure people—especially kids—don’t get hurt, and if you don’t yell at them, they’re just going to keep doing it—that’s how kids are,” you justify your actions without a hint of remorse in your voice or on your face. The freckled girl knew you were right, but she tended to be softer with kids.
Ellie loved kids and swore nothing was better than being young, carefree, and without worries beyond your favorite toys and your best friend. Sometimes, she missed being a kid, even if she still felt like one deep down. Perhaps the fact that Joel kept treating her like one didn’t help. Always spamming her with texts, asking if she had eaten when she wasn’t home, staying out all day. Asking her a thousand questions at a time, enough to make her brain short-circuit.
“You terrified them!” Ellie exclaimed, though an involuntary laugh slipped out with her words, causing you to smirk ever so slightly.
“Oh, sorry, Eleonor,” you taunted, deliberately getting her name wrong as you stepped closer. “How ‘bout you teach me your ways?” Sarcasm dripped from your voice as your eyes locked with hers. For once, the green-eyed girl managed not to look away; your eyes were so animated and clever, like a fox's gaze, giving off the impression that you were always one step ahead and knew more than you let on.
Ellie’s expression dropped as soon as ‘her’ name rolled off your tongue. You were trying to get under her skin, as always, and despite it being something so insignificant, it worked wonders. The fact that you were invading her personal space didn't help either. “It’s Ellie,” she puffed.
“Oh, I thought it was short for Eleonor,” you said mockingly.
“Nope, just Ellie—’s not short for anything,” she replied, her tone tinged with annoyance, causing you to grin like the Cheshire cat. God, if you loved getting her worked up, having her wrapped around your finger, and messing with her mood so easily. It was endearing, truly.
“Hmm… dunno, I like Eleonor better, though,” you insisted with a cheeky grin. Your voice took on a more sultry tone. Or had she imagined it? Maybe she had.
Ellie had heard that being under the sun for too long could cause hallucinations and general sickness, and she was already sweating like crazy. That was her explanation, because why in the world would you ever try to flirt with her?
“Well, ‘s not my name,” she insisted.
The tanned girl’s chest expanded as her breath caught in her throat as you drew nearer with each passing moment. You inched so close that she could almost discern the individual strands of your eyelashes that cast shadows on her cheeks, the way your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Your intense gaze, focused and persistent, traced the contours of her cheeks. 
Entranced, Ellie found her emerald eyes involuntarily drawn to your lips, merely inches away from hers. Unconsciously, she moistened her own lips, utterly captivated as she absorbed every pore and mole on your skin, revering every aspect of your being, whether flaw or perfection, with unwavering devotion in her mind. You were insanely beautiful; it was almost unfair. 
You extended your hand to cup her cheek gently, your thumb dragging across her cheekbone, spreading the sunscreen she had hastily applied in the morning. Ellie instinctively flinched at the unexpected contact. “You can't even apply sunscreen correctly,” you sneered, your voice dripping with mockery, before abruptly withdrawing and turning on your heel, leaving her standing there completely bewildered and disoriented.
What the fuck?
She spotted her dear best friend Dina, and Ellie ran up to her, eager to spill everything that had happened. A weird frustration churned inside her, a knot in her stomach that seemed to tighten as she rambled on and on about how obnoxious you were. She was down bad and wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Like- what the hell is her pro—” but Dina had enough.
“Jesus, get a grip, Ellie! Can’t you see I’m busy? You don’t get paid to act like a schoolgirl,” Dina groaned deeply, her manicured hands moving swiftly as she folded the pastel-colored towels, her eyes glued to her agitated friend. The cinnamon-haired girl had been caught in a continuous rant for the last 30 minutes, carelessly stumbling into Dina and disrupting her work as she paced around in a flustered manner.
Ellie groaned deeply in return, almost indignant at Dina’s reaction. How could she brush her off like this instead of offering comfort and reassuring words? Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do? Well, she had been, but at some point, the brunette grew tired of repeating herself over and over.
“I just don’t understand!” Ellie exclaimed furiously, her voice raising just enough to draw the attention of a few people sitting on the pool’s edge. To top it off, when she gestured, her hands knocked into the drinks Jesse was carrying as he approached the two girls from behind. Luckily, the cups were plastic, but the tray was thicker, causing a disturbing noise as it clattered on the mosaic. Ellie’s verdant emeralds widened, and she whipped around, cursing under her breath, “Shit, Jesse!”
She mumbled a flurry of apologies to the taller guy as she crouched down to help with the mess she had inadvertently caused. Her bare knees pressed against the cool, wet mosaic as her hands quickly gathered the plastic cups, stacking them one by one. As she fumbled to collect the scattered paper umbrellas, now lying crumpled on the moist floor, she placed them back on the tray, her movements slightly clumsy. Her chest tightened with embarrassment at the scene she had created.
“The fuck’s going on with you, man?” Jesse’s eyes scanned her face, confused.
“Her little girlfriend! That’s what happened,” his girlfriend exclaimed, completely fed up.
“Oh my god, Dina!” Ellie groaned, exasperated.
Jesse, being his usual self, furrowed his unplucked brows together. A quizzical expression took over his features, “You got a girlfriend?” he asked, bewildered, which seemed to throw Dina off even more, the confusion in his voice only adding fuel to the fire. 
The brunette shook her head, facepalming herself with an exasperated sigh. “I’m done,” she declared before walking away from the two, leaving them staring after her. She had been acting a little lunatic the whole day; maybe she was on her period. Ellie didn’t know. Or maybe it was because she had clumsily dropped Dina’s phone into the pool exactly three hours ago, the same phone she had worked so hard to get because her old one was falling apart like the Pisa tower. But hey, it was still working!
“Who? Cat?” the taller boy suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He redirected his attention back to his friend, and for a moment, all she could do was scoff. She couldn't believe he had actually brought up a girl she dated over three years ago. 
Ellie looked at him in disbelief, her heart-shaped lips slightly agape as if she was about to say something, ready to go off on him, but decided against it at the last moment. ‘Typical Jesse,’ she thought to herself. He knew everything because he always hung out with them, and if he didn’t, his girlfriend made sure to keep him in the loop. Plus, Ellie had a habit of rambling about every girl who kept her up at night, so it was impossible to miss or forget. But that's just how Jesse was—blissfully oblivious and fucking clueless. 
Ellie shook her head and sighed deeply before walking off as well.
“Why? What did I say?” He called out after her, his voice raised just enough to catch her attention. He watched as she stalked away, her irritation clear in the way she carried herself. He was left standing there, looking lost and utterly baffled, with a plastic tray in his hand.
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30th of June.
It wasn’t long until another girl joined the team. Ellie was now responsible for introducing the new member and orienting her to the job. She meticulously explained all the rules and how everything worked, ensuring the new girl was well-prepared and well-trained for the job. Otherwise, you’d be on her ass about it, blaming the auburnette for any mistakes, just like you normally did. 
Ellie was initially hesitant, nervously stumbling over her words and avoiding the girl’s Lapis lazuli gaze. However, as time passed, she began to feel more at ease in the blonde's presence. Alexis exuded sweetness and was undeniably beautiful. They found their usual spot by the lifeguard station, sitting side by side and engaging in conversations that meandered through various topics. As they talked, their gazes wandered idly across the bustling pools, and a gentle breeze enveloped them, offering a pleasant sensation on their sun-warmed skin.
The weather was perfect. The gentle breeze kept the air just the right temperature, and the sunshine was warm without being too intense. Fluffy white clouds floated by, offering a welcome break from the direct sunlight. Their billowing forms shielded the freckled girl from the harsh rays that might otherwise have left her fair skin burnt and uncomfortable.
She had not set out intending to forge new friendships that summer. Although It felt too soon to label Alexis as a friend, she didn’t mind the possibility of meeting new people. Though she treasured her current friends, there were times when she craved the fresh energy that came with forming new connections. She recognized that stepping out of her comfort zone and meeting new faces could bring a welcome change, and she needed to ‘expand her social horizons’—Joel’s words.
However, you didn’t waste a second. You quickly disrupted Ellie’s fleeting moment of peace, shouting her name loudly and incessantly. Initially, she tried to ignore you, hoping you would give up and leave her be. But you persisted, standing by the bar, leaning against the counter, and chanting her name. When she feigned deafness, you resorted to using your trusty megaphone, the latest object of your obsession, employing it for seemingly every trivial matter.
"Eleanor Williams!”
She closed her eyes and cringed inwardly as her cheeks flushed a bright pink, embarrassed by the unwanted attention she was receiving from the onlookers around her. Their confused glances only added to her discomfort, making her wish for the ground to swallow her up on the spot.
Why did you have to be like this? She stopped asking herself that at some point.
Alexis furrowed her perfectly arched brows, her crystal blue eyes filled with puzzlement as she gazed at Ellie. Her head tilted gracefully to the side, highlighting her confusion as she asked, “Who’s Eleanor?”
“It’s me.” Ellie let out a heavy sigh, slowly rising from her pristine plastic chair, her gaze shifting downwards to the small, delicate figure of the girl before her, muttering, “Be right back,” 
She strode cautiously towards you, avoiding eye contact with everyone looking at her. Every step she took brought her closer to you, but your relentless shouting through the megaphone continued unabated. 
“How many times do I have to shout your name?” You stood with an air of drama, waving your hands in sweeping arcs above you. Your body swayed gently as you shifted your weight to one foot, and your free hand found its place resting comfortably on your hip.
“Once was enough,” Ellie replied flatly. The tension in her expression hinted at the internal dialogue she had engaged in as if she had carefully composed herself, steeling her mind and heart for whatever was coming.
“The fuck are you doing?” You stood there, gazing blankly at her. A hand rested on your left hip, mirroring the other hand on your right hip. The white megaphone was wedged against your side, the loose laces of the bottom of your bikini swaying gently in the breeze.
“What do you mean?” 
“Why are you just sitting there doing absolutely nothing?” you demanded, cutting her off as she tried to reply. “See those ladies over there? They ordered four diet cokes.”
“And?” She pressed her lips together, her eyebrows furrowing as she stared at you, confused.
“So get them their drinks—Gosh! Are you, like, stupid?” You exclaimed with annoyance, the frustration evident in your voice. Ellie’s brows, marked with scars, furrowed as she prepared to engage in a heated argument. “You… drinks… ladies over there… diet coke. Understand?” With a slow and exaggerated mocking tone, as if talking to an alien from outer space.
Ellie’s veiny arms were tightly crossed over her vibrant red t-shirt, creating a striking contrast against her fair skin. A look of determination furrowed her brow, her cheeks flushing as red as a ripe tomato, betraying her attempt to maintain composure and not cause any scene. “I’m a lifeguard,” she reminded you.
You couldn't help but stifle a dry chuckle as the corners of your lips curled up into a smile at her statement, practically laughing in her face. Stepping closer to her, you couldn't contain your amusement, “Look,” you said with a grin, your eyes fixated on the pool. The vibrant scene unfolded before you—children playing and swimming while adults engaged in animated conversations. 
Ellie turned around, following your gaze, and then turned her face back to yours, clearly not comprehending what you were referring to. “Look at what?” She found herself unable to resist the urge to question you again, the slight edge of irritation creeping into her voice, her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.
“Exactly—no one’s drowning.” You pointed to the lively pool, the laughter and chatter filling the air. Her gaze remained fixed on the scene before her, and her peripheral vision tracked you as you leaned in close to her. Your warm breath tickled the side of her neck, and she involuntarily shivered at the sensation. The auburnette froze in place, feeling your face mere inches away from her ear, “You’re not just a lifeguard. You’re whatever I want you to be,” you said, your voice a sinister hiss in her ear, each word dripping with venomous mockery. The corners of your mouth curled upwards into a prideful grin, your eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as you reveled in your power over her. She fought the urge to wipe that irritating expression off your stupid face. You were extremely gorgeous but so insanely maddening at the same time.
She clenched her jaw in frustration, her gaze following you as you sauntered away to talk to an older woman who was a regular at the pool with her child. Her self-admonishment grew when she caught herself checking you out, her eyes taking in the softness of your thighs, hips, and the inviting roundness of your ass. She hated herself even more for her body’s instinctive reaction to such a vision, a mixture of conflicting emotions coursing through her.
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4th Of July.
The day was oppressively hot, and the pool was more crowded than usual, adding to the chaos. Ellie constantly moved back and forth, attending to tasks she had not anticipated having to do. When she applied for the job, she had envisioned a laid-back role where she could relax, sit on her ass and move only when necessary. Cause the chances of anyone drowning in a pool were very low, let’s be realistic. Instead, you proved her wrong, forcing trusting her with responsibilities that didn’t belong on her shoulders.
What truly frustrated her was how you remained still, doing absolutely nothing, while constantly barking orders and yelling at everyone around you. It drove the green-eyed girl crazy to witness how effortlessly you directed others without lifting a finger yourself.
Ellie collected the empty beer cans two men had left on the black countertop, wiping sweat from her forehead with her other arm, baby hairs sticking to her damp skin. She couldn’t help but scoff as she observed you from a distance. You were near the pool, lounging casually on a towel with your arms propping you up behind your back, engaged in animated conversation with your friends. You giggled loudly every now and then, amused by the hurtful comments your friends made about people who remained blissfully unaware of their disdainful stares.
Judgmental snakes that acted as if no one could measure up to or surpass them. It absolutely infuriated her. She loathed how you and those kids seemed to effortlessly receive everything you desired on a silver platter, while average people like her had to labor relentlessly for anything she hoped to achieve in her life.
It wasn't actually the wealth itself that angered her; rather, it was the blatant arrogance and smugness you all displayed, as if being wealthy automatically made you superior individuals with no moral values or empathy for anyone else.
Nevertheless, you had stunned her with your choice of attire that day—a two-piece bikini that revealed your captivating figure. Despite feeling frustrated that she couldn't catch a break while you lounged around doing nothing, she couldn't help but admire your otherworldly physique. Yet, it was wrong to feel that way about a piece of shit like you.
“Glad someone’s keeping her busy,” Alexis’ voice acted like an invisible tug on Ellie's sleeve, pulling her back from her thoughts. The freckled girl shook her head as if trying to clear her mind and curiously responded with a quiet “hm?”
“Too busy shit-talking with her friends to be up our ass,” The honey-haired girl carefully adjusted her hair, tucking a stray piece of golden hair behind her pierced ear. Ellie couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the girl’s remark, responding with a warm smile and a subtle bob of her head.
“Right? I don’t understand how they haven’t kicked her out yet; she does nothing all day!” she complained as the blonde behind the countertop meticulously cleaned up the spill on the sleek black marble surface, casting a quizzical gaze in her direction.
“Kick who out?”
“Y/N.” Ellie leaned her forearms on the countertop, her gaze locked onto her blue ones.
Alexis let out a scoff and gave her a look “Why would her father kick her out?” Ellie’s eyes widened in surprise, her voice strangled as she almost choked on the air she was breathing. The incredulity in her expression was palpable, a clear indication that she had no fucking clue.
“What’d you say?” She questioned tentatively, inwardly hoping that her ears were merely playing tricks on her. The disbelief in her voice was evident as she tried to make sense of the shocking revelation she had just heard.
“She owns this place—you didn’t know?” Alexis asked in disbelief, speaking as if the information were common knowledge, which made it all the more surprising that Ellie was unaware of it.
But given your wealthy background and how you carried yourself, it suddenly made perfect sense. Everything fell into place. Your commanding presence wasn't just a show of authority—you actually owned this entire establishment. You weren't striving to save money for some personal goal as Ellie had assumed; rather, you were here because your family had ownership over the pool, the spa nearby, and every other facility in this area.
“Dude, I had no fucking clue,” she uttered, flabbergasted, her emerald green eyes darting in your direction as a gentle breeze played with the soft, auburn strands of her hair, tickling her face. 
The freckled girl observed the scene unfolding before her, her eyes fixed on the tall, muscular guy approaching your small group, a golden retriever trotting loyally at his side. Despite his sunglasses, she could sense his gaze fixated on you, and when you stood up to greet him, she watched your lips move but couldn't discern any words. Her thoughts were interrupted by Alexis's rambling, but her attention quickly shifted back to you as the guy started to engage in conversation with you, her stomach twisting in a strange flutter of unease.
“Are dogs even allowed in here?” was the first thing Ellie grumbled, her irritation evident as she interrupted her friend's rambling monologue. It was clear that she wasn't really paying attention to what was being said, her mind preoccupied with other thoughts.
“Pshh—when I wanted to bring my dog in here, she said I couldn't.” Alexis huffed, passing a popsicle to the young boy who had approached and requested it. A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth before storming off with his little brother. “Had to leave my Nana home with-” But Ellie wasn't having it. She was already storming towards you, her green eyes flashing with anger and determination. You had alwas doled out rules yet seemed to disregard them yourself. She didn't care if you owned the place and had the authority to do as you pleased. As far as she was concerned, you needed to adhere to the standards you had set, and she was determined to make that happen… and she wanted that guy gone. 
Your two friends remained laid out on their towels, one sipping on a cocktail and the other engaged in a gossip session, their conversation marked by animated gestures. However, as Ellie approached, they immediately took notice. This time, she paid no mind to their gazes, instead stomping up to stand just behind you, her arms crossed in a defensive stance. Meanwhile, you were oblivious to her presence, completely unaware of her lurking behind you.
You knelt down to give the guy's dog some attention, running your fingers through its soft fur and scratching behind its ears. You continued to pet the dog, a sweet smile gracing your lips, “Such a cute fuckin’ dog, aren’t ya?” Ellie listened as you let out a low chuckle, your voice dropping into a silly tone as you spoke to the dog. The pup seemed to perk up at your voice, tilting her head slightly to the side as you found the sweet spot behind her ear, causing her to lean into your touch and let out a soft whine. “Like owner, like dog.” You looked up at the guy, your voice taking on a more flirtatious tone than Ellie had ever heard you use before. Your eyes sparkled with a hint of innocence as you slowly stood back up.
The sleazy guy chuckled, a gravelly sound that echoed into Ellie's ears, threatening to make them bleed. It was incredible how, with just a hint of attention, you made him feel like he'd struck gold in a barren desert. You barely gave him the time of day, but that sliver of acknowledgment had him grinning like he’d just hit the jackpot. 
The boy’s eyes were glued to your chest, drooling over your perfect goddamn tits as if he'd discovered a hidden treasure in the most unexpected place. You were a twisted goddess of fortune, and he was more than happy to worship, soaking up every precious moment with a grin that said he’d do anything to stay in this heavenly hell. But all you needed was his weed, and while he was fantasizing about you, you were already thinking of dumping his ass when you didn't need him anymore. 
“What’s her name?” You flashed him a charming smile as you spoke, tilting your head slightly to one side as you looked up at him with a coy expression.
“Nelly,” He replied, pulling up his sunglasses, his brown eyes devouring every curve of your body without a hint of shame. He was eye-fucking you like it was just another day, and Ellie felt the bile rise in her throat. Men never ceased to amaze her; they were all disgusting, perverted assholes hiding behind a thin veil of chill and manners. What pissed her off even more was that you were letting it happen. You were into it. You reveled in the attention, loving every second of being liked, as if his filthy gaze was some kind of twisted validation. 
Was that what you needed? Validation?
Ellie decided to chime in, clearing her throat loudly. Your head snapped her way, surprise lighting up your sun-kissed features. Your carefully styled hair tumbling down your back—just one of the many things about you that baffled her. Why the hell would you spend time styling your hair every morning just to go to the pool? The heat and sweat would mess it up anyway. It was like trying to keep a snowman from melting in a sauna, completely pointless, but somehow, you did it every damn day.
“Dogs aren’t allowed.” The aburnette firmly stated, her words hanging in the air, drawing confused looks from you and the guy as if she were speaking a different language. But Ellie didn’t give a damn; she was just doing her job. Her mission was to keep everyone in line, making sure the rules were followed to the letter. That’s what your daddy was paying her for, right? 
You quickly brushed off her statement, returning your attention to the guy before you. “Nelly, huh?” you questioned with a wide smile, your eyes flicking to the dog patiently sitting at her owner’s feet. Her golden fur gleamed under the sunlight, her eyes a beautiful honey color. 
Ellie didn’t have anything against the dog; she loved dogs and had always wanted one. But that dude needed to fuck off. She couldn’t even put her finger on why she felt this way, so irritated and annoyed, like an itch she couldn’t scratch. The sight of you flirting with that douchebag made her blood boil, leaving her wondering why it all pissed her off so much.
“Just like my friend here.” You suddenly exclaimed, your fake, cheerful voice, cutting through the tense atmosphere and snapping Ellie out of her turbulent thoughts. 
“My name’s not—” she began, but you shut her off, waving a dismissive hand in her direction.
“Yeah, yeah. Nelly, Ellie… same thing,” you scoffed, your eyes still locked on the guy by the pool. “So I was saying…” Your voice dropped to a sultry whisper as you bit your lip, scanning him up and down, fingers gently tracing the contours of his strong arm. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, eyes shamelessly glued to your cleavage, never quite making it to your face.
“Dogs aren’t—” Ellie tried again, her voice a persistent drone in the background.
“Don’t forget my stuff,” you whispered in his ear. You batted your lashes at him as you pulled back, your gaze locking with his. Ellie’s disgusted glare darted between you and him, her lips pressed into a tight line.
“I won’t. See you later?” 
“Hmm-hmm. See you later, handsome.” Your voice was honey-sweet, dripping with fake affection, and the guy seemed utterly spellbound, his eyes never straying from your body.
Ellie huffed loudly, the sound almost lost in the noise of the poolside chatter, and you turned to face her, annoyance flashing across your features. You reached for the expensive sunglasses dangling from your bikini top and slid them on with practiced ease.
“Jesus, Ellen, got nothing better to do?” you grumbled, your tone laced with irritation and disdain.
“Dogs aren’t allowed,” Ellie repeated, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. She stood there, arms crossed, an immovable wall of resolve.
“Are you done? Because you’re starting to behave like a bot. Maybe hanging out with Alexa over there is rubbing off on you,” you sneered, turning your back on her with a dismissive wave. You strolled back to your friends, who were whispering among themselves, their eyes darting towards Ellie with thinly veiled amusement.
She turned away, ready to resume her duties, but your voice, dripping with venom, sliced through her ears.
“Have you seen her?” one of your friends giggled, their voice a conspiratorial whisper.
“She’s so embarrassing, oh my god,” another chimed in, their laughter bubbling up like champagne.
“Embarrassing is an understatement,” you commented without missing a beat, your voice carrying a sharp edge. 
Ellie could feel the sting of your words, each one like a tiny drop of acid, smoldering away her already fragile self-esteem. She knew your cruel comments spared no one, yet hurt still bloomed in her chest, a dull ache that refused to fade. You loosed a laugh, a sound that blended sweet melody with sinister intent, leaving her captivated and repulsed. The echoes of your laugh, mingled with the cruel whispers of your friends, reverberated in her mind, morphing into a haunting, chilling soundtrack to her nightmares as she made her way back to her busy friend behind the counter.
“How’d it go?” Alexis questioned, her voice tinged with genuine concern as she handed Ellie a cup of sweetened tea. The blonde girl's eyes roamed across Ellie's face, taking in the tense, almost pained expression that twisted her features, preparing herself for the worst. 
“Amazing,” Ellie responded with a hefty helping of sarcasm, quickly downing the drink. She then slumped onto a stool at the bar, her elbows roughly digging into the cold, unyielding surface of the marble counter.
The shorter girl behind the bar chuckled softly, her laughter a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. “You coming tonight?”
A look of perplexity etched on her face. The line marring her brow looked like a work of art that the blue-eyed friend couldn’t help but admire. “Coming where?”
“In your underwear—” Alexis deadpanned, before bursting into snorts of laughter at Ellie’s flushed cheeks, her reaction priceless. “To the party,” The silken strands of hair framing her face bounced as she spoke more seriously, her hands deftly collecting cups left by the sink, preparing to give them a proper wash.
“Party?”
“The whole staff is invited,” the blonde explained, her voice a melodic mix of excitement and mischief. “But no annoying kids around; The Bitch said we can use the pool.” Ellie couldn’t help but let out a small, crooked smile of her own at the name her friend had bestowed upon you. “You should come, Ellie. It’ll be fun,” Her voice was full of genuine enthusiasm as she scrubbed the cups with vigor, the water splashing slightly.
The redhead shrugged, still feeling the sting of your earlier words. “I don’t know, Lex. I’m not really in the mood.” Truth was that she didn’t want to spend a second more around you, especially outside work.
Alexis paused, her hands resting on the edge of the sink, eyes locking onto her friend’s. “Hey, don’t let her get to you. She’s just... Well, you know how she is. Come to the party, have some fun.”
She sighed again, the tension slowly easing from her shoulders. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Atta girl,” she grinned, resuming her task with renewed energy. “Trust me, you’ll feel better after a few drinks and a good swim.”
Ellie chuckled softly, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. Maybe Alexis was right. Maybe a night of fun was exactly what she needed to shake off the day’s negativity. The thought of the party, with its promise of laughter and freedom, was a small but welcome spark of light in the otherwise dark cloud of her thoughts. She sure as hell wasn’t going to let you ruin her day.
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4th of July, The evening.
Ellie despised parties and loathed crowds even more, as they left her feeling left out and isolated in an unfamiliar environment. She longed to escape back to the comfort of her home, but that choice was unfortunately not an option for her tonight. The pale girl ended up giving in because of Dina and Alexis, who insisted so much that Ellie finally relented. She was almost physically dragged to the same pool where she worked, but this time for a different reason. It was to have fun and actually enjoy the pool, something she rarely did.
The pool was enormous, the kind that looked like only the wealthy could access, but luckily, it wasn’t expensive to spend a weekend there. The pool area was beautifully maintained, with lush greenery and elegant lounge chairs neatly arranged around the perimeter. It was a stark contrast to Ellie’s usual experience of scanning the water for trouble and scolding unruly kids.
She was almost happy to be there to enjoy some fresh air and lounge by the pool instead of acting like a barista and waitress—a job she had not signed up for. The redhead took a deep breath, feeling the warm sun on her skin, watching the water sparkle under the midday sun, inviting and cool. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The air was filled with the scent of sunscreen and chlorine, a familiar but somehow more pleasant combination today.
The group of friends settled into their lounge chairs, and Ellie let herself relax, her freckled shoulders sinking into the cushioned seat. For once, she didn’t have to worry about keeping an eye on everyone. She could just be a regular person enjoying a day by the pool.
The afternoon slowly turned to evening as the group passed around drinks and joints, creating a relaxed atmosphere. Ellie sat at the pool's edge, letting her feet dangle in the cool water, engrossed in a lively conversation with Dina and Alexis, who were seated beside her. The setting sun painted the sky with a golden hue, casting a warm glow over them. 
She had only taken a few hits off her joint, and already, she couldn’t focus on anything but your thighs. The way those shorts hugged your hips and left the soft skin of your thighs exposed for everyone to see was simply captivating. They looked as soft as silk. You wore nothing on top but a black bikini, your crop top on one of the empty lounge chairs nearby. 
All noise—the incessant chattering of her friends and random people you had invited—faded into the background. You were the only thing that mattered. The way you moved, talked, and gave that stupid jerk sitting by your side a charming grin that surely made him believe he somehow stood a chance drove Ellie crazy. 
What a dick, she thought to herself. 
Ellie’s friends continued to talk and laugh, oblivious to her inner turmoil. Her eyes flickered to her friends and then back to you. You passed a joint to Ryan, who took it eagerly, his eyes glued to your face for once.
It was as clear as day that Ryan wanted to fuck you right there and then. Ellie recognized the look in his eyes; it was the same one she had whenever she looked at you—or so Dina claimed. But you were so hypnotizing. The way your plush wet lips wrapped around the joint, taking big hits like it was nothing—no coughing, no hesitation. It wasn’t your first time.
Ellie observed the brown-eyed boy attentively, almost maniacally, noting how his eyes never left your tits. And how you didn’t seem to mind. You almost seemed at ease with the knowledge of being liked, desired. That also meant free weed for everyone. She watched you laugh, the sound like a siren call that cut through the buzz around her. The besotten girl couldn't tear her eyes away from the way your hair fell over your shoulders, catching the last light of the setting sun, giving you an almost angelic glow. You seemed so comfortable, so effortlessly part of this world of social interactions and causal flirtations. You wore your confidence like a second skin, and Ellie found herself drawn to it, like a moth who gravitated towards danger without second thought.
Seeing Ryan, who sat next to you, soaking up your attention, caused a pang of jealousy to hit Ellie. She longed to be the person who held all of your attention, but instead, she was just an outsider looking in. 
The evening air grew cooler, but Ellie hardly noticed, her focus remained solely fixed on you. The world around her seemed to blur, and all she could see was the curve of your lips, the softness of your skin, the sparkle in your eyes. She took another drag from her joint, trying to calm her racing heart. The weed did little to dull her intense focus on you. If anything, it sharpened her awareness of every detail, every movement. Although she yearned to be closer to you, she knew it was never going to happen, not even in a million years, and this awareness only fueled her inability to look away. So, all she could do was watch, caught in the spell you had casted over her against her will.
Ellie felt her throat go dry, as if suddenly all the water on the planet had evaporated, leaving her parched. It was only when Alexis nudged her that she snapped out of her trance, her red, half-lidded eyes refocusing on the blonde girl beside her. Alexis was too close, causing Ellie to shift uncomfortably, creating some distance.
Why was she focusing on you anyway? Alexis had been by her side the whole night, trying to talk to her and being overall extremely nice. But for some reason, it felt like getting a taste of something that was missing salt; it was flavorless. Alexis was sweet and nice—they even liked the same things, for God’s sake. A girl who liked the same comics as her? It was almost a canon event. But, of course, fate had other plans for Ellie because she wasn’t interested in Alexis. In fact, she found her presence almost… annoying. She mentally kicked herself for even thinking of Alexis that way. She was such a kind girl, just trying to be friends—maybe more—but Ellie couldn’t care less.
She knew it was ridiculous, this unrequited fascination with you. Yet, she couldn’t help herself. You were like a star, dazzling and distant, while Alexis, kind and warm, was like a candle—close and comforting but not enough to hold Ellie’s attention.
Ellie wanted to desperately feel something for Alexis, to reciprocate her kindness and interest, but it felt forced. She sighed, running a hand through her messy auburn hair. It was in moments like these she realized how messed up she was for always chasing people who couldn’t care less about her. She felt a pang of guilt for not appreciating Alexis, who was right there, trying her best to connect while her thoughts constantly drifted back to you. You were like a magnet, pulling her attention away from everything and everyone else.
She couldn't exactly recall how they all ended up disgustingly high, sitting in a circle and playing a stupid game of truth or dare like high schoolers. It was such a childish game, but here they were. Her eyes were fixed on the bottle as if her life depended on it, and when it landed on you, she started praying in every language she knew—though her repertoire was limited to English, and she didn't even know how to pray.
The auburnette had never been particularly religious; she didn’t even believe in luck or fate. She wasn’t sure what she believed in, preferring things she could see, things that were scientifically proven. So she didn’t know what the hell she was doing, always praying and hoping that you’d talk to her, act differently, maybe even like her. You were just you, and no amount of mental manifestation seemed enough for you to actually see her.
It was bullshit. It was even more bullshit when the bottle landed on that stupid guy who had been thirsting over you the entire night, practically drooling over your body. Ellie couldn’t look away, not even when the kiss turned into a full-blown make-out session right in front of everyone—right in front of her. His callous and hungry hands pulled you close, letting them roam over your body, your ass, your waist, while you wrapped your arms around his neck.
The sight of his hands exploring your body, of your lips moving against his with such abandon, was almost too much to bear. The green-eyed girl glanced around the circle, noting the mix of reactions—some amused, some awkwardly averting their gaze. But Ellie’s eyes were drawn back to you, unable to tear herself away from the sight of your bodies intertwined. His hands caressed the bare skin of your back, and Ellie felt a pang of envy so sharp it was almost physical. The makeout session seemed to stretch on forever, and once it was over, it kept replaying like a broken record in her sick mind, an agonizing reminder of what she couldn’t have. 
The green bottle spun on the mosaic again and again, its movements blending into a rapid blur on the floor. Ellie sat there, though completely absent; she felt as if she were a million miles away, her surroundings slowly fading into an enveloping fog, the Silent Hill kind.
Jesse nudged her gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts in a friendly but insistent manner. “Dude, you with us?” His words jolted her back to reality, piercing through the haze that had enveloped her mind. She blinked, her eyes snapping to his dark chocolate pools.
Following his gaze to the floor, her eyes landed on the bottle, its neck pointing directly at her. A fleeting moment of surprise flickered across her face, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she was the chosen one.
The word “Dare” burst out of her mouth before she could even process what she was saying. Immediately, she regretted it; the cinnamon-haired girl wasn’t exactly as gutsy as she sometimes pretended to be. 
And as fate would have it, the bottle’s spin ended on the very person she least wanted it to. Alexis.
Her scarred eyebrows pinched together in a disappointed frown, an unexpected dryness creeping into her mouth. With sluggish movements that felt almost like wading through molasses, Ellie slowly turned to face the girl beside her, the moonlight casting a soft glow over her blonde locks. Alexis's eyes sparkled with mischief, her lips curving into a wide grin as she scooted closer. Ellie remained rooted to her spot, frozen in place, unable to bring herself to move.
Ellie failed to notice that your gaze, as cold and piercing as ice, was fixed on her with persistent intensity. Your eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of annoyance shadowing your features. 
Both girls knelt face to face, and Alexis quickly placed her hand on her waist and leaned in eagerly for a kiss. However, just as their lips met, Ellie pulled away and gave her just a gentle peck. A collective boooo rang out from the surrounding crowd, expressing their disapproval at the briefness of the kiss.
Their eyes met, Alexis' blue eyes locking with hers, holding a hint of confusion. The group around them kept urging them to kiss properly, their voices chanting and encouraging them to go further. When her gaze shifted to the crowd, Ellie's gaze inadvertently locked with yours for a moment. Your eyes were fixated on her with a harsh, almost murderous glare, as if you wanted to rip her apart that very instant.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss,”
“Ohhh come on! We want a proper kiss!”
“I love lesbian porn.”
“Is lesbian porn even real?”
When Ellie broke eye contact and turned back to the golden-haired girl before her, she saw a look of remorse plastered on her face, as if she feared she had crossed a boundary. “We don't have-” But before she could finish her sentence, Ellie silenced her by pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. Hovering over her, she gripped her by the waist, pulling her closer. Despite her efforts, though, kissing her felt almost nausea-inducing.
You didn't look away. Every second of Ellie and Alexis’ kiss was captured in the harsh, judgmental glare of your eyes. There was something almost perverse in how you watched, a blend of disgust and fascination twisting your expression. Ellie remained completely unaware of your intense observation, failing to notice the envy in your gaze and the deep-seated jealousy that gripped your stomach. Even if the redhead had detected your jealousy, she would have dismissed it as sheer animosity, failing to recognize the depth of your emotions. Just like she always did.
As the kiss ended, a huge, dumbstruck grin spread across her friend’s face, her eyes sparkling with joy like the myriad stars above them. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was slightly out of breath, clearly enjoying the moment. Ellie, on the other hand, had a look of regret and shock on her face, almost as if she was questioning every decision she had ever made in her life, a look that the blonde didn’t seem to catch on.
Ellie found it increasingly difficult to focus on the mindless dares and ridiculous questions being thrown around, her brain enveloped in a cloud of weed-induced haze. The substance in her system had relaxed her muscles to the extent that she felt like she was constantly on the verge of having an ‘accident.’
“I feel like I’m gonna piss myself—Did I piss myself?” Ellie mumbled softly into Dina’s ear, her words barely audible. Dina's dark eyes darted toward her friend’s lap, discreetly scanning for any signs of wet spots on her shorts, but there was nothing. In response, she shook her head while offering Ellie a small, sympathetic shrug and a lopsided smile that conveyed reassurance, her sleek ponytail swaying gracefully with the movement.
“You’re good,” her speech was slightly slurred, her words stumbling over each other as if she was struggling to articulate.
“Feels like my bladder gave up on me,” she grumbled, the damp spot in her boxers growing increasingly irritating. She harbored an unstoppable belief that she had, in fact, peed herself. The thought was persistent, a nagging paranoia that refused to go away no matter how much her friend had reassured her otherwise.
Dina’s perfectly shaped arches furrowed as she attempted to make sense of Ellie's slowed-down speech. The combination of alcohol and weed was a little too much for Dina to handle, as she struggled to comprehend what Ellie was saying. Thankfully, her boyfriend, who was much more sober, was there to keep a watchful eye on her. “Why aren’t you wearing a diaper?” she casually inquired, as if the redhead sitting beside her had worn them before.
“Uh, no? Why would I?” Ellie mimicked Dina’s confused expression.
“Don’t you, usually?” Her face was a portrait of genuine puzzlement.
Her auburn eyebrows drew together in puzzled bewilderment as she mulled over Dina’s query for a second or two, as if she didn’t quite know the answer herself. She started to respond, “Isn’t it too soon t—” but her words trailed off, replaced by an exasperated sigh. “Be right back,” she whispered, realizing it was futile to try talking to her friend, who was as high as gas prices.
The haze of weed and alcohol made everything feel surreal, like she was wading through a thick fog. Ellie’s mind was a chaotic mess, each thought bumping into the next. She stood up, her surroundings swaying slightly as she made her way to the back of the bar, walking around it. Even though she had worked there for quite some time and had likely been aware of the door behind the counters that led to the back of the building all along, she still decided to act like a mindless artificial intelligence bot instead. 
You watched Ellie attentively, your eyes trailing her every move. The perfect excuse to get up from the circle was getting more beer. Ryan, ever eager, immediately offered to help, seizing the opportunity to be alone with you. 
But God, who the fuck wanted his disgusting hands all over you?
Ryan was a means to an end, nothing more. You needed him for the weed, and you planned to ghost him the second you didn’t need him anymore. Weed was weed, and you’d do anything for free joints, spinning promises you had no intention of keeping. But guilt? That was a foreign concept to you. Playing people was your specialty: using them, manipulating them, treating men like him like obedient, panting pups. They were so eager, so desperate for your attention, that they'd leap at the chance to please you, dancing to your every whim. You took delight in their stupidity, toying with them to your liking. It was all fun until you got bored; then you’d dump them without a second thought, leaving them to wonder what they did wrong. 
They were all the same. No one ever stood out to you; each encounter a cold calculation. Men like Ryan were just pawns, easily replaceable, utterly expendable, tools to be used and discarded. You enjoyed the control, how they bent to your will, the thrill of watching them scramble for your approval.
Your mind, slightly hazy from the weed and alcohol, felt both razor-sharp and wonderfully numb. You didn’t exactly know what you were thinking as your hand hovered hesitantly over the doorknob leading to the back of the bar. You looked over your shoulder to ensure no one saw you slip through the door.
You stepped out just as Ellie stumbled out of the bathroom, her movements faltering briefly when she laid eyes on you. While in the bathroom, she realized that she wasn’t going to piss herself; she was just fucking horny from all the weed she had smoked—it always had that effect on her—and seeing you made the effects even worse. Her green eyes widened for a moment, resembling a cat's eyes caught in the headlights rather than those of a deer. However, she swiftly recomposed herself, continuing to walk without acknowledging your presence. As if you didn't exist, as if she couldn't see you.
“Hey,” You called out, your voice cutting through the damp night air, but Ellie ignored you. Her steps quickened as she walked past you, her gaze fixed ahead as if you were a mere ghost haunting her path. Conversations between you two had never been normal. She was high as hell and enjoying herself for once; the last thing she wanted was another night ruined by your incessant arguing and your inability to grasp the concept of kindness. With determined steps, Ellie headed for the door that led inside the bar, your eyes lingering on the intricate tattoo on her forearm, which reached for the handle with purpose.
Just as Ellie’s fingers glided over the cold metal, your hand grasped her other arm forcefully, the strength surprising even yourself. With a sudden, harsh move, you slammed her against the wall. “What the fuu-” she cursed under her breath as she flinched at the sudden impact of her back against the brick wall, but you abruptly silenced her. You detested being ignored more than anything else. You were accustomed to always receiving attention, with people hanging on your every word and making you the focus of their world. The sensation of being ignored felt completely alien to you.
“I said hey,” You repeated, this time your voice was harsher. Ellie’s eyes, a mesmerizing shade of green, seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, resembling glistening emeralds. Her dilated pupils looked like deep black voids that threatened to swallow you whole. Despite the visible signs of confusion and irritation on her face, an unmistakable sense of intrigue emanated from her, one that didn't go unnoticed by you, and a sly smirk played at the corner of your lips in response.
“Yeah, I’ve heard you.” She retorted, annoyed and sarcastic, though her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper.
“Yeah? Didn’t seem like it,” you quipped, flashing a mischievous smile as you leaned closer, effectively trapping her against the wall. Your body hovered over hers, your arm positioned menacingly next to her head, the gap between you growing increasingly smaller. Ellie felt a lump form in her throat as she swallowed nervously, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of her chest. Her hands trembled at the sudden proximity, and her breath caught in her throat. She leaned against the wall, her body flattened as if trying to put as much space as she could between the two of you by melding into it. The distance between you had never been this small, your body practically looming over hers, encasing her against the wall. Her mind spun as your scent filled her nostrils, a dizzying mix of musk and something else that drove her insane; pheromones, perhaps? “What, you ignoring me now?” 
“No, ‘m no-”
“Yes, you are,” Your intense gaze made her skin tingle, as if deciphering her every thought and emotion swirling in her mind, “Don’t you wanna talk to me?” Your voice took on an innocent, almost petulant tone as you pouted, sticking out your lower lip and batting your eyelashes at her. 
The dim light cast long shadows, dancing across the rough brick wall. The scent of sweat, alcohol, weed, and something else—something electric—filled the space between you. 
“I don’t wanna argue,” the aburnette immediately replied, sighing as if to release the tension that had been building up in her system only due to your closeness. It was crazy how much power you had over her despite her trying to convince herself that she despised you because of your ugly attitude.
“Oh, baby, I don't wanna fight either.” Ellie's heart raced as she struggled to process the pet name that effortlessly rolled off your tongue. Her eyes frantically scanned her surroundings, longing for an exit that simply wasn't there. She could have easily distanced herself from you, pushed you away even, but she found herself drawn to the attention and the intimacy, both captivated and unsettled by the closeness. The warmth emanating from your body enveloped her, and the sheer force of your presence overwhelmed her senses. As her pulse quickened, the rhythm of each beat echoed loudly in her ears. Just as Ellie started to gather her thoughts, you gently lifted her chin, compelling her to meet your gaze. A delicate auburn strand of hair fell across her face, “Did you like it?” you suddenly interrogated her, reaching out to gently tuck the stray strand behind her ear.
“Like what?” she questioned back, her brow furrowed in confusion. Her voice sounded weak, and you could sense how your words made her feel small, even though it had nothing to do with height.
“The kiss—is she a good kisser?” your gaze fixed on her lips as your thumb traced a gentle path over her bottom lip.
Ellie let out a disapproving tsk as she pulled her face out of your grasp, causing your hand to drop limply to your side. “Why do you care?” Her question prompted you to glance back into her eyes. She was surprised by the intense yet gentle expression on your face. For once, you weren’t shouting at her, teasing her, or being a bitch.
“‘Cause I think you could do so much better,”
She couldn't fathom the words you were speaking or understand why you were studying her every detail as if inspecting a precious work of art, gazing at her as if she were a masterpiece rather than an inferior being. It made the freckled girl’s stomach twist with excitement and nervousness. A blush crept across her star-speckled cheeks as your eyes found their way back to her lips, and she unconsciously ran her tongue over them. It was at that moment that you leaned in, pressing your plump lips against hers in a hungry, demanding kiss.
As your lips met hers, Ellie felt like she was about to dissolve into a puddle. The texture of your lips was indescribably soft, almost as if they were crafted specifically for her. Initially, she was too stunned to reciprocate the kiss; her eyes widened in shock, resembling those of a startled cat thrown in a bathtub. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, it felt as though her heart had ceased to beat; she was certain that if a doctor had measured her pulse at that instant, they would have deemed her deceased.
It took her a few moments to process the reality of the situation. The girl she had been pining over for ages—and that also made her life miserable—was kissing her. She couldn't be certain whether it was the effect of the weed she had consumed—perhaps she had blacked out in the bathroom, and all of this was simply a figment of her imagination—but as soon as Ellie felt your gentle hands drawing her in closer by the waist, she was certain that it was all too real.
She could feel your heartbeat, the heat emanating off your skin, your lips moving against hers. It was like stepping into a new world where everything was heightened and vivid. Your lips, soft and inviting, moved with a grace that left the green-eyed girl breathless. She felt like she was floating, untethered from reality, anchored only by the warmth of your touch. It felt right.
Ellie’s mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frenzy of disbelief and euphoria. How could this be happening? She had spent countless nights dreaming of this moment, and now it was unfolding before her.
Slowly, Ellie’s initial shock faded away, replaced by a surge of boldness. She began to kiss you back, tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence. Her pale hands gripped your face, pulling you impossibly closer, their touch greedy and desperate. She tried to push you off, to reverse the roles, but you pushed her right back against the wall, pinning her in place. Both of you craved control, the conflict only adding to the intensity of your interactions. Neither of you was willing to give up easily, the power play making everything so intoxicating. Ellie sought to put you in your place, to dominate you for once, while you had another fantasy in mind—to see her writhing and squirming under your touch, completely submitted to you. 
Her kisses were fierce and hungry, as if she hadn't tasted anything in days, and you were her first meal. Your lips muffled every delightful sound that escaped her, only serving to make you smile. Her hands tugged at any piece of fabric they could reach—the loops of your shorts, the laces of your bikini—as if trying to bring you even closer. She wanted you desperately, and you knew it. 
You had always known. When you weren't looking, Ellie had been looking. Her fern-green gaze would devour your exposed skin at the pool, filled with an intensity that could not be ignored.
The confirmation that it wasn't just a one-sided desire made you feel all giddy. From the moment she had accidentally bumped into you on the first day of college, you had wanted her. When summer approached and the prospect of more time away from your judgmental friends became a reality, you saw an opportunity. You asked Dina to help recruit more employees, promising her a slight raise in pay. Despite the plan being less than fool-proof and unlikely to succeed, it somehow unfolded exactly how you hoped it would.
Ellie’s breaths came in ragged gasps between the kisses, each one deepening the connection, fueling the fire between you. You could feel her trembling, the tension in her body creating a delightful contrast with the softness of her skin under your touch. Your hands traced the contours of her waist and the subtle dip of her back. Each touch sent a shiver through her, her body responding to your every caress as if it had been waiting for this moment, craving your touch. Her hands emulated your movements, exploring every inch of your body as if she were attempting to commit each curve and line to memory.
You pressed your thigh between her legs, and you swore you could feel the heat of her cunt through the fabric. Ellie’s response was immediate, a moan that vibrated against your mouth as her hips rocked against you in an involuntary, desperate attempt to find friction. The feminine urge to push her further, to test her limits, to make her beg for more almost overwhelmed you.
But Ellie refused to surrender, kissing you harder, more urgently, trying to take control. Her hands found their way to your hair, pulling you closer, her nails slightly scraping your scalp in a way that was both painful and pleasurable, eliciting a moan from you. But you stood your ground, pushing back, your hands gripping her hips tightly, keeping her in place.
You broke the kiss to trail your lips along her jawline and neck, the movement eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her. She leaned her head back against the wall, breathing heavily and unevenly as your hand slipped beneath her white T-shirt. You felt the muscles of her abdomen contract under your touch.
You were almost certain you had never seen her with her shirt off, not even when she was working. She always wore T-shirts and those red, men's style swim trunks when working. Perhaps you had caught a glimpse of her in a sports bra a time or two, but certainly never any more than that. You couldn't understand why Ellie hid so much. If only she could see herself; she was legitimately beautiful, her body toned and strong. But you could never tell under those slightly baggy shirts she always wore. 
Your hand pulled the hem of her shirt up to expose her abdomen as you knelt down, your mouth moving over her stomach, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin, eliciting exaggerated gasps and shudders from her, as if her body had never received the right attention before. 
But as your fingers grazed the waistband of her cargo pants, Ellie suddenly snapped out of her trance, realizing that you were out in the open and at risk of being caught. Her hand pressed against your shoulder, trying to push you away and stop you. You looked up at her, meeting her gaze, her eyes wide and dark and her pupils dilated with desire and tinged with fear. 
“W-we can’t, not here,” Her voice trembled as she spoke, barely above a whisper. Your head tilted, your eyes wide and innocent, your lashes almost touching your brows. Disappointment etched itself across your face, your forehead wrinkled in a frown so adorable that it made it even more difficult for her to deny you. Your expression conveyed a sense of need, of vulnerability, like you were completely dependent on her and needed her. It tugged at Ellie’s heartstrings, making her want to give in immediately.
“No one will see us,” You tried to reassure her, your fingers toying with the waistband of her shorts, but she intercepted your hands, stopping you once more. You huffed in frustration, your gaze flickering to the restroom on your left, then back to her face, hoping she would catch the hint. 
Several minutes later, Ellie found herself perched on the toilet seat, legs spread wide with you kneeling in front of her. The white fabric of her shirt was trapped between her teeth, her desperate attempt to muffle her soft moans proving futile. Ellie’s cheeks were flushed, and the scattered freckles that dusted her damp skin stood out vividly against the pink hue. Her brows were scrunched in pleasure and concentration; her eyes rolled to the back of her cranium before squeezing them shut, trying to chase her third orgasm already.
The sight of Ellie’s sports bra peeking from underneath her shirt and her tensed, toned abs had you drooling all over her pussy. You stared at the aburn-haired girl almost in a trance, captivated by her body as if she were your muse. Her abs were like a sculptor’s masterpiece. Your eyes traced the outline of her bra, the way it clung to her, wishing you could take it off, but you were too impatient to feel her cumming in your mouth again to do that, and you sure as hell weren't going to pull away. Maybe another time.
You could sense every fiber of her being, her body speaking a language you were fluent in that told you exactly what she craved. Your tongue, a delicate pink ribbon, traced her sopping slit with deliberate care, teasing, tasting, before zeroing in on that needy bundle of nerves that demanded your attention, a stifled whine escaping her mouth. Her moans grew louder, each one urging you on.
You devoured Ellie’s saccharine essence like a starved beast, your eyes locked onto her with the intensity of a tiger stalking its prey. Her expressions, a symphony of pleasure and desperation, were a masterpiece you couldn't look away from, your gaze drinking in every nuance of her expression, reveling in her artistry. And it was all for you. The mere thought of that made your cunt twitch in your bikini, which was now completely soaked; its sleek black fabric covered by translucent honey—not for everyone to see.
You danced between flicks of your tongue and alternating gentle, then demanding sucks. Ellie’s clit pulsed wildly in your mouth, her juices anointing your chin like a sacred nectar. She was the best thing you had ever had, not that you would ever admit it out loud to her.
Ellie’s moans were music to your ears, fucking divine, a soundtrack that was most likely going to play at the back of your mind while pleasuring yourself later on whenever you'd go back home. One of her thighs draped over your shoulder, her leg a soft but firm anchor as you wrapped your arm under the other, pulling her closer. Her taste, her very essence, was all-consuming, and you couldn’t get enough. 
Ellie’s teeth finally released the white fabric of her shirt, allowing it to fall back over her toned stomach, her lips swollen and a dazed look in her eyes. “G’na... fuuuuck…” she stammered, the words tumbling out in a deliciously incoherent mix of pleasure and haze, her mind too foggy to form a coherent thought. Ellie was completely lost in every flick of your tongue and every hungry suck on her swollen clit. 
You smirked against her, slapping the side of her thigh harshly, right over the pink imprint of your hand already etched into her skin. The sting made her whimper and jerk away from your mouth, but your grip on her thigh brought her back where she belonged. You had made a mess of the green-eyed girl, and stopping was the last thing on your mind, especially with her third orgasm looming. 
You were just getting started.
You hummed into her, the vibrations drawing little gasps from Ellie's mouth. You didn't stop. Even when her body couldn't take it anymore and silently pleaded for you to let go, you kept going, taking everything you could from her. Your tongue and lips were relentless, sucking harshly as she squirmed on the white toilet seat, trying weakly to push you away. Her hand at the top of your head was a feeble attempt to escape and move you away from her core, slow you down perhaps, but you didn't budge.
Ellie cried out, her voice breaking into whines as if she were on the verge of tears, your relentless moans against her clit only pushing her further. Despite her desperate warnings that she couldn’t take any more, you didn't stop until a warm flush sprayed against your face, making you pull away instinctively.
The thunderous booms and crackles of the fireworks outside were deafening, drowning out her loud cries and whimpers. Each burst of color and light in the sky timed up perfectly with the waves of ecstasy coursing through her body.
Ellie’s body trembled, her muscles twitching in the aftermath. You looked up at her, eyes glazed with satisfaction, licking your lips and savoring her taste. She was a beautiful wreck, panting heavily, her chest heaving with each breath.
“Did you just—” You glanced down at the glistening pool of her juices on the bathroom floor, eyes lingering on the sight for a moment before looking back up at her. Her cheeks were flushed a deep, rosy red, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She exhaled shakily, the color on her face intensifying as embarrassment crept in. 
The thin layer of sweat on Ellie’s forehead caused her baby hairs to cling to her skin, sticking to the sides of her face. You pulled back, running the back of your hand over your mouth and chin, wiping away the slick evidence from your face. 
“Yeah,” she gasped, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.
“Didn’t think you were a squirter,” you snorted, your hand coming up to gently stroke her thigh as she sat up on the toilet seat.
“Me neither,” Ellie admitted, her response causing your eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. A sense of satisfaction and pride filled your chest, knowing you were the one who had drawn that intense orgasm from her. As your eyes met, a giggle of contentment escaped your lips.
But the intimacy was suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Both of you tensed up, eyes widening in alarm at the unexpected disturbance.
“Ellie? You in there?” Dina's voice cut through the heavy atmosphere, her once-slurred words sounding slightly more coherent, likely due to Jesse's intervention in getting her to sober up. The sound of her words was a sudden disturbance, like a splash of cold water that jerked you and Ellie back to reality. You exchanged a hesitant look, both of you struggling to collect yourselves and regain composure
She hastily put her boxers and pants back on, scrambling to get dressed and compose herself. “Yeah, just give me a minute,” she called out hurriedly to Dina, her heart still racing from the recent encounter and the fear of getting caught.
Dina's voice sounded more concerned now, the sound of her trying to open the door sending a jolt of panic through Ellie. “Everything okay?” she asked. “Jesse and I are about to leave.”
“Yeah, shit,” Ellie muttered curses under her breath as you helped her tidy up, both of you scrambling to look presentable. She darted to the sink to clean her face, her voice trembling with nervousness as she lied to Dina, cursing the weed and blaming it for her nausea. Meanwhile, Dina stood outside the bathroom, her ear pressed against the door as she listened intently to the movement and sounds coming from inside.
She tried to open the door again, her interest piqued by the sounds of whispering and rustling coming from inside. “You okay?” she pried. The doorknob rattled loudly, but fortunately, you had secured the door earlier, preventing any potential intrusion. “Need me to come in?”
Ellie’s response was hurried and slightly panicked as she said, “No, no! I’m good, I’m good.” A short while later, the door opened, and a slightly disheveled Ellie emerged with a wide smile, approaching Dina, who looked puzzled and somewhat intoxicated. With her arms crossed, Dina scrutinized her best friend’s appearance, struggling to form a coherent thought.
“Are you okay?” the honey-eyed girl inquired, giving Ellie a once-over and attempting to peek behind her. But she promptly blocked her path.
“I’m feeling fantastic,” Ellie exclaimed with a wide grin, breezing past Dina and narrowly avoiding a collision as she gently guided her away from the doorway. With a quick flick of her wrist, she securely locked the door behind her. “Are you all set to head out?” she asked eagerly, striding off as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, trying to leave the situation behind her.
You heard Dina's footsteps fading into the summer night alive with the sounds of crickets, fireworks, and distant laughter; you let out a long, deep sigh of relief, feeling the cool tiles against your bare back, gradually easing away the tension and anxiety that had built up. 
As you stepped out of the bathroom, the bar’s dim lighting and background chatter enveloped you once more. You spotted Ellie and Dina near the exit, Dina’s arm around Ellie’s shoulders as they prepared to leave. Ellie glanced back at you, a secretive smile playing on her lips, and you knew that this night had changed everything.
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pucksandpower · 1 month
Text
Until Next Time
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)
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Mycenae, 1208 BC
The sun beats down mercilessly on the marble steps of the temple. You stand at the top, your white chiton billowing in the warm breeze. Your eyes scan the crowd gathered below, searching for one face among the sea of onlookers.
“Where is he?” You whisper, your heart pounding.
A firm hand grips your shoulder. “It’s time, princess,” your father’s voice rumbles behind you.
You turn to face him, eyes pleading. “Father, please. This can’t be the only way.”
The king’s face is a mask of stone, but his eyes betray a flicker of sorrow. “The gods have spoken. We must obey.”
As he speaks, a commotion erupts at the base of the temple steps. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot Max pushing through the crowd, his face contorted with desperation.
“No!” He shouts, his voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd. “You can’t do this!”
Two guards grab him, restraining his arms as he struggles against their grip.
“Let me go!” Max yells, his eyes locking with yours. “She’s innocent! Take me instead!”
You start to move towards him, but your father’s grip tightens. “Don’t,” he warns.
“Max,” you call out, your voice breaking. “It’s okay. This is my duty.”
Max shakes his head violently. “No, it’s not! This is madness!”
The high priest approaches, his ornate robes rustling as he walks. “The sacrifice must be made,” he intones. “The gods demand it.”
You feel a chill run down your spine despite the heat. The priest’s eyes are cold as he regards you.
“Please,” Max begs, still struggling against the guards. “There has to be another way. Let me speak to the oracle. Maybe-”
“Silence!” The priest snaps. “The decision has been made. The princess will ensure a bountiful harvest for our people.”
You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Max, listen to me. I need you to be strong.”
His struggles subside slightly as he focuses on your words.
“Remember what we talked about?” You continue. “About the stars?”
Max’s brow furrows in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen in recognition. “The cycle,” he breathes.
You nod, forcing a smile. “This isn’t the end. We’ll find each other again. I promise.”
“No,” Max shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”
The priest clears his throat impatiently. “We must proceed.”
Your father gently guides you towards the altar. You resist the urge to look back at Max, knowing it will only make this harder.
“Wait!” Max calls out. “Just ... just let me say goodbye. Please.”
The king hesitates, then nods to the guards. They release Max, who rushes up the steps towards you.
He reaches you, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispers fiercely. “In this life and every life to come.”
You lean into his touch, memorizing the feeling of his skin against yours. “I love you too. Always.”
Max’s lips crash into yours, desperate and salty with tears. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.
Then rough hands are pulling you apart. Max struggles, but the guards drag him back down the steps.
“No!” He roars. “You can’t do this! She’s everything to me!”
You force yourself to look away, focusing on the altar before you. The priest approaches, a gleaming dagger in his hand.
“Oh great gods,” he begins to chant. “Accept this offering and bless our lands.”
You close your eyes, trying to block out Max’s anguished cries. You think of stars, of cycles, of promises of reunion.
The dagger plunges, and pain explodes through your body. As darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, you hear Max’s voice, raw with grief.
“I’ll find you,” he vows. “In the next life, and the next, and the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”
As your consciousness fades, you cling to that promise. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It’s just the beginning of a much longer story.
Your last thought before the world goes black is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and determination. Somehow, you know that this is not goodbye — it’s just until next time.
London, 1542
The heavy oak door of your chambers creaks open, and you look up from your embroidery, heart leaping at the sight of Max slipping inside. His eyes dart nervously around the room before settling on you.
“My lady,” he whispers urgently, crossing the room in quick strides. “We must speak.”
You set aside your needlework, rising to meet him. “What is it? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
He takes your hands in his, his touch sending a familiar thrill through you despite the gravity in his expression. “It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. I’ve heard whispers in the court ...”
Your breath catches. “What kind of whispers?”
Max’s jaw clenches. “Accusations. Terrible ones. They’re saying you’ve been unfaithful to the king.”
You gasp, shaking your head vehemently. “That’s absurd! I would never-”
“I know,” Max interrupts, squeezing your hands. “But the truth matters little when it comes to Henry’s jealousy. You know how he is.”
A chill runs down your spine as you remember the fate of the king’s previous wives. “What am I to do?”
Max’s eyes blaze with determination. “We’ll run away. Tonight. I have friends who can help us reach the coast. From there, we can sail to France or-”
The sound of heavy footsteps in the corridor cuts him off. You both freeze, staring at the door in mounting dread.
“Quick,” you hiss, pushing Max towards a tapestry-covered alcove. “Hide!”
He resists for a moment. “I won’t leave you-”
“You must,” you insist. “If they find you here, it will only make things worse.”
Reluctantly, Max ducks behind the tapestry just as the door bursts open. The king’s guards pour in, led by Thomas Cromwell himself.
“My lady,” Cromwell says with a cold smile. “I’m afraid you must come with us.”
You lift your chin, summoning every ounce of royal dignity. “On what grounds, Lord Cromwell?”
His smile doesn’t waver. “Treason, my lady. His Majesty has evidence of your ... indiscretions.”
“That’s impossible,” you protest. “I’ve been nothing but faithful to the king.”
Cromwell gestures to the guards. “Search the room. Thoroughly.”
Your heart pounds as they begin tearing through your belongings. You silently pray that Max remains hidden and undetected.
“This is outrageous,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I demand to speak to the king himself.”
“His Majesty has no desire to see you,” Cromwell replies. “The evidence speaks for itself.”
One of the guards approaches, holding a folded piece of parchment. “My lord, we found this hidden in her jewelry box.”
Cromwell snatches it, his eyes scanning the contents. His smirk widens. “Well, well. A love letter, it seems. Quite damning, wouldn’t you agree?”
You shake your head in disbelief. “That’s not mine. I’ve never seen it before!”
“A poor defense, my lady,” Cromwell tuts. “Come now, we mustn’t keep the Tower waiting.”
As the guards move to seize you, Max bursts from his hiding place. “Stop!” He shouts. “She’s innocent!”
Cromwell’s eyebrows raise in mock surprise. “And who might you be, young man?”
Max stands tall, his gaze unwavering. “I can vouch for the queen’s innocence.”
“Can you now?” Cromwell’s tone is dangerously soft. “And how, pray tell, would you know such a thing?”
You see the trap too late. “Max, don’t-”
But he’s already speaking. “Because I’ve been watching over her. Protecting her. I would know if she had been unfaithful.”
Cromwell’s eyes glitter with triumph. “Watching over her, you say? How ... intimate. Guards, seize him as well.”
“No!” You cry out as the guards grab Max. “He’s done nothing wrong!”
“On the contrary,” Cromwell replies. “He’s just confessed to an inappropriate relationship with the queen. That’s treason, my dear.”
Max struggles against the guards. “It’s not like that! I love her, yes, but we’ve never-”
“Enough!” Cromwell snaps. “Take them both to the Tower. His Majesty will decide their fate.”
As the guards drag you from the room, your eyes meet Max’s. In that moment, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve been here before, somehow. Torn apart by forces beyond your control.
“It’s happening again,” Max says softly, his eyes wide with realization.
You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “The cycle continues.”
“What are you two babbling about?” Cromwell demands.
Neither of you answer. What could you say that he would understand?
As you’re led through the winding corridors of the palace, Max’s voice carries to you. “I’ll find a way to save you. I swear it.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you call back, your voice catching.
“I kept the last one, didn’t I?” He replies. “I found you again.”
Memories flood your mind — hazy images of another life, another time. A temple, a sacrifice, a vow made in desperation.
“So you did,” you whisper.
The journey to the Tower passes in a blur. Before you know it, you’re being locked in a cold, damp cell. Through the small barred window, you can see the executioner’s block in the courtyard below.
Days pass. You pace your cell, alternating between fear and a strange sense of calm. This isn’t the end, you remind yourself. Somehow, you know it to be true.
When they come for you, you hold your head high. As you’re led to the block, you scan the crowd, searching for Max’s face. You spot him, restrained by guards, his face a mask of anguish.
“I love you,” he mouths.
“Until next time,” you reply silently.
As you kneel at the block, you close your eyes. You think of stars and cycles, of promises kept across lifetimes. The axe falls, and darkness descends.
Your last conscious thought is a mixture of sorrow and hope. This chapter may be ending, but your story with Max is far from over. In another time, another place, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, and the cycle continues.
Florence, 1633
The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across the cluttered study. You pace nervously, your skirts swishing against the worn floorboards. Max hunches over his desk, quill scratching furiously across parchment.
“Max,” you plead, “please reconsider. It’s not too late to recant.”
He looks up, his eyes bright with fervor. “I can’t, my love. The truth is too important.”
You move to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. “More important than your life?”
Max covers your hand with his, his touch warm and familiar. “Some truths are worth dying for.”
“And what about living for?” You counter. “What about us?”
He stands, pulling you into an embrace. “Everything I do, I do for us. For a world where we can live freely, without the shackles of ignorance.”
You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his scent of ink and parchment. “I fear those shackles are stronger than you think.”
A sharp knock at the door makes you both jump. Max moves to answer it, but you grab his arm.
“Don’t,” you whisper. “It could be them.”
Max’s jaw sets stubbornly. “If it is, hiding won’t change anything.”
He strides to the door and throws it open. A young man stands there, panting heavily.
“Master,” he gasps. “They’re coming. The Inquisition. You must flee!”
Max’s face pales, but his voice remains steady. “Thank you for the warning, Giovanni. You should go before they arrive.”
The young man nods and disappears into the night. Max turns to you, his expression grim.
“You should go too,” he says softly. “There’s no reason for both of us to face their wrath.”
You shake your head fiercely. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Please,” Max implores. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me.”
“And I couldn’t bear to abandon you,” you retort. “We’re in this together, remember?”
A ghost of a smile touches Max’s lips. “Always.”
You help him gather his most important papers and instruments, working quickly in the oppressive silence. As Max secures the last of his writings, you hear the ominous sound of marching feet approaching.
“It’s too late,” you breathe.
Max squares his shoulders. “Then we face them with dignity.”
The door bursts open, and armored men pour into the small study. At their head is Cardinal Bellarmine, his face a mask of righteous anger.
“Apostate,” he intones. “You stand accused of heresy against the Holy Church.”
Max steps forward, his voice calm. “I stand accused of seeking the truth, Your Eminence.”
The Cardinal’s eyes narrow. “You spread dangerous lies. You claim the Earth is not the center of God’s creation!”
“I claim only what the evidence suggests,” Max counters. “The movements of the heavens themselves tell us-”
“Blasphemy!” Bellarmine roars. “You would elevate your flawed observations above the word of God?”
You can’t stay silent any longer. “My lord Cardinal, surely God gave us minds to seek understanding. How can the pursuit of knowledge be heresy?”
Bellarmine’s gaze snaps to you. “And who is this who dares to question the Church’s judgment?”
Max steps protectively in front of you. “Leave her out of this. She’s done nothing wrong.”
“She defends a heretic,” the Cardinal sneers. “That alone is cause for suspicion.”
You feel a chill run down your spine, but you stand your ground. “I defend a good man who seeks only to understand the wonders of God’s creation.”
Bellarmine waves dismissively. “Take them both. We’ll sort out her involvement later.”
As the guards move to seize you, Max erupts into action. He grabs a heavy tome from his desk and hurls it at the nearest guard, then pushes you towards the window.
“Run!” He shouts. “I’ll hold them off!”
You hesitate, torn between fleeing and staying by his side. In that moment of indecision, a guard grabs you roughly by the arm.
“No!” Max cries out, lunging towards you.
Another guard intercepts him, slamming the butt of his halberd into Max’s stomach. He crumples to the ground, gasping for air.
“Stop!” You plead. “We’ll come peacefully. Just don’t hurt him.”
Bellarmine smirks. “A wise decision. Though I’m afraid it’s too late for leniency.”
As the guards bind your hands, you lock eyes with Max. There’s a strange, sad recognition in his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I thought this time would be different.”
You shake your head, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “It’s not your fault. It never is.”
Bellarmine looks between you, confusion evident on his face. “What nonsense is this?”
Neither of you answer.
You’re led from the study, through the torch-lit streets to the forbidding walls of the Inquisition’s headquarters. As you’re separated and thrown into different cells, Max’s voice carries to you.
“I’ll find you again. I swear it.”
“In this life or the next,” you call back, your voice breaking.
Days blur together in your dank cell. You’re questioned relentlessly about Max’s work, about your involvement. You reveal nothing, clinging to the hope that your silence might somehow spare him.
When they finally come for you, you know it’s not good news. You’re led to a small courtyard where a pyre has been erected. Your heart sinks as you see Max already tied to the stake, his face bruised but defiant.
“Heathen,” Bellarmine proclaims, “you have been found guilty of heresy. Do you repent your sins?”
Max’s eyes find yours in the crowd. “My only sin,” he says clearly, “is loving truth more than dogma.”
The Cardinal’s face darkens. “Then may God have mercy on your soul. Light the pyre.”
As the flames begin to lick at Max’s feet, you can’t contain yourself any longer. You break free from your guards and run towards the pyre.
“No!” You scream. “Max!”
He looks at you, his eyes full of love and sorrow. “Until next time, my love. We’ll get it right someday.”
The guards grab you, dragging you back as the flames engulf Max. His agonized cries pierce the air, but his gaze never leaves yours.
As the light fades from his eyes, you feel a piece of your soul shatter. But deep within, a tiny spark of hope remains. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It can’t be.
Somewhere, somewhen, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and your love endures beyond death itself.
Atlantic Ocean, 1912
The grand ballroom of the Titanic thrums with life, an orchestra playing a lively waltz as couples twirl across the polished floor. You stand at the edge of the crowd, your gloved hands fidgeting with your beaded gown. Your eyes scan the room, searching for one face in particular.
“Looking for someone?” A familiar voice asks behind you.
You turn, a smile lighting up your face as you see Max, dashing in his tailored suit. “There you are! I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”
Max grins, offering you his arm. “Even on a ship this size? Never. Though I must admit, I did take a wrong turn or two.”
You laugh, taking his arm. “Well, I’m glad you found your way eventually. I’ve been dying to dance with you all evening.”
As Max leads you onto the dance floor, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve danced with him before, you think. In grand halls and humble taverns, across centuries ...
“What’s that look for?” Max asks, pulling you from your reverie as he places a hand on your waist.
You shake your head, smiling. “Nothing. Just ... happy, I suppose.”
He beams at you as you begin to waltz. “As am I. Being here with you, it feels ... right. Like everything’s fallen into place.”
You nod, leaning into him slightly. “I know exactly what you mean.”
As you dance, the world seems to fade away. It’s just you and Max, moving in perfect synchronicity. But the spell is broken as a violent shudder runs through the ship.
Max steadies you as you stumble. “What was that?”
Around you, other passengers are looking around in confusion. The music has stopped, the musicians exchanging worried glances.
“I’m not sure,” you reply, a sense of unease growing in your stomach. “Perhaps we should-”
Your words are cut off as a ship’s officer bursts into the ballroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. We’ve struck an iceberg, but there’s no immediate danger. As a precaution, we ask that you all put on life vests and make your way to the boat deck.”
A ripple of nervous chatter sweeps through the crowd. Max’s grip on your hand tightens.
“We should go,” he says urgently. “Now.”
You nod, allowing him to lead you through the increasingly panicked throng. As you make your way through the corridors, the ship’s list becomes more pronounced.
“This is bad,” Max mutters, helping you navigate a particularly steep section. “Much worse than they’re letting on.”
You reach your cabin, quickly donning life vests over your evening wear. As you step back into the corridor, you’re met with a tide of frightened passengers.
“We need to get to the boat deck,” Max says, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Stay close to me.”
You push through the crowd, the ship’s groans and creaks growing louder with each passing moment. When you finally reach the deck, chaos greets you. Officers are struggling to maintain order as passengers clamor for spots in the too-few lifeboats.
“Women and children first!” An officer shouts over the din.
Max turns to you, his face pale but determined. “You need to get on a boat.”
You shake your head vehemently. “Not without you.”
“Please,” he begs, cupping your face in his hands. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
A memory flashes through your mind — Max saying those same words in another time, another place. Always trying to save you.
“And I couldn’t bear to leave you,” you insist. “We stay together. No matter what.”
Max’s eyes search yours for a long moment before he nods. “Together, then.”
As the night wears on, it becomes clear that there won’t be enough lifeboats for everyone. You and Max help where you can, assisting women and children into the boats. The temperature drops, your breath visible in the frigid air.
“I think that’s the last one,” Max says as you watch the final lifeboat disappear into the darkness.
You look around the rapidly tilting deck. Those who remain are a mix of resigned, terrified, and in denial.
“What do we do now?” You ask, your voice small.
Max takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “We face it together. Like we always have.”
As the ship’s stern begins to rise, you and Max make your way towards the railing. The screech of twisting metal fills the air as the Titanic starts to break apart.
“Max,” you say, your voice trembling, “I’m scared.”
He pulls you close, his arms strong around you. “I know. But remember, this isn’t the end. Not really.”
You look up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you feel it?” He asks. “The familiarity? Like we’ve been here before?”
As you stare into his eyes, flashes of memory assault you. A temple in ancient Greece. A Tudor court. A Renaissance study. Always you and Max. Always torn apart.
“The cycle,” you whisper.
Max nods, a sad smile on his face. “We’ll get it right someday. I promise.”
The ship lurches violently, and you cling to each other as you’re thrown into the icy Atlantic. The shock of the cold water drives the breath from your lungs.
“Max!” You gasp, struggling to keep your head above water.
“I’m here,” he calls back, swimming towards you. “Hold on to me.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, your limbs already growing numb from the cold. Around you, the cries of other passengers pierce the night.
“It’s so cold,” you murmur, your teeth chattering.
Max holds you tighter. “I know, love. Just stay with me.”
As the minutes tick by, the cries around you grow fewer. You can feel your strength ebbing, your grip on Max weakening.
“Hey,” Max says, his voice hoarse. “Stay awake. Look at the stars with me.”
You force your eyes open, gazing up at the crystal-clear sky. “They’re beautiful,” you manage.
“Just like you,” Max replies. “In every life, in every time.”
You smile weakly. “You always were a charmer.”
“And you always saw right through me,” he chuckles, the sound turning into a cough.
As your vision begins to dim, you summon the last of your strength to speak. “Max? Promise you’ll find me again?”
His lips, blue with cold, press against your forehead. ���Always. In this life and the next, and all the ones after.”
The cold fades, replaced by a spreading warmth. As consciousness slips away, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the promise of reunion.
The wheel turns. The cycle continues. And somewhere, in another time, another place, two souls prepare to find each other once more.
Washington DC, 1968
The air is thick with tension and the acrid smell of tear gas. You stand at the front of the crowd, your hand tightly gripping a homemade sign that reads “MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.” The chants of the protesters around you swell and ebb like waves crashing against the shore of the Lincoln Memorial.
“Hey,” a familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Max pushing his way through the crowd, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
You smile, relief washing over you. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it.”
Max reaches you, his hand finding yours. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Though the police barricades nearly did.”
You squeeze his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. This feels ... important. Like we’re on the brink of something.”
He nods, his eyes scanning the growing crowd. “I know what you mean. It’s like the whole world is holding its breath.”
As if on cue, a new chant starts up. “Hey, hey, LBJ! How many kids did you kill today?”
You join in, your voice blending with the thousands around you. Max’s deeper tone resonates beside you, sending a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the autumn chill.
Suddenly, there’s a commotion at the edge of the crowd. You stand on tiptoe, trying to see what’s happening.
“What is it?” Max asks, concern etching his features.
“I’m not sure,” you reply. “It looks like ... oh no.”
A line of police officers in riot gear is advancing on the crowd, batons at the ready.
Max’s grip on your hand tightens. “We should fall back. This could get ugly.”
But you stand your ground, shaking your head. “No. We can’t let them intimidate us. We have a right to be here, to make our voices heard.”
“I know,” Max says, his voice tight with worry. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
As the police line gets closer, tensions in the crowd rise. Someone throws a bottle, and it shatters at the feet of an officer. In an instant, chaos erupts.
“Disperse immediately!” A voice booms over a megaphone. “This is an unlawful assembly!”
But the crowd doesn’t disperse. If anything, the chants grow louder, more defiant. You feel Max tugging at your arm.
“Come on,” he urges. “We’ve made our point. Let’s go before-”
His words are cut off by a loud bang. For a moment, you think it’s a firecracker. Then you see the tear gas canister arcing through the air.
“Gas!” Someone shouts, and panic ripples through the crowd.
Max pulls you close, covering your mouth and nose with his bandana. “We need to move, now!”
You nod, coughing as the acrid gas begins to sting your eyes. Together, you push through the panicked crowd, trying to reach the edge of the park.
But the police are closing in from all sides. You see batons swinging, hear the cries of pain and anger from your fellow protesters.
“This way,” Max says, pulling you towards a gap in the police line.
You’re almost there when you hear a scream behind you. Turning, you see a young woman on the ground, an officer standing over her with his baton raised.
Before you can think, you’re moving towards them. “Stop!” You yell. “Leave her alone!”
“Y/N, no!” Max calls after you, but you’re already out of his reach.
You throw yourself between the fallen woman and the officer, your arms outstretched. “Please,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “She’s not a threat. We’re peaceful protesters.”
The officer hesitates, his baton still raised. For a moment, you think he might listen. Then you see his eyes harden behind his visor.
“I said disperse!” He shouts, bringing the baton down.
You close your eyes, bracing for the impact. But it never comes. Instead, you hear a grunt of pain and open your eyes to see Max in front of you, taking the blow meant for you.
“Max!” You cry out as he crumples to the ground.
You drop to your knees beside him, cradling his head. “Max, can you hear me?”
He groans, his eyes fluttering open. “Are you okay?” He asks, his voice weak.
You nod, tears streaming down your face. “I’m fine. Why did you do that?”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”
Despite everything, you can’t help but laugh. “You idiot,” you say fondly.
The moment is shattered by another round of tear gas canisters landing nearby. The acrid smoke billows around you, making it hard to breathe.
“We need to get out of here,” you say, trying to help Max to his feet.
But as you stand, you feel a sharp pain in your side. Looking down, you see a growing red stain on your shirt.
“Y/N?” Max’s voice sounds far away. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
You stumble, your legs giving out. Max catches you, lowering you gently to the ground.
“Oh God,” he says, his face pale with shock. “You’ve been hit.”
You look down again, seeing the bullet embedded in your side. The pain is distant, almost unreal.
“It’s not so bad,” you try to reassure him, but your voice comes out weak and shaky.
Max presses his hand to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. “Help!” He shouts. “We need a medic!”
But his cries are lost in the chaos around you. The world seems to be fading, growing dim at the edges.
“Max,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head fiercely. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’re going to be fine, you hear me? We’re going to get through this.”
You smile sadly, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over you. “We always say that, don’t we?”
Max’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Every time,” you murmur, your strength fading. “We always think this time will be different.”
Understanding dawns in Max’s eyes, along with a deep, aching sorrow. “The cycle,” he whispers.
You nod weakly. “But it’s okay. We’ll get another chance.”
“No,” Max says, his voice breaking. “Not again. Please, Y/N, stay with me.”
But you can feel yourself slipping away. The pain is gone now, replaced by a spreading warmth.
“Find me again,” you breathe, your eyes starting to close. “Promise me.”
Max’s tears fall on your face as he leans close. “I promise. In this life or the next, I’ll always find you.”
As consciousness fades, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the weight of lifetimes. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and somewhere, two souls prepare for yet another chance at forever.
Monaco, 2024
The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. You’re curled up against Max, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The steady rhythm of his breathing is a comforting constant, one you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.
A gentle weight lands on the bed, followed by a soft meow. You open your eyes to see Jimmy padding across the duvet.
“Morning, Jimmy,” you whisper, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. He purrs contentedly, settling down in the small space between you and Max.
The movement stirs Max from his slumber. He blinks sleepily, a smile spreading across his face as he focuses on you. “Good morning, schatje,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.
You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Morning, champ. Sleep well?”
He nods, pulling you closer. “Always do with you by my side.”
As if on cue, another weight lands on the bed. Sassy makes her presence known with a demanding meow.
Max chuckles, reaching over to pet her. “Good morning to you too, princess.”
You can’t help but laugh. “I think someone’s jealous of all the attention Jimmy’s getting.”
“Can’t have that, can we?” Max says, scooping Sassy up and placing her on his chest. She immediately starts kneading, purring loudly.
You watch them with a fond smile, a wave of contentment washing over you. “I love this,” you say softly. “Just ... all of this.”
Max turns his head to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Me too. Sometimes I can hardly believe it’s real, you know?”
You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s like ... we’ve been waiting for this for so long.”
“Lifetimes,” Max agrees, a hint of something ancient in his gaze.
You both fall silent for a moment, lost in memories that feel more like dreams — flashes of other lives, other times, always reaching for each other but never quite able to hold on.
Jimmy stretches, breaking the spell. You laugh as he nearly pushes Sassy off Max’s chest in the process.
“Alright, you two,” Max says, gently moving the cats aside. “I think it’s time for breakfast.”
As if understanding his words, both cats leap off the bed and head for the door, meowing insistently.
You groan, burying your face in Max’s shoulder. “Five more minutes?”
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know they won’t let us rest until they’re fed.”
“True,” you sigh, reluctantly sitting up. “I suppose we should get up anyway. Don’t you have that interview today?”
Max nods, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah, in a couple of hours. Nothing too intense though, just a quick chat about the next race.”
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, stretching. “Want me to make coffee while you feed the furry overlords?”
“Sounds perfect,” Max says, getting up and pulling on a t-shirt. He pauses at the door, looking back at you with a soft smile. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, the same feeling you get every time he looks at you like that. “You might have mentioned it once or twice,” you tease. “But I never get tired of hearing it.”
Max crosses the room in two quick strides, pulling you into a deep kiss. When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless.
“I love you,” he says, his forehead resting against yours. “More than I ever thought possible.”
You cup his face in your hands, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “I love you too, Max. Always have, always will.”
A loud meow from the hallway breaks the moment. You both laugh, the spell broken but the warmth lingering.
“Duty calls,” Max says with a wink, heading out to tend to the cats.
You make your way to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and pulling out mugs. As the rich aroma fills the air, you can hear Max in the other room, talking to the cats as he fills their bowls.
“There you go, Jimmy. Easy, Sassy, there’s plenty for both of you.”
You smile to yourself, struck once again by how perfect this all feels. It’s not just the quiet moments like this morning — it’s the way Max lights up when he talks about racing, the pride in his eyes when he brings home another trophy. It’s the way he holds you after a particularly rough day, or the sound of his laughter when you’re goofing around together.
Max joins you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you pour the coffee. “Smells amazing,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck.
You lean back into him, savoring the moment. “The coffee or me?”
“Both,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
You turn in his arms, handing him his mug. “So, what’s on the agenda after your interview?”
Max takes a sip of coffee, thinking. “Not much, actually. I was thinking maybe we could have a quiet day in? Watch a movie, order takeout?”
“Sounds perfect,” you say, your smile widening. “I’ll even let you pick the movie this time.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Even if it’s another racing documentary?”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Even then. Though I reserve the right to fall asleep on your shoulder if it gets too technical.”
“Deal,” Max grins, pulling you close for another kiss.
As you stand there in the kitchen, coffee in hand and cats weaving between your legs, you’re struck by a profound sense of rightness. This is what you’ve been searching for, life after life. This quiet, domestic bliss with the man you love.
“What are you thinking about?” Max asks, noticing your thoughtful expression.
You smile, leaning into him. “Just ... how happy I am. How perfect this all is.”
Max’s arms tighten around you. “It really is, isn’t it? Sometimes I wonder if I’m dreaming.”
You pinch his arm lightly, laughing at his mock-offended expression. “Definitely not dreaming.”
“Good,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “Because I never want to wake up from this.”
As you stand there in the morning light, surrounded by the life you’ve built together, you silently thank whatever force has finally allowed you and Max to find your happily ever after.
The wheel has turned, the cycle has ended, and at last, your souls have found their home.
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