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Max Caulfield, strange attractor, superhero.
Max Caulfield, your unsurprising crush.
Max Caulfield, girl who rocked your world until you were a teenager.
Max Caulfield, who left you stranded just as you were starting to figure out who you were and why you liked having her around so much.
Max Caulfield, on your mind every day since.
Max Caulfield, who is suddenly a part of your world again.
Max Caulfield, who saved your life.
Max Caulfield, who is sitting on your bed.
Max Caulfield, dressed in modesty and calm.
Max Caulfield, looking at you and wondering why you're having a hard time coping with this.
Max Caulfield, getting blurrier for reasons you're not sure of.
Max Caulfield, whose sweatshirt absorbs tears better than the leading brand.
Max Caulfield, the type of chick who holds you when you admit a crush.
Max Caulfield, whose smaller frame nestles against yours like the curve of a gun in your hand.
Max Caulfield, whose breasts you're having a hard time ignoring pushed against yours.
Max Caulfield, great at rubbing your back.
Max Caulfield, possessor of a voice that sounds like birdsong and music in your ears.
Max Caulfield, apparently the type of lady who occasionally beds other ladies.
(Max Caulfield, apparently the type of lady who beds anyone at all.)
Max Caulfield, who knows more about you than you realized.
Max Caulfield, who looked up to you her whole life, even when you were gone.
Max Caulfield, who thinks you're pretty.
Max Caulfield, girl whose eyes are currently looking right into yours.
Max Caulfield, girl whose hair is shining in the sun coming in through the window, wearing the world as her halo.
Max Caulfield, somehow surprised as you lean forward and find her lips with yours.
Max Caulfield, your makeout partner.
Max Caulfield, girl whose lavender shampoo is making your heart race, whose mint toothpaste mixes with the taste of weed on your lips.
Max Caulfield, not resisting as you pull her downward.
Max Caulfield, moving her leg between yours, settling on top of you.
Max Caulfield, a delicious warm weight against you.
Max Caulfield, the only other sound in the room, quiet breaths and little gasps.
Max Caulfield, feeling around your shoulders, fingers dancing under the straps of your tank top.
Max Caulfield, letting you slip your hands in her back pockets, feeling her curves so close to your skin.
Max Caulfield, ignoring your hands moving upward to her bra clasp.
Max Caulfield, pretending you haven't undone her bra.
Max Caulfield, naked under her shirt.
Max Caulfield, with breasts that you've been dreaming about for six years.
Max Caulfield, your lesbian second base.
Max Caulfield, naked from the waist up.
Max Caulfield, pushing your top up.
Max Caulfield, finding your nipple with her teeth, biting gently.
Max Caulfield, surprisingly experienced.
Max Caulfield, possibly using time travel powers to be this good.
Max Caulfield, who has lost her pants somehow.
Max Caulfield, who has taken yours too.
Max Caulfield, definitely able to control time and clothing both.
Max Caulfield, panting, a sheen of sweat between her breasts, droplets running down her chest.
Max Caulfield, moving away from you.
Max Caulfield, ignoring your protests.
Max Caulfield, who's sitting at the end of your bed.
Max Caulfield, stripping off your socks.
Max Caulfield, locking eyes with you.
Max Caulfield, sucking on your toes.
Max Caulfield, girl with endless surprises.
Max Caulfield, sending chills up your spine every time her tongue flicks against you in a new way.
Max Caulfield, kissing the soles of your feet softly and gently.
Max Caulfield, licking you from heel to toe.
Max Caulfield, turning you on in ways you had never even considered possible.
Max Caulfield, kissing your feet one last time.
Max Caulfield, moving back up to lay with you.
Max Caulfield, more delicious to kiss than ever.
Max Caulfield, letting you roll her over.
Max Caulfield, legs around your head.
Max Caulfield, world's most delicious person.
Max Caulfield, who whimpers and begs.
Max Caulfield, who shivers and tenses.
Max Caulfield, who bucks and bites her lip.
Max Caulfield, who rides to her peak over and over at the tip of your tongue.
Max Caulfield, whose eyes close from pleasure.
Max Caulfield, who grabs your head and holds you down.
Max Caulfield, who implores you not to stop.
Max Caulfield, unaware of how many years you've wanted to do this.
Max Caulfield, who couldn't get you to stop if she tried.
Max Caulfield, chanting your name, fists balled in your hair.
Max Caulfield, body tensed, back arched, breath stilled.
Max Caulfield, spent.
Max Caulfield, legs slack around you.
Max Caulfield, panting and gasping.
Max Caulfield, letting you climb up to her.
Max Caulfield, letting you kiss her.
Max Caulfield, looking at you again.
Max Caulfield, eyes glazed, lips parted.
Max Caulfield, knowing what you've spent six years feeling.
Max Caulfield, knowing your pain.
Max Caulfield, knowing your heart.
Max Caulfield, knowing what you want to hear.
Max Caulfield, saying it.