#i love being embarrassed ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄ i want to be embarrassed so bad

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part seven of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom reader

The fight happens on a day like any other, a random Tuesday in early March

Stepping outside as you clutch your baby close to your chest, you’d almost expected to find the earth to have stopped spinning, to see birds dropping dead to the ground midflight, for dogs to bark incessantly at seemingly nothing at all, hell maybe even for the sun to have disappeared from the sky entirely

But no, everything was still the same, the world went on, the earth kept spinning, and life continued, even in spite of that heavy feeling in your chest telling you that nothing would ever be the same again, not when your world had just seemingly slipped out from under you

What else were you to think after learning what you’d just been told?

You’d sat in that office for far too long, the bright murals on the walls more obnoxious than ever, smiling paintings of woodland creatures mocking you with every second that ticked by, your mind unable to wrap itself around the words being thrown at you, seeing as they were so contrary to everything you knew, so opposite to the man you’d come love

“I’m sorry but- I think you’re wrong. There’s- there’s got to be more to this that I’m not understanding. It doesn’t- this doesn’t make any sense.” You’d mumbled, staring into space as though caught in a daze, certain you’d wake up from this dream sooner than later and laugh about it in the morning, though with every pitiful look the assistant director sent your way, you were worried this was one nightmare you wouldn’t be able to pinch yourself out of

“Hon, I really wish I was wrong too.” She said, rubbing what you’re sure she intended to be a soothing hand across your back, though everything felt too hot right now, too claustrophobic, and you were resisting the urge to flinch from her touch.

“You must be.” You practically whispered to yourself. It had been at least twenty minutes of this now, going back and forth in disbelief despite the paper trail before you

“What about that small chance that I’m not, though? What if this is what’s happening?” She added, pulling her hand back and angling herself to better face you, her expression still pinched into that look of pity and concern you wanted to smack off of her, despite knowing she was speaking with the best of intentions

“What? That he’s trying to trap me?! Has been from the beginning? There’s no way, nuh-uh.” You shook your head adamantly, refusing to believe that there was any possibility of something so ludicrous being true, of being your reality, your life

“Please just- just hear me out?” She all but pleaded, glancing towards the closed door as you heard the sound of laughter echoing down the hall, parents still filtering in and out, picking up their children like any other day, unaware of the drama unfolding in the office. “We always thought it was kind of strange at first that he wasn’t listed on her birth certificate when you submitted it with all your other paper work but- we really didn’t give it much more thought. Really didn’t think twice when he added himself to the list of contacts after you hadn’t put him down, because he told us you’d just forgotten to. I mean from the moment he walked in here he’s always called himself your husband, and you his wife, always claimed to be Rosie’s dad.”

At this point your eyes are squeezed shut, unable to differentiate between what you’re hearing and what you know to be true in your heart. Or at least, what your heart desperately wants to believe is true- your confidence slipping with every word she speaks

“And when he insisted a few months ago that 75% of Rosie’s daycare fees be charged directly to his account, we-”

“What?” You all but hiss at her, eyes snapping open in shock

“So you didn’t know about that either.” She mumbles, cheeks reddening in apparent embarrassment, whether for your or herself you’re unsure, though you’re certain you’re starting to see red the longer you sit here. “I mean, is it even all that surprising at this point? You just got done telling me he’s been trying to have you financially depend on him from the get go.”

“I said he’d offered to help me with the bills when we first started dating. Not that he tried to entrap me!” You bite back, unable to feel sorry yet that you’re being so short with her when this isn’t her fault, right now you need someone to be upset with, someone to take your feelings out on, and unfortunately she happens to be the unlucky messenger caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sure that’s how he made it sound, but hon, I’m just seeing red flag after red flag here. It starts with small ‘favours’ like that, then he’s telling you that you don’t have to work anymore, that you can rely on him. And asking you to move in so soon-”

“It- it isn’t ‘so soon’. We’re already practically living together, we- we’re in love. This- this isn’t- I don’t-” you cut off yourself off, unsure what you’d even say at this point. You can feel a headache coming on, your mind running a mile a minute, you wouldn’t be surprised to find steam coming off of you you’re feeling so heated. You’re beyond confused now, your heart knows that Simon’s never led you astray before, never give you a single reason to doubt him or think of him as dishonest. But you can’t ignore what you’re hearing either, as contrary as it might be to what you’ve known to be true, the facts are set out before you

“I know you love him.” She says softer this time, eyes trying to convey a comfort you don’t want right now. “But I can’t lie, I’m worried now. Like you said, this could all be some very strange misunderstanding. But from where I’m sitting babe, it seems like he’s been lying to you for months now, if not from the start. And the only reasons I can think of him doing that, aren’t very good ones.”

“I just don’t-” Your words are cut off when a knock rasps against the office door, both of you glancing over in time to see the door open.

“Hey Emma, Rosie’s mum hasn’t picked her up yet and I have to clean the room- oh! There you are!” One of Rosie’s educators says, stepping into the room with none other than your baby sat against her hip

You can feel the tension momentarily leave your body as Rosie spots you, her neutral expression turning into one of pure joy as she realizes her mama’s here, tiny arms reaching out towards you as she starts to flail in her teacher’s arms, sweet little coos erupting from her as she all but tries to leap towards you

“We were just chatting. Sorry to have kept you waiting with her. Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” You say, standing from your chair and taking Rosie into your arms, feeling her lay her little head against you as she makes herself comfortable in your hold, a comfort you desperately need yourself right now

“Her? Trouble? Never. She had a great day today.” The teacher smiles politely, excusing herself to likely go finish her closing duties, certainly eager to get out of here now that you’ve got Rosie off her hands

“Maybe we could-”

“I’m gonna get this one home.” You cut Emma off before she can start, readjusting your hold on Rosie as you take a steadying breath. You want nothing more than to get out of here, to pretend that this never happened, though you aren’t sure you’re ready yet for what’s certainly about to happen at home. “Thanks for the chat. I’ll think about what you said and- I’ve got some talking to do with Simon now, I suppose.”

Perhaps by some small miracle, Simon ends up having to work late that night, shooting you a text to let you know that he’s sorry he won’t be home for supper and to please give Rosie a goodnight kiss from him if he isn’t back by her bedtime

You don’t reply to his message

You feel numb, as though this were something that was happening to someone else, a story you might overhear people whispering about while in line at the grocery store, or even an all too cheesy reality TV show storyline, certainly not something that’s happening in your home, to your family

You feel akin to a ghost, a spectre simply going through the motions as you float through the flat, following Rosie’s bedtime routine with nothing more than muscle memory to guide you from step A to B

She’s nodding off in your arms before you know it, blissfully unaware as to the turmoil happening in her mum’s mind, the fight that’s likely to ensue when her dad comes home, none the wiser as you lay her down in her crib for the night, a soft kiss planted on her forehead for Simon’s sake because as conflicted as you are, his love for her is undeniable

If anything, that’s the very thing that has you feeling so confused right now, is because you know Simon loves you, both you and Rosie, and so everything that’s just been revealed to you is so utterly contradicatory you can’t even begin to try and wrap your brain around it

He’s never been anything short of wonderful to you, willing to bend over backwards to make you smile from the very moment you met

The Simon you know wouldn’t lie to you, wouldn’t hide things from you, wouldn’t try to entrap you in any way like Emma or anyone else might try to insinuate

And yet…

Shutting her door quietly, you make your way down the hall, glancing at the piles of boxes that have only recently made a home for themselves along the walls of your flat

Moving boxes, the majority of them being from Simon’s own place across town that he hasn’t been to in months, as you prepare to move into the new house in the upcoming weeks

A house that you love, a house that you dreamt about, a house you can picture becoming a home, and yet still, a house he bought without asking you first, apparently a common trend

Plopping yourself down on the couch, rubbing furiously at your tired eyes as you try in vain to make sense of this conflicting situation

Because the Simon you know, isn’t capable of lying to you

The Simon you know has never once failed to fulfill a promise to you, never ceases to exceed your wildest dreams and expectations time and time again, always coming through for you in every way you’ve ever wanted and never knew you needed

The Simon you know is one who works harder than anyone you’ve ever met before, but didn’t hesitate for a split second to drop everything when Rosie had her first runny nose, fussing over her incessantly until you were both sure it was nothing more than a case of the sniffles

The Simon you know never lets you go through a late night feeding alone, getting up out of bed with you every single time her cries reach your ears, or sometimes insisting you stay asleep while he either goes to retrieve her for you or feeds her a premade bottle himself

The Simon you know doesn’t complain when the kitchen sink springs a leak after he’s had a long day at work, but rather angles Rosie’s high chair so she can see him working as he talks her through every step of the repair, teasing her about starting to pull her weight around he house as she giggles

The Simon you know pretends to grumble when you insist on applying sunscreen to his face on particularly sunny days, but secretly loves every second you spend so close him, fingers tracing his skin and taking care of him as delicately as you would with Rosie

The Simon you know shamelessly carries the diaper bag over his shoulder wherever you go, proudly wears Rosie on his chest in the baby sling any chance he gets, and most of all, never fails to hold your heart in his hand no matter how full they may already be

Tonight however? You can’t help the way your heart seemingly drops when you hear the telltale sound of keys at the front door

Simon is home

“Birdie?” His deep, Manchester accent calls out from around the corner. You’re hardly in control of your body as you rise to your feet and all but float towards him, torn between needing his comfort during such a confusing time, but equally fighting off the hurt and skepticism you’re beginning to feel

“Hi Si.” You meekly respond, coming into his view just as he’s toeing off his mud-caked boots, his eyes lighting up once he sees you

“Hi love.” He replies, stepping closer until you’re within his reach, naturally falling against his chest as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, your eyes closing as you breathe in his scent. “Rosie asleep yet?”

“Put her down just a couple minutes ago.” You answer, arms snaking around his torso to embrace him tightly, unable to deny the hot tears beginning to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

“M’sorry I missed bedtime.”

“S’alright. Gave her your good night kiss for you. And I saved you supper. Just some chicken and salad but-”

“‘Jus’ chicken and salad’ is already more than I deserve for coming home late to my girls. Thank you, birdie.”

You know your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes when he pulls back to look at you, pulling yourself out of his hold to head towards the kitchen, his footsteps right behind yours

“How was your day? Not workin’ you too hard are they?” He asks, opening the fridge and pulling out the plate you’d saved for him

“No, work was fine.” You answer, awkwardly rubbing your arms as you lean against the wall, poking the edge of one of his moving boxes labeled simply as ‘stuff’ with your socked toes. “Actually, my day got kind of weird towards the end, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Simon asks you, peering at you over his shoulder as he gets ready to reheat his food

“Well I uh- I went to pick up Rosie from nursery and wound up talking to Emma. You know, the assistant director?”

If you didn’t know Simon so well, didn’t know his mind and his body language like the back of your hand by now, you might have missed the oh so subtle way he tensed up for no more than a split second, his large frame perfectly still as he held his breath for no longer than a blink of the eye, but you saw it

“‘Course. How is she?” He asks as casually as he can, though he pointedly isn’t meeting your gaze anymore

“She’s fine. Busy as usual. But anyways, I got chatting with her in the first place because I was just letting her know about the move soon. Wanted to update our address.” You add, waving a hand towards the many boxes dotted around the place

“Ah, right. Smart o’ you to get a head start on tha’.” Simon chides in, still not looking at you as he goes about grabbing himself silverware and a drink, keeping his head down the whole time

“I thought so too.” You say, pushing yourself off the wall to step closer to him, feeling your heart begin to pick up pace as dare to say what you’re too afraid to confirm. “Also figured I would go ahead and update Rosie’s contact information, while I was at it. Was well overdue adding you.”

At this point Simon has stopped moving entirely, his back turned to you as he faces the kitchen sink, not a word to be said as you continue

“But then she told me that you were already on there.”

Nearly a full five seconds pass by in complete and utter silence, before Simon slowly spins himself around to face you

“Oh.” Is all he can apparently manage to say at first, his face pulled into an expression you aren’t overly familiar with, eyes glancing everywhere but at your face. “Did you somehow add me and forget?”

“That’s what I thought at first too.” You elaborate, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, despite knowing that there isn’t a logical explanation for the second half of what you’re about to say. “But it was strange because she told me that she remembers having a conversation with you, after our first visit. Said that you were the one to add yourself.”

Again, Simon seems to forfeit to what he knows best in moments of high stress, a painful silence that echoes louder than any shouts ever could

“Things got really strange though, the more she told me. Like how you’ve been paying the daycare bills behind my back.”

“Love, I-”

“What was she talking about, Simon? Please tell me she was wrong.” You interrupt him, feeling your cheeks begins to burn with untamed emotions you haven’t dared to let out yet, the stinging at your lash line growing stronger as hot tears threaten to topple over

“No. She wasn’t wrong, but-”

“What?” You interrupt him, trying your best to keep your volume low for Rosie’s sake, though you can tell your emotions are already starting to get the better of you

“Look birdie, I- I’m not ready to talk about this yet. Let’s leave it alone for tonight, yeah?” Simon says as coolly as he can manage, though you notice the way his jaw ticks, how he runs his hand through his short hair as he only does when frustrated

“What the hell does that mean? You’re not ready to talk about what? Simon what is going on here?” You ask him, feeling yourself becoming light headed as the conversation takes the turn you were fearing it would, his words failing to reassure the uncertainty brewing within you

“Love it’s not- there isn’t anythin’ going on. I’m only jus’ trying to take care of you. So please, let’s just leave it.”

“No, Si. I can’t just ‘leave it’. Not when I’m finding out that you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long!” You insist, reaching behind you until you feel a stack of the moving boxes hit your calf, sitting down on the large box as you look up at Simon across the room. “What am I supposed to-”

“I said enough! Just drop it, please birdie. It’s nothin’.” He snaps at you, going to slam a hand down on the kitchen counter but catching himself at the last second, glancing down the hall towards Rosie’s closed door as he shakes his head to himself

“No! I’m not just going to drop this, Simon. How am I meant to know that you haven’t hidden anything else from me?”

“Oh, because you don’t hide anythin’?” He asks, stepping closer to you while trying to keep his voice down, lest you both wake the baby up

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Christs sake, I’m talkin’ ’bout Rosie’s father. What else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?” He admits, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat, coming to sit on the boxes across from you

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ve gone over this before, it was a fucking one night stand Simon! Rosie doesn’t have a father, because I don’t know who her fucking father is! Is that what you want to hear? That I dont know the stranger who knocked me up after sleeping with him one goddamn time?”

“I don’t know what happened because we never talk bout it!” He replies, one foot incessantly tapping agains the tiled floor as he struggles to keep his cool. “There’s some bloke out there who could show up one day and take everythin’ I’ve worked for, so bloody fuckin’ right I’m concerned! How could you not know who he is? Might not know his name, but you could pick him out of a lineup surely? Describe him?”

“Are you seriously that insecure right now? You’re feeling threatened by a ghost? Because that’s all he was Simon, was a fucking ghost! It was a goddamn Halloween party. Every single person in that was wearing a mask, including me!” You argue back to him. “You want me to try and describe some tall guy wearing all black and a stupid skull mask? Is that it? How he didn’t even take it off while we were having sex? How he only wanted me to call him Ghost the entire goddamn night? What does it matter, Simon?“

By the end of your rant, you’re left huffing and puffing, borderline seeing red as you can’t believe of all things, this is what Simon would feel the need to bring up at a time like this

You’re expecting him to argue back, waiting on him to retaliate with whatever other ugly words you’re going to throw at each other tonight, the first proper fight you’ve ever had

And yet, he’s sat perfectly still, eyes locked on your own though it’s as if he isn’t quite seeing you

Rather, he looks like he’s seen a ghost

“Simon?”

He remembers that night almost too perfectly

Exactly half a year since his forced retirement, Simon was all too eager to get through the last of his ‘highly recommended’ therapy sessions

The older gentleman he met with once a month wasn’t all that bad, to his credit, had some decent stories to share and never pressed Simon to fill in the silence when he wasn’t in the mood to do so

But he was still a shrink at the end of the day, wasn’t he? Still wanted the former Lieutenant to talk about his feelings and his past and his thoughts and his nightmares and just about everything Simon would rather keep under heavily guarded lock and key

Even if he never insisted on making Simon spill his guts the way he might have imagined a shrink was obligated to do in their mandated fifty minute sessions, he’d still somehow managed to get the younger man to open up to the smallest degree, learned as much as he was willing to share within these bleak walls

Though he held no ill feelings towards him nor his profession, Simon couldn’t help but glance at the clock above the shrink’s head at least every other minute, looking forward to having his Saturday afternoons back to himself soon as this last appointment was done and over with

“Simon?” He remembers the old man saying, catching his wandering eye. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry. Go on.” The muscular man had said, crossing his arms across his chest as he’d fought to give the man before him his full attention.

“I was only just saying,” he kindly went on, a soft smile appearing below his white moustache. “If if was something you might be open to exploring, I don’t think it would be the worst idea if you wanted to wear the mask out in public again. One last time.”

“Why would I do tha’?” Simon had questioned.

“Please correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve spoken before about feeling conflicted between who you used to be six months ago, and who you’re having to become now post-retirement. A man with a name and a job and obligations. Whereas for over a decade, you were certain you’d never be anything more than this Ghost fellow you’ve mentioned. This man without a name, without a face. Am I right on this?”

“Suppose so.” He grumbled, shifting in his spot, the softness of the cushions around him a mundane luxury he was still growing used to feeling.

“You’ve also said that the honourable discharge came as a bit of a surprise, an unexpected end to this Ghost, as it were. Something, or someone, you never had the chance to truly mourn.” The shrink had gone on, gesticulating his pale, wrinkled hands with every word he spoke in Simon’s direction.

On his end, Simon could only manage to nod in response, taking in the man’s perspective

“The mask was something pivotal for you, something you held on to without fail for years, Simon. Years. It’s understandably difficult to be told you would no longer going to need this thing you had grown to, dare I say, depend on? Something that kept you separate from the rest of the world? A world you were being thrown back into without a choice?”

The older man had allowed for a beat of silence as Simon absorbed his words, only keeping his eyes on him as any indication now that he was still listening

“Now, I know you’d said that you haven’t put the mask back on since. We also evidently can’t replicate the sort of environment that Ghost used to live in. But if you wanted to put the mask back on for one night. If you wanted to put the mask back on for just a moment and perhaps allow yourself to make peace with this change in your life, to say goodbye to Ghost and give yourself the chance to fully become Simon, well, tonight might not be the worst night to try and do so.”

As if he needed his own shrink reminding him that it was Halloween that night

He remembers the odd few pumpkins lined up outside the apartments he’d passed on his walk home from the session

Remembers the posters for discounted costumes and reminders to check your children’s candy dotted along brick walls here and there

Hell he’d even had a group of giggling trick or treaters run past him at one point that evening

Staring at the handful of boxes he still couldn’t bring himself to unpack yet, Simon sat ins his flat entirely too long that night with a drink in hand, staring at the very one he knew held the thing he woulnd’t have been caught dead without less than a yer ago, now ruffed between some folded shirts

The more drinks he got in his system, the less ludicrous the doc’s idea had sounded to him

Perhaps he should don the mask one last time, if only to see what it felt like to have his second skin back on him again, to be Ghost for only just a moment more

He had been tearing the cardboard box open before he knew it, ripping through clothing until his hands met the familiar feeling of the skull beneath his fingertips

He hadn’t bothered looking in a mirror or anything dramatic of the sort as he slipped the material over his head, not feeling the need to glance at the face he once relished in knowing was the last one countless had ever seen in their lives

Unsure of how he felt but knowing he didn’t want to sit still, Simon had gone back out onto the streets, the sun having set long ago and trick or treaters certainly tucked into bed by now with lollipop coloured tongues and wrappers awry

He knew he wanted to keep drinking that night, seeing as it was the only way he could fall asleep most nights, and needn’t go very far before following the noise of the nearest pub, only just around the corner from his measly flat

Though the place had been crowded that night, packed with the young and old all dressed in differing levels to commitment to their costumes, Simon was pleased to see he could still part a crowd with ease as he’d slunk his way over to the busy bar

The music had been damn near defeaning, and the heat from all the dancing bodies was poignant, his senses kicking into overdrive as he fought the urge to turn hightail and head back to the solace of his empty four walls

The barkeep hadn’t even bat an eye at Ghost’s appearance as he’d made his way over and took his order, making haste to keep up with the demanding crowd

What had the doc said, again? That he ought to be taking this time to say goodbye to Ghost and welcome in Simon?

Pure rubbish, as far as he was concerned

He would always be Ghost in a way, wouldn’t he? Mask or not, his hands would still be stained with someone’s blood, his eyes will still be ones that witnessed death for a living, his heart would still beat to a broken drum, he would always be a ghost of a man on way or another

And so, no, he likely would not have said goodbye to Ghost that night, had he had much of a chance to continue thinking about it

But then again, fate has a way of making things fall into place right when they need to, doesn’t it?

For Simon had only just received his drink when a young woman had suddenly come crashing into his side, her hands unabashedly coming to grasp onto his bicep as she leaned her weight into him

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She’d said, loud enough to be heard over the music, glancing not at Ghost, but rather at someone who’d come to stand just behind him

Prepared to swing around in his seat and size up the person behind him, Simon’s eyes had gotten caught halfway there, when they landed on the stranger holding onto him

Donned in a flowing white dress with long billowing sleeves, a single red rose tucked behind her ear to match the red painted across her enticing lips, Simon was surprised to find an almost perfect Christine from the Phantom of the Opera stood before him, though perhaps more so that the young woman was also wearing the Phantom’s half mask across her face

“You’re expecting me to believe that this is your boyfriend?” A gruff voice had spoken out from the din of the crowd, Simon’s gazing finally landing on a poor imitation of a superhero, the lad clearly wasted on one too many drinks as he tried stepping closer to the mystery woman

Simon’s gaze had fixed back upon the woman’s face, eyes locking for the first time that night, the music in the room suddenly no longer so intolerable, nor the heat so unbearable, not when she was looking at him like that

Simon was smart enough to catch onto what was going on here in time to step in, cutting into the man’s attempt to squeeze closer to the young lady still clinging to Simon’s arm, his tall stature alone enough to have the bloke taking a step back

“Husband. Actually.” Ghost had decided to clarify for him, slinking an arm around your shoulders and ignoring the spark he felt as he did so, blaming the drinks he’d had himself. “Best move on to the next one, mate. She’s taken.”

Luckily, the lad apparently still had enough common sense, or at least self preseration instincts, to know when it was time to back off, moving back through the crowd with his head hung low, not that either of you were still looking at him, instead turning to face one another again

“Jesus, he’s been hounding me all night, wouldn’t take no for an answer, but you say all of ten words to him and he’s over it? Ugh, men I swear.” You’d said, leaning your elbows against the bar top as you went to wave down the barkeep, before catching Simon’s eye again and sending him a playful smile

“Funny way to say thank you.” He’d said, ignoring the way the genuine widening of your smile at his words had sent a jolt through his heart

“Hey, I was getting there.” You had laughed, the sound barely making its way to his ears through the noise of the crowd, but even just the whisper of it has him unconsciously stepping closer to you. “Would a drink be enough to repay for you saving me?”

Simon had glanced back over his shoulder, the tosser nowhere to be seen amongst the flashing lights and ever moving mass of bodies strolling and dancing about

You’d been nearly blinding to him in the darkness of the bar that night, your pale dress and startlingly white mask illuminated by the moving lights, the fog of his drinks already catching up to him, you were an image to behold nonetheless

It’d been a long, long time since Simon had had a girl in his bed, let alone a bird as pretty as you, but Ghost however? If he was lucky tonight, he might be able to get you to come back home with him, and then never see you again when he took the mask off in the morning

“Only if you’ll have one with me.” He’d replied, watching as you lifted a single brow in amusement. “Got to keep up the appearance that we’re here together now, haven’t we?”

“Hmm, suppose so.” You’d agreed easily, hopping up onto the barstool next to him as it freed up, the blush on your cheeks apparent when he’d reached his muscular arm behind you to drag the stool closer. “So, what’s my knight in shining armour’s name, then?”

“Call me Ghost.”

Muahahaha

I’ve been dropping hints in the chapters for a while now, and quite a few of you have guessed it, but yes, it seems Simon might know the baby daddy better than he thinks he does

As an almost strictly fluff writer, the angst in this one was so tough to write! Luckily next chapter will be filled with lots of fluff and smut to make up for the fight

- M 🫶🏻

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[wandasaura]

AMERICAN HONEY

summary — there’s a wild wild whisper blowing in the wind, and it wraps around you tightly in the form sunshine and strong hands.

warning(s) — established relationships, polyamorous relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, bdsm dynamics, daddy kink, mommy kink, butt plugs, slight anal play, public play, exhibition kink, exposed positions, verbal humiliation, light dumbification, degradation, pool party, bathing suits (wink wink bikinis), pussy inspection, praise, hair pulling, prolonged edging, begging, crying, ruined orgasms, fingering, teasing, alcohol consumption, smoking, whining, threat of pussy spanking, kitchen sex, kitchen counters, face grabbing, name calling, mention of subspace, elements of aftercare, fluff if you squint?, truly just depraved 4th of july smut, men/minors dni

authors note — i wrote this in between a million different activities, high noons, and cart hits… so please forgive me for being late, im just a girl trying her best under hard circumstances. this was almost named courtesy of the red, white, and blue… btw

Sunlight gleams down upon already sparkling water, rippled currents in the pool blown wild by the sweet whisper of wind that sneaks into the open landscape backyard. Not many trees conceal the happenings of your residence, nor does the white picket fence that only comes up to Natasha’s waist, but there’s an unspoken solitude regardless — a safety when they’re around. 

Your unwavering trust in them is sensational — one of a kind most certainly, if you ask them at least. It’s evident now, as the breeze swings through the backyard and creates ripples in the west traveling current, and Natasha drags an eight-foot spa skimmer along the surface. She’s creating tension and simultaneously breaking it. She knows that too. 

The classic blue-and-white gingham pattern sitting over your shoulders is timeless, a staple piece for a holiday so proudly rooted in historical achievements. That’s not the reason you chose it though. The pattern reminds you of picnic blankets and comfort; Wanda’s comfort. She’d been in your mind when you purchased it. You’d considered her opinion when you’d noticed the triangular top and tie-side bottoms emphasized by a ruffled trim that would undeniably catch her attention. Wanda had been your thought three weeks ago, but Natasha takes up your brain now. 

The breeze is warm, twinged with a feels like temperature of 91°f, but it feels cold as it blows against vulnerable inches of soft, glistening skin. Natasha notices the involuntary shimmy from across the pool, and her eyes sweep over the gleam on your skin with captivation. A smirk crawls onto her lips. It’s smooth, simple, discreet enough to leave you unsure if it happened at all. 

“Cold, baby?” Her voice carries over the pool with the breeze, and it hits you with a force that has your hips rocking in desperation you can’t hide. You should be embarrassed, humiliated that you’d ever let yourself be pinned to this situation, but they’ve had you like this for hours now, and you’re beyond the point of really giving a damn. Still, your cheeks flame at Natasha’s supposed indifference. Scratch that, just her indifference. Natasha doesn’t feel bad for you. She loves you, she wants the world for you by her fingertips and only hers, but you made your bed, and she’s always been keen on natural order. 

A whine pulls up from somewhere deep and soft in your belly. Your hips rock, searching for pressure, pleasure, anything. All you manage to accomplish she pressing the plug deeper into your ass, the flared base stretching deep within a hole they’re still waiting patiently to fuck. Natasha’s going to be first. Wanda’s already given her that promise for when the time comes. The fleeting thought doesn’t help your flustered and highly strung state, but somehow you find a response. Simple words. “I don’t know.” There’s a whine in your tone, a tremble of petulance that comes with your utmost submission. It’s walls crumbling down, thought slipping away, replaced with natural impulse. 

“You don’t know?” Natasha huffs when the spa skimmer passes through a single handful of leaves, blown over the fence from Agatha’s yard where Rio tends to flagpole cherry blossoms — the only reason you know specifically because Agatha makes sure to correct everyone on Rio’s behalf. She’s barely even paying attention to you right now, huffing beneath her breath as she slams the skimmer into the grass, and it drives you further up the wall of desperation. 

“No?” It’s a question pointed at her when it shouldn’t be. It’s your body, not hers, she has no way of knowing what you perceive as cold if you don’t communicate as such, but you find yourself asking her anyways, and Natasha finds it cute; amongst other things. 

“Don’t know much of anything right now, do you? Too hard to think with your cunt on display for me?” She doesn’t yell the words, but they’re definitely not a whisper either, and your cheeks flame with heat as the breeze seems to project her tone through the yard. You wonder if Agatha heard, if it carried over distinctly enough for her to really pick up on it. Natasha’s probably wondering the same, though nowhere near as muted with nerves. 

“Yes, Daddy.” A hushed whisper, involuntary and soft. You’re exactly where she wants you, but she can’t help but want to push a little harder, keep you here a little longer. Nobody’s set to start arriving for another three hours, so she has at least two to break you down however she pleases. “Please.” 

“Please what, malysh (baby)? Please touch you, please make it feel better, please come over there and spank my pussy because I know I told you to keep your legs fucking spread, so why are they closing?” Natasha’s glare hardens, deep and cold as she narrows her gaze and wills her eyebrows together until they’re scrunched and misshapen. It was an unconscious thing, but still shame pools in your belly and heat flames in your core as you peel your thighs open, further this time, and give her access to all of you. 

The matching gingham bottoms, adorned with a band of ruffles along the top that sits right at your navel tightly, is discarded on the lounge chair to your immediate right — already wet, but not from the pool. Natasha had directed you to take them off twenty minutes after you’d joined her out in the sun, sent away by Wanda who needed to shower without your needy wandering hands, and they’d remained there dutifully for what you suspect is going on an hour. 

The chair is becoming damp beneath you, slick with arousal that drips out of your wanting entrance teased and taunted relentlessly by the fullness in your ass that’s incessant and unmoving, so insufferably understimulating. Natasha can see the pearls of need glimmering on your lips, and your thighs, not just sweat that lights you up with glittering sparkles and radiant beams. Need for her is what unmakes you, and it feels heavenly to have that reassurance in just the way you let it happen like this at all.

“Go find, Mommy.” She directs, pulling her attention away from your cunt, letting it drift to your eyes, and the way you stare at her lazily, drunkenly, blissfully and submissively. So many words to describe the stars in your eyes as the words register in your head, but there’s not enough time in the day for Natasha to prattle off every synonym. 

“What?” You stutter, harping on the simplicity of her statement because certainly she’s not sending you away right now, not like this. When you’re ready and willing to eat out of the palm of her hand and she hasn’t even done anything more than push that plug into your ass bent over the bathroom countertop. 

“Is that head too fuzzy?” Natasha scoffs, shaking her head. Her hair is twinged with strawberry highlights from the sun, a soft shade of golden pink that feels neatly on with the darker auburn curls that frame her face wildly. “I said, go find Mommy.” 

A rebuttal is on the tip of your tongue. A strong-willed declaration that you hate the idea of leaving her and will not be doing anything of the sort of your own volition, but then her eyebrow raises at you challengingly from across the pool, and the butterflies already in your belly are plunged into boiling oil until that flutter and flap about uncontrollably. 

“Bottoms on first, dorogoy.” Natasha smirks when she notices the faint twitch of your muscles beneath your skin — intention budding to the surface, mere seconds away from leaving you exposed to whoever in Westview glances over the picket fence paces away. A scarlet hue twinges your cheeks, and Natasha laughs sweetly as she shakes her head and watches you dress with anxious movements and mousy fingers. “So eager you were gonna prance right through the yard all exposed? By all means, baby, I love seeing that cute little plug, but that’s a little desperate, no? Even for my little slut?” She’s baiting you, teasing you because she can, and it works wonders against you as your skin flushes pink.

“Daddy.” There’s a sickening whine in your tone as it floats with the breeze toward Natasha, a desperate plea for her to do something, anything, clear as day beneath your single utterance of her title — the very one she’d initially had to break you down and coax you sweetly to use. You’ve come a long way since then. They’ve corrupted you in unspeakable ways since the very first night you spent together in the business district of Manhattan. “Please.”

“Inside, dorogoy. Now.” Natasha knows what you want even when you don’t. She won’t deny that you want to cum. She’s known you’ve wanted to be brought over the edge of a blissful orgasm since seven am that morning, but she knows what you want even more that you just can’t see beneath all of that fuzziness in your head. You want to cum, but you want to be broken down and used between them both even more. Your fingers twitch, your knees lock, you're desperate for relief, but even more so for their unwavering control that’s been interlocked with aspects of your relationship from the jump. 

Natasha’s not looking for an answer from you, she’s looking for obedience. The blue-and-white gingham bottoms feel light on your hips, the dangling ties tickle your thighs with every gust of wind that blows past. “Okay.” You concede softly, breath only a whisper as it fights against the changing breeze that throws the submission right back in your face like a brick wall. 

Natasha doesn’t say anything. She just watched how you prance like a baby deer on new legs through the yard because every little step spreads pleasure through your ever slowly frying nerves. It’s a slow process, a tedious game. They have you in a good place, all sweet and pliant, but they could have you somewhere deeper, darker with warmth that feels cold when they leave for too long. She doesn’t say anything, but you hear the aluminum rustling behind you when you reach for the handle on the sliding glass door and strain your eyes for Wanda’s silhouette in the kitchen. 

She brought a High Noon outside with her before you joined. Grapefruit flavor because it’s the one inclusion in the variety pack that you and Wanda turn your nose up at entirely. The watermelon ones, with the green detailing on the front, are reserved solely for you, and the pineapple Wanda. It’s a system that established itself around the third Fourth of July you spent together, and it crushes you like an elephant now as you spare one glance over your shoulder and watch Natasha lift her chin to chase a sip of the fizzling vodka seltzer. 

You think she knows you’re looking at her, lingering by the door with your glassy eyes set solely on her, but she never turns her head to find out. She takes a sip, then two, and then she reaches for the spa skimmer and returns to her task of scooping out leaves that haven’t even fallen into the water yet. She’s meticulous, sometimes annoyingly so, but you know her skin crawls when people come over and mess with her things, so you let her have the one element of control she can grasp with white knuckles unapologetically. 

“Find Mommy.” You remind yourself softly as your attention turns back to the door. You find her easily now that you’re really looking for her. She’s standing by the sink, her back to the living room, face to the window that overlooks the garden she’s packed full of blueberries and roses. The glare from unforgiving sunlight beats down on your back and the door, twinging her slightly yellow and darkening the specifics of her movements, but it allows enough insight for your belly to grow anxious with a desperation for proximity immediately. Your bones feel cold without hands touching your skin, even when sunshine crisps you beyond golden quickly. 

Cold air hits you in the face in an unforeseen ambush that you truthfully should’ve anticipated, and the sound of the door gliding against the track pulls Wanda’s attention to you just as a shiver runs up your already sensitive spine. She looks like she’s about to greet you, coo about the adorable way your muscles twitch when you’re cold, but then her eyes lock onto the ruffles laying over your navel and the swell of your breasts, and she can’t seem to find any words on her tongue at all. 

Your hands curl into tight fists at your sides, stunned to stillness by the drastic change in temperature, her undivided attention on your body, and the fact that she’s standing here in only a bikini that accentuates every curve she’s worked devotedly to maintain. 

You’d known she was going on-the-nose patriotic for a while, but you’d never specifically sought out her choice of bathing suit when you’d been purposefully hiding yours in Natasha’s bottom drawer like a mischievous child. You don’t think she’d intentionally gone to the same lengths of secrecy, but it dawns on you slowly that she’d also probably avoided showing you beforehand with intention. 

“Well hello, devochka (baby girl).” She coos when she gets it together, voice sweet, sickeningly so. Her head cranes just slightly to the left, and the way her hair falls away from her shoulder provides the perfect glimpse at red and white striped straps dangling daintily down the center of her spine, two perfectly formed bunny ears catching your attention from just below her earlobes. “Look at you! Did you get that suit just for me? For Mommy?” 

Natasha doesn’t show you an inch of sunshine until you’ve earned her gentle warmth, but Wanda smothers you in it deep until you can’t even seem to think for yourself without her prompting. She misses no beat even now, her tone sweet like honey, her words curled with such invitation it lures you forward without command. 

“Yes.” You answer, because you know she wants one. You can still think semi-clearly enough to fall in line with the expectations they’ve painstakingly engraved into your subconscious. Your eyes, already glassy from Natasha’s unmaking, already wide with need and desperation, somehow intensify as you drown in Wanda’s appearance. 

You can tell what she’d been doing before you came inside. The counters are clean, the sink dry of any water spots or dishes. But she stands by the sink, on hand on the countertop, the other on her hip. Her chest is angled out toward you, just slightly, just enough to really be able to tell that the cups of her bathing suit are mismatched, mimicking the American flag in a way that doesn’t scream anything overtly annoying or untrue about herself and her views. It’s tasteful, classic, and alluring as you analyze the seemingly crinkled ribbed texture of the two piece. 

“Oh, my good girl.” Wanda preens, humming in satisfaction that you’d only been able to anxiously anticipate seeing for yourself — a fate you chose admittedly, but that’s besides the point. “Come here, come closer. Let me really see it.” She directs, sweet and comforting, her hands coming up to her sides to draw you into her embrace. 

It feels like a waddle as you pad across the kitchen tiles in a pair of flip flops that’s sole purpose is to save the soles of your feet from the blistering concrete out back. Every step jostles the plug in your ass, sparking pleasure that taunts you relentlessly. You’re full, you haven’t forgotten, you can’t forget, but not full in the way you need, not stimulated in the way you’ve been trying to grab onto and secure all morning. Your knees are week, your core throbbing and slickened with arousal that continues to pool out of you at their prolonged nonchalance, and you’re certain that Wanda’s memorizing this wild picture of you to draw inspiration from later on when she has all the time in the world to do this slowly and meticulously. 

“There you are. Come on, come sit.” Wanda smiles sweetly, she holds onto your hips and without any warning lifts you up onto the countertops that are cold to the touch from the stream of air blowing down on them as relentlessly as the sunlight on beige concrete. You shiver again, goosebumps prickling your skin, but it's another sensation that trips you up too. 

The lounge chairs out back are threaded with a flexible net, one that shapes to your body even just a little bit. You hadn’t realized how forgiving that flexibility had been on the plug, but now that her hands hold your hips firmly against the counter, driving the plug further into your ass — deeper — you can’t avoid the pleasure and the devastating disappointment of your cunt remaining empty. 

“Did you have fun out there? You put on quite the show for Daddy. Who taught you those things, devochka)? To sit with your pretty pussy on display for anyone to see and touch. That’s so naughty. Not for little girls who listen to their Mommy’s.” Wanda tsks, and your belly drops with a feeling you can’t name in this haze. Your eyes glisten, tears stinging your waterline as your bottom lip pouts at her sweetly. Oh, how she loves to see you cry for her. “You listen to your Mommy, don’t you, milaya devochka (sweet girl)?”

“Yes.” Your head bobs unconsciously, the answer falling off your tongue before you can even process what she’s asked. You’re already proving your point, her point. Wanda smiles in satisfaction, an amused hum falling into the air around you as she tangles her curious fingertips into the strings at your hips.

“Lift your hips for me, baby. Mommy just wants to check something really quick.” Wanda directs gently, but there’s no room to argue with the tone she sets, especially not as it wraps around you tightly and turns all that remains of your proud independence into pitiful codependency that lingers for hours. It doesn’t occur to you that floaty and clingy is how they want you, but it’s the honest truth. The strings come undone with one testing pull, and in seconds Wanda taps the inner section of your thigh with enough intention to sting, and has them off and in the air before you can even blink dazedly. “Oh my, did Daddy let you take a dip in the pool?” She asks, and your eyebrows furrow innocently. 

“No, Mommy.” Your head shakes, strands of hair that escape your cowboy boot shaped claw clip tickling the nape of your neck and your cheeks as the motion swings them easily in the manufactured breeze. 

“Then why are they all wet, my love? Certainly it’s not all because of that little cunt.” Wanda frowns, tracing her manicured nail over the patch of wetness that’s not entirely visible through the waterproof material, but is still easily identifiable when fingertips graze the sodden garments. Your cheeks flame, and while your thighs had never truly been spread to acclimate the presence of her between them fully, they squeeze tighter shut with her condescending attention on your aching core. “Oh, but that’s what it is, isn’t it, my good girl? You’re just too needy, you can’t even help it — can’t even go one morning without needing somebody to make it all better for you. That little cunt just always wants some attention, doesn’t it?” She’s overwhelming you with questions she doesn’t really want answers to, but she likes to see you squirm at the imagery she lays brazenly at your feet without pity. She might be burning alive without her tongue between your thighs, lapping up any evidence of your arousal, but she’d happily burn with the knowledge that she’s dragging you down with her just because she can; because you let it happen. 

“Yes, Mommy.” You squeak, voice high, officially floaty as it takes on a pitch Wanda hadn’t thought possible before she met you. Her eyes are wild with lust and affection, wild passionate affection that can’t be stifled or diluted by decades of learned self control. She’s a tamed beast, a trusted shot in a war, but sometimes she breaks free of the chains she made for herself to preserve her fragile heart, and when it’s let out on you, there’s no coming back from the heaven she creates out of syllabus and taunting curls. 

“Does it hurt, baby? Is it achey?” Wanda crones, her eyebrows pulled taut with faux sympathy, but even with the knowledge of experience, you can’t see past her sweet questions and gentle movements despite the crudeness of her commentary. 

“Yes.” You whisper, head bobbing. Your eyes trace her face. Her eyes, her freckled cheeks, her nose. The trail across her jawline, the sharp cut of her cheekbones. Her hair falls over her shoulders, not untamed, but rather unconfined; free. 

“Look at me, malysh.” Soft, hard, firm. She cuts through the air and the fog of your mind with one clear order, and when you find her eyes again, deep green and glowing beneath the yellow lighting Natasha’s been itching to switch out for LED, they’re so much darker then you remember, pupils blown wide with lust and glittering refractions of light dusted across the enter dazzling orb. “Open your legs.” 

Your thighs fall open instantly, and your core that’s no longer concealed by the gingham pattern of your bottoms is exposed to her without a barrier now. Your clit pulses at the exposure to cold air, hard and pebbled from tension that nobody’s been kind enough to relieve. Your entrances clenches and unclenches, no rhythm, no reason, just begs whimsically for something to probe it unkindly and brutally. Your lips are puffy, swollen and red. How much of the glow comes from unforgiving sunlight or arousal Wanda’s uncertain, but for the moment she’s captivated by the effortless beauty of your pussy as it begs her for anything. 

“Oh, so eager already?” Wanda groans, before her attention is pulled to your clot when it throbs unabashedly at her condensation. Your cheeks can go flush, your brain can go fuzzy, but your pussy is the biggest tell of them all. “Aw, that must feel so icky, princess. Yeah?” 

“Mommy!” Your feet kick against the countertops petulantly, a whine pulling from somewhere in your belly that’s only explored when they can get you there; here. Wanda’s eyes harden, her jaw clicks at the audacity you somehow still have even halfway to the moon and out of touch with everything else. 

“We do not kick.” She scolds, sharp and clear, and your throat bobs with a thickness that somehow even burns in your eyes. “Now be quiet and let me check. God only knows what your Daddy did while I wasn’t watching you both.” Wanda rolls her eyes, and before you can even really process what she says, her fingers pull your lips apart, exposing your clit and clenching hole. It’s another level of exposed, a deeper shudder of pleasure that runs up your spine and shakes you just enough to shift pressure on the plug. “God, look at this pussy. So pretty, baby girl. Remind me, whose pussy is it again?” 

It takes a second, more like three, for you to find an answer in your head as her fingers continue to simply hold your pussy open for her eyes to marvel at, but eventually you do, leaning closer to her unconsciously as your eyelids bat heavily. “Yours.”

“And what’s my name, baby?” She hums, half satisfied but wanting more. She always wants more, she’s as insatiable as you, though neither one of you can compete with Natasha. 

“M-Mommy!” You gasp when her fingers brush your clit, just once, just hard enough to really feel how pebbled and click your pulsing bud is with arousal right now, before anyone really even touched you. A whine of disappointment falls off your lips when she doesn’t make a move to repeat the action. 

“Yes, milaya devochka?” She smirks smugly, and it’s a miracle that your muscles don’t move on their own accord and thrash against the countertop in petulant frustration that’s been building for hours on end now. One push too far and you fall down a spiral they need undivided attention to pull you out of, but if you continue to glide just right, they know there’s heaven in your future — all of your futures. 

A strangled whine falls off of your lips, your hands reaching out to grapple at the strings of her bikini. You know Natasha’s planning on wearing a white top and black athletic shorts that she has no reason to take off before she jumps into the pool, but it won’t be as captivating as how Wanda looks right now. 

“I wonder how desperate this pussy is for me. If I just press right here… yeah, just like this, oh fuck, baby. Not even pushing into you and this tight little cunt is just beginning for more.” Wanda moans beneath her breath, her eyes closing tightly for only a second before they focus on your core again. “Let’s see what happens if I do…this.” She questions, and then she eases that one single digit into your entrance and nothing else matters anymore.

A high pitched whine escapes you, and despite the stillness that follows her quick intrusion, the complete fullness that finally settles something in your bones sparks you into all encompassing pleasure quickly. Your hips don’t rock on their own accord, they’re infuriatingly still despite the pleasure blooming in your core halfway, and Wanda knows that you won’t be able to move until something lightens up, but you don’t want that either. You want whatever she gives you, whatever gets you there. 

“So responsive for me, baby.” She teases when you gasp again, and when her finger curls, pointedly and with clear intent against that spongy part of your walls that’s buried just perfectly behind your clout, it’s all over for you as your forehead drops to her shoulder and you gasp out ragged breaths. “Oh, does my pussy like that? Do you like it when I finger you here? On the counter, with your legs all nice and spread open. Fucking hell, you’re close already? Just from this?” Wanda groans, her eyes screwing closed, concealing the aroused amazement that floats in her eyes as she feels your walls contract around her finger tightly. Just the one, she hasn’t offered any more. 

“Please!” It’s the only thing you’ve managed to say, to bring yourself to ask in minutes, and Wanda feels so smug to know that in darkness, the one grain of light you found was the expectation to ask before you cum. She knows you’re not really asking though. You’re telling her you’re cumming, falling over the edge into her single finger that doesn’t even fuck you, just curls up and against your g-spot every few seconds without rhyme or reason. This was never about fucking you. She’d never told you that, nor led you to believe it. But what your mind made up on its own was none of her concern when she’s told you time and time again to let her do the thinking. “Nu uh! No! No! Please!”

Wanda’s fingers pull away from your cunt quickly, just as she felt your walls tightly so impossibly around her knuckle that even she knew any second longer and you would’ve fallen over the blissful edge into paradise. Instead, her palm slaps against your core, still exposed despite how your thighs tremble hanging off the edge of the countertop. Wanda coos, she grabs your ankles between delicate fingers, guiding your legs up until your chin rests on your knees and the soles of your feet are firmly against the marble, your core still open and exposed to her eyes, but the slight cant of your body now leaning to engage more core support opens up an entrance that Natasha’s left untouched since the early morning. 

Wanda doesn’t even address the ruined orgasm, but she watched how your cunt pulses and clenches with need and desperation. She groans when a single tear falls down your cheek, your bottom lip bitten and a picture of desperation. Your clit pulses with the beat of your heart, and despite the heavy feeling in your bones and the way this position has you still, your hips try to chase the sting of her palm slapping against you mercilessly. 

“Daddy picked such a pretty plug for you, malysh.” Wanda coos, her manicured fingers tapping against the jeweled plug in your ass, adding to the sensitivity that bites at your exposed nerves and core. Your hips try to jump, but they can’t with the way your hands hold your ankles tightly, having taken Wanda’s place with quiet submission. You know what she wants, and sometimes you give it to her without question. “But it’s time for it to come out now. We’re all done playing.” Wanda tells you firmly, the boundary now drawn clear, but you still whine in defeat as excitement bubbles in your belly and becomes twinged with anxiousness at the prospect of going all day unsatisfied. You need her, all of her, and she’s only giving you what she wants. 

“Please! Please, I don’t want to be all done!” It’s almost a wail, definitely a whiny plea, but it’s silenced by fingers grabbing at your cheeks until your lips pucker like a fish. Wanda’s hold is unrelenting, tight and dominating. She’s all done toying with your body so boldly, but her control hasn’t wavered for even a second. 

“We are all done. I’m going to take the plug out of your ass, and then we’re going to put another layer of sunscreen on before Maria and Yelena get here. Do I make myself clear?” She let’s go of your face only so that you can nod freely, your hand coming up to rub away the itch on your face from where the tear had slowly fallen with cinematic timing. “Words.” 

“Yes, Mommy.” You whine, and she allows it, only because you look so sweet fucked out and scolded on the counter, a puddle beneath you that you either have noticed, or aren’t aware enough to be embarrassed about. Satisfied with your answer, Wanda pulls you off the counter and spins you around under the edge of the marble digs into your belly, right above where the ruffled fabric lays against your navel. 

“Relax for me baby. Take a big deep breath in.” Wanda’s fingers find your clit at the same time as the other hand fings the base of the plug, and as you breathe in through your nose, she rubs tight loose circles around your still throbbing bud and works the plug out without teasing. She wasn’t kidding. You’re all done playing. But it still disappoints you that she didn’t at least try and drag it out any longer. “Good girl. Good job. Now, put your bottoms back on and wait for me.”

“Why do I have to wait?” You pout, wanting only to be wrapped up tightly in her embrace at the very least if she wasn’t going to work you through a mind blowing orgasm. The only thought on your mind is her, her and Natasha, but the redhead is still locked away outside, still treating the pool and skimming the water and putting off getting dressed because that’s the very last thing she has control of before chaos ensues for hours. You think that vaguely, but it doesn’t hold much weight. Nothing outside of earning her praise and her attention holds any weight to you. 

“Because, you made a mess on my countertops after I just cleaned them.” Wanda scoffs, and your cheeks flame, and you whispered a muted ‘Oh’ because what do you even say to that, and she smiles mischievously over her shoulder as she drags a paper towel over the mess and then reaches for the all purpose cleaner that smells like lemons and vanilla all at once. “Yeah, oh.” She giggles before she throws the paper towel away and turns her attention back to you, sighing softly when she sees you’ve made no effort to reclaim the still untied bottoms on the ground and redress yourself despite the time ticking by faster and faster.

“You feeling okay? Just a little floaty? A little needy?” Wanda asks, assuring that you know she already knows where your head is at, but wanting to make sure nothing else had breached the surface of your little paradise found in her arms as she wraps you up tight in her embrace, forgiving eye contact for only this moment as you snuggle in deep and use her for all the warmth and comfort that she packs in her body. 

“Okay. Just wanna be close.” You muse, eyes closing, but you’ve never known Wanda or Natasha to let you rest after a session, and without fail she tugs your head and begins guiding you down the hallway to the bathroom, directing you to pee while she sifts through the sunscreen in the cabinet until she finds the one specifically for you. 

It doesn’t dawn on any of you until hours later that the plug was left in the kitchen, right in plain sight on the countertop, but you’re eternally thankful to Maria who moved it without question after noticing, and only brought it up to Natasha with smugness three times throughout the night.

[lilpaigeywbb]

☆✷ relief ✷☆

➜ summary: paige is on her period, so you have to make her feel better and loved.

➜ warnings: period sex (sorry if you're not into that), smut, fluff, fingering (p receiving), not proofread (duh)

➜ pairing: sub!paige bueckers x reader

➜ author's note: sorry this took so long!!!! idk what else to say other than enjoy :) might take me longer to get some other stuff out bc i have work all weekend so bear w me plsssss k bye

you found her curled up on the couch, her face in the pillows. paige had had a stressful day; between getting her period, one of her best friends and teammates being traded, and being named an all-star starter, she was breaking down. you could see the outline of a heating pad under her hoodie. she barely acknowledged you when you came back into your shared apartment.

“bad day?” you asked, gently moving to kneel beside her. paige nodded, nose scrunched. “cramps,” she mumbled. “lyss is gone, six-flags was chaotic, and everything hurts. ‘nd my body’s bein’ mean… but hey, at least i’m an all-star.”

you brushed some hair from her forehead, feeling the heat of the heating pad even through the fabric of her hoodie. “you are an all-star,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “and even all-stars are allowed to have really crappy days.” she smiled and hummed, grateful for your understanding, but then she pouted.

“i feel gross,” she murmured, huffing and hiding her face in the pillows of the couch. “you look beautiful,” you said without hesitation, letting your fingers trace gently over her arm. she smiled and blushed a bit. she always got soft and less dominant during this time. “lemme take care of you tonight, p,” you purred, your voice smooth in her ear.

paige knew that voice all too well. it was the one you used when you wanted sex, and it made her blush even more. “you don’t have to…” she whispered, the embarrassment and hesitation clear in her voice. “but i want to. and just because you’re on your period doesn’t mean i think you’re any less sexy.” she huffed and her blush grew. “fine.”

she wanted to take a bath first, so you obliged, turning the water on to the perfect temperature and adding her favorite scented bath salts. you helped her undress with the utmost care; it was almost overwhelming for her. she settled in the tub once she was fully naked, feeling the warm water soothe her body. she watched intently as you stripped, feeling something warm in her tummy, but she tried to ignore it.

you got in behind her, wrapping your arms around her middle and resting your hands on her abs. she sighed happily and leaned back against you with ease. she always felt safe and content when she was in your arms. your hands slid lower, just under her belly button, and as you caressed her skin, you could feel her squirm - just slightly - but enough to know that she liked what you were doing.

her head lolled back against your shoulder, her lips finding your jaw, and she began to leave sloppy kisses all over it. this was your sign that it was okay to continue, but just to be sure, you whispered in her ear, “can i make you feel better, baby?” she whined and nodded instantly.

it was rare for paige to ever let you touch her on her period, mostly because she found herself gross, but she was also embarrassed by how submissive she would get. for some reason, today was different. maybe she was just horny as hell, or maybe she got over her embarrassment.

your hand slid lower, just barely ghosting over her pussy but enough to make her squirm and whine out your name. her hand gripped your wrist, a desperate motion to let you know that she wanted needed more, so you gave it to her. 

your fingers slowly touched her clit, causing a soft moan to escape her lips, so you started moving your fingers in gentle yet calculated circles. you wanted to make sure she felt as good as possible, especially since she was so sensitive during this time. 

paige’s whines and moans grew more frequent, her hips shifting up and causing the water to lap around you two in the tub. “relax, baby… you’re gonna get water everywhere,” you murmured, moving your fingers faster against her. she moaned and huffed, “can’t help it… you feel too good. feel like i could cum alre-” you cut her off by stopping your movements, prompting her to whine pathetically loud.

“no!” she all but squealed, grabbing your hand and putting it back in place. she guided your movements, her hand over yours, making you rub her clit at just the right speed. you smiled and started nipping at her neck, allowing her to take control for now.

she sighed in relief and continued to let out mini-moans and whimpers, her hand gradually moving faster. “you want more?” you breathed in her ear, prompting her to nod and gasp, pushing your fingers into her and letting you take the lead again.

your fingers moved in and out of her, the only sounds being her heavy breathing, whines, and the bathwater lapping around you. she felt a sudden wave of embarrassment, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements, “don’t…”

you paused and obliged, stopping your movements. your eyebrows furrowed, and you kissed her cheek. “baby, what’s wrong?” she huffed and looked down at the water, almost bashfully. “i just- i feel gross. i’m probably just gonna bleed all over your fingers and-” “baby, stop.” you interjected, letting your hands caress her thighs. “you’re beautiful no matter what, okay? even if you’re bleeding. i don’t care. i still and always will think you’re perfect.”

she was a goner.

she pushed your fingers back in, whimpering and gasping. you started pounding her shit, knowing she didn’t need time to adjust. she was ready for you, and she made it known. her moans grew louder, her pussy tightened around you, and she was whispering your name like a prayer.

you loved her like this, all needy and vulnerable for you. it was a side she rarely showed. her lips found your jaw again, craning her neck so she could kiss your soft skin. as her bites got harder, you knew she was close. you sped up your fingers, curling them deep until you found that perfect spongy spot within her.

paige whined and her mouth hung open, so you caught it in a kiss, tongue sliding into her mouth with practiced ease. she whined again against your mouth, allowing you to swallow all of her beautiful sounds. your fingers sped up even more, her pussy clenching around them so tight until she came.

she looked like an angel, her head tilted back against your shoulder as the most beautiful noises came out of her mouth. your free hand caressed her side as your fingers slowed, her pussy fluttering around them as she came down from her high. you slowly removed them and held her closer. she sighed and leaned back against you, just wanting to be in this moment forever.

you helped her stand, draining the tub and turning on the shower. you wouldn’t let her move an inch, wanting to take care of her. you washed every inch of her milky skin until she was clean, massaging her head as you scrubbed her scalp, all while pressing soft kisses to her shoulders or neck. 

paige was quite pliable like this, just willing to do whatever you asked. you helped to dry her, get her in new clothes, and make sure she was comfy in bed. you offered to get her a heating pad and a drink, but she refused. “you’re all i need,” she murmured, snuggling into your chest. you held her close, combing your fingers through her wet, blonde strands. 

“i love you always,” you whispered, kissing her head. she smiled up at you and kissed your lips gently. “thank you. i love you too, always.” she paused before adding, “thank you for always making me feel beautiful.” your heart melted, and you kissed her again, this time longer. “you are beautiful. you deserve to know and be reminded on a daily basis.” and she was.

paige was always reminded that she was beautiful because of you, and what more could she ask for?

[barleyo]

All Eyes on You.

Amir x F! Reader (smut)

A/N: i wish amir was more popular. he's so sweet, but maybe i'm just biased towards divas like him. reblogs and comments are appreciated, i hope you enjoy <3

Tags: stern praise, slight manhandling, p in v, mentions of insecurity, mirror sex

Wordcount: ~0.6k

While he had let you get away with it the first couple of times, Amir was anything but stupid. When you asked to stay under the covers the first time you both made love, he assumed you were just nervous. He agreed and slipped under the duvet with you. When you brought up blindfolds, he thought you were spicing it up a bit. 

He started to get tipped off to what was going when you seemed to avoid any situation that allowed him to see you fully. He was hesitant to bring it up. He never wanted to push you, but it was killing him to think you were so insecure about how your body looked. He kept quiet.

Until you asked him to turn all the lights out before he bedded you. He paused in the doorframe and stared at you, thick eyebrows pinched together in vexation. 

Amir huffed loudly, arms crossing over his chest. "Why?"

"Why?" you echoed, feeling small under the scrutiny of his glare. You felt judged, but not in the way you feared it. You felt him picking you apart under his gaze, ripping into your insecurity and discomfort.

"Yes, why?" He passed the room's threshold and closed the door behind him, leaning against it while he waited for you to explain yourself to him. "Why do you keep asking me to blind myself?" 

Dramatic, yes, of course he was, but he was extremely serious.

You bit your lip. You knew that if you told him your were dissatisfied with how you looked, he'd be more offended than anything else. You also knew that if you lied, he would be able to see right through you. You were torn.

"Well?" he asked, impatiently pouting while he waited for an answer.

Might as well be truthful, you thought. Huge mistake on your part.

Your cheeks were uncomfortably smushed at this point. It started to hurt a bit, but the pleasure you were getting made it worth it. 

"Who's that pretty girl I see?" Amir adjusted your face again, keeping your eyes firmly trained on your reflection in the mirror in front of you. His hand kept your cheeks squished together, lips poured out. "Go on. Pretty girls deserve to be kissed, right?"

You shuddered as he pressed you forward with his weight, cock pushing into the hilt, making you kiss your own reflection. You would feel embarrassed being bent over on the floor and forced to stare at yourself if it didn't feel so good. Your eyes dipped upwards on the mirror to look at Amir. He was completely invested in you, eyes boring into the back of your head and your reflection.

"Unh-uh," he corrected you again, tilting you head forward. "Don't look at me. Look at yourself."

You did. You cringed slightly at the sight. You looked a mess. Hair out of place, drool pricking the sides of your lips, eyes glazed over. Your tits and tummy jiggled beneath you with each of Amir's thrusts. 

"Fucking gorgeous," he said with a deep groan, fingers running through your hair and gently gripping a handful. He noticed the slight grimace on your face. "Why must you do this to me, azizam? Don't you know how rejecting your own beauty hurts me so?"

You felt a hint of guilt creep up on you, but your self-consciousness was a strong barricade. 

"No matter," Amir said, yanking your head back to look at him. "We'll stay here all night if we have to. If you can't see how beautiful you are, I'll show you myself."

[yuckyyuna]

WHERE DID YOUR SHIRT GO?

yuckyyuna notes : saw this and went kinda crazy, like actually i wrote this so quickly...

warnings : smut, mdni, suggestive

JINU

the nervous idiot (suggestive)

• you had taken it upon yourself to clean the house before the other boys got back

• and jinu, being the wonderful boyfriend he is, decided to help where he could.

• "yeah, my arms hurt tho. abby dragged me with him to the gym yesterday" he said as he picked up an empty can drink.

• what jinu didn't realize was that the more he worked out with abby, the more muscle he had on him

• he stood up straight and stretched his arms up toward the ceiling with a small groan from tiredness.

• "pop!" "pop!"

• "oh..." his buttons on his shirt opened and he rubbed his neck embarrassed as blush crept up his ears

• "sorry, i didn't-" before he could finish, you had your gloves tossed to the side as you walked toward him.

• "Wait, what are you-" your palms pushing him down on the couch behind him as you sat to straddle him.

• his hands instinctively holding onto your waist as your finger traced over his stomach as you rolled your hips on top of him.

• now if you knew this is how your demon boyfriend looked underneath all that clothing, you wouldn't be cleaning in your free time.

• he had his head thrown back and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he had never seen you like this.

• he is definitely going to work out more with abby.

ROMANCE

confused (suggestive)

• romance was facing the mirror, grabbing his shirt to put on.

• "rome, i saw these face masks, i wanna do-" as you entered the room, you froze.

• "we can do them whenever you want, love" he responded as he turned around and nodded.

• "scratch that, face masks can wait" you said as you dropped the shopping bag on the side and he looked at you so confused.

• you walked towards him, hands sliding around his neck and his arms pulled you closer, his fingers already working the knots in your back out of love.

• "what's got you so worked, mhm?" he whispered as he got close to kiss you.

• you quickly looked away and shook your head "you always take care of me, let me do the same for you"

• romance didn't know how to react, he was used to pampering you, not the other way around.

• your hands ran down from his neck, trailing lightly towards his pants as you got down on knees looking up at him.

• his breathing slightly changed as he stared down at you as you kissed his clothed thigh, and he exhaled heavily.

ABBY

he knows he's hot (suggestive, mentions of reader being a girl)

• "pink or yellow?" abby asked as he held out two shirts and you sat on the bed pretending to listen.

• "focus, my eyes are up here" he continued as he smirked and put down the shirts

• "huh? i like the pink one." you said as you shook your head.

• abby simply laughed as he got closer to you, his finger on your chin as he made you look up at him.

• his eyebrow raised as he tilted his head.

• "you said you wanted to help me pick an outfit, not imagine me between your legs" he said as his thumb pressed against your bottom lip and you unintentionally squeezed your legs together.

• he had to go to a promotional ad but work could wait right now

• he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as his hands squeezed your thighs.

• who was he to not give his girl exactly what she wants?

• "You're gonna have to stay quiet unless you want the others to hear you?"

MYSTERY

the slow one (suggestive)

• you lay on the bed as mystery was beside you. you were watching a show on the laptop together until you checked just how late it was.

• "i'll be back, i'm gonna take a quick shower." you said as you got up and walked towards the bathroom.

• you heard shuffling behind you

• mystery was simply taking off his shirt and your jaw dropped at the sight.

• he tilted his head in confusion. "what?"

• "why are you taking off your clothes?" you asked as you stared at him. (totally not feeling your body heat up)

• "you said you're showering, i need too as well." he said as he shrugged his shoulders and tossed his shirt to the side

• "no, you cant shower with me" you said as you pointed at him and stopped moving.

• "but-" "no, we are not going to end up showering." you said flatly as you shook your head.

• he thought for a bit and ended up with a small smirk on his lips.

• "i have self control, you don't." he said as he stepped closer and you stared at his body. his pants hanging loosely around his waist.

• you cleared your throat and he laughed as he walked past you into the bathroom.

• "let's go shower"

BABY

the flirt (suggestive)

• the heat was killing you as you sat in the living room watching a horrible romcom

• "where did you put the lollipops you bought?" a voice erupted from the kitchen.

• you looked up from you seat to see baby leaning against the counter, his shirt long gone.

• baby was the one member you never really spoke often with and seeing him shirtless was something you never expected to see (not that you're complaining)

• he stared at you waiting for an answer, your eyes dragging over his torso and he smirked.

• next you found him stand in front of you, the pink smoke around him, indicating he appeared here.

• "you’re staring." he said with a smirk and you looked away, rolling your eyes.

• "no, I'm not."

• "yes, you are."

• "i'm gonna slap you, shut up."

• "do it, i might like it."

• you immediately froze as you stared at him and he shrugged his shoulders.

• "hit me up when you wanna, im down." he said as he turned on his feet and walked away back to the kitchen, leaving you hot and bothered (and annoyed)

I was so serious when I said I wanted to draw them shirtless!(WIP) Fic writers I'm counting on you to make headcanons out of this lol♡♡

[thatonegrimm]

Would it be possible to get Huntrix (separate) with an adhd reader?

Yes of course!! 💕 Here’s our fave girlies!💌

🎤 When Huntr/x Notice You Masking

------------------------------

You were careful around them.  Polite. Useful. Still.

Not because you didn’t trust them — but because you’d spent your whole life learning when to tuck parts of yourself away. The bouncing. The fidgeting. The half-sentences and tangled enthusiasm and thoughts you couldn’t explain fast enough to be understood.

But it only took them one moment each — quiet, small, ordinary — to notice.

------------------------------

🪽 Rumi

She notices the first time you walk in behind the others and say nothing.

It’s not like you haven’t been talkative before — you usually are. A little scattered, a little fast, but always with that spark in your eyes. That motion.

But today you’re quiet. Too quiet. Standing too still.

And Rumi, who knows what it feels like to be both half-demon and too-human at once, doesn’t say anything at first.

Later, she finds you in the stairwell, tapping your fingers rhythmically on your knee.

“You’re masking,” she says gently.

You freeze. Look up, startled.

“It’s okay,” she adds. “I just didn’t want you to think you had to.”

You swallow.

“I didn’t want to annoy anyone.”

“You don’t,” she says. “But even if you did—your peace is worth more than our comfort.”

You blink hard. She doesn’t leave.

She just sits beside you, shoulder to shoulder, and lets you unmask in silence.

------------------------------

🗡️Mira

You always try to be useful around Mira. Organized. Reliable. Not “too much.”

You don’t interrupt. You don’t bounce. You triple-check everything you say before speaking.

So when you drop a spoon in the kitchen and freeze like it’s the end of the world, Mira doesn’t sigh or scold.

She just crouches to pick it up beside you and says, “You’re trying really hard to be perfect, huh?”

Your throat tightens.

“I just don’t want to be the one who messes up.”

She’s quiet for a second. Then puts the spoon down and meets your eyes.

“You’re allowed to be messy.”

“I don’t want to frustrate anyone.”

“You won’t.”

She says it with the kind of certainty you don’t argue with.

Then she presses a wrapped snack into your hand — one you’d mentioned craving once, weeks ago — and nods.

“Go stim in peace. I’ll handle the dishes.”

And somehow, that’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you.

------------------------------

🦋Zoey

You love being around Zoey. She’s expressive, creative, easy to mirror.

But when you zone out during one of her stories, your stomach drops. You snap back, eyes wide with guilt, about to apologize.

She just blinks.

“Oh. Did I lose you for a second?”

You nod, embarrassed.

“No worries,” she says brightly. “Want me to rewind or just vibe while you catch up?”

You blink.

“Wait—you’re not mad?”

She tilts her head.

“Why would I be? You’ve literally never judged me when I info-dump for forty-five minutes about underground hip-hop. Why would I care if your brain bounced for two seconds?”

You don’t have an answer.

She pats the seat beside her. “Sit. Fidget. I like you better weird anyway.”

------------------------------

M-List

[blossomcola]

puppy!reader going into a heat and g!p aespa are there to help her 🤤🤤

- ⭐️ anon

pairing. dom!gp aespa x puppy hybrid!fem reader.

content warnings. blowjob, breeding, creampie, deep throat, degradation, face fucking, humiliation, throat fucking, riding.

the idea of owning a hybrid puppy was giselle’s. surely she and the girls wanted to have a pet since they lived together in the same home and a small and loving presence that warms their hearts would not be a bad idea, but they were very foolish to leave everything in giselle’s hands after she offered to be the one to get this canine presence… just imagine the girls’ reaction when giselle enters the apartment and says, “come on, my pet.” and behind her a puppy girl timidly enters the home??? they would have thought that it was just giselle messing around, making one of her dates wear fake puppy ears just to tease the girls, but seeing how your ears went from being still to moving fully on each side of your head as you felt embarrassed for being under their gaze, they knew that giselle wasn’t playing a joke on them…

karina would probably be the most common among them because she sees you as a precious little thing that needs special attention and care 🥺 she is the one who treats you best and is always attentive to your needs, which would cause you to always be behind her, following her around and always seeming to be waiting for her to give you orders or commands because you listen to her! at first, karina wasn’t entirely sure about having a hybrid and always felt against giselle’s firm decision. but seeing how you are always behind her and do what she asks without question makes her quickly change her mind and thoughts.

of course she wouldn’t be very sure about helping you with your heat because she sees you as her sweet love and can’t think about fucking you, but seeing how you stand in front of her and hug her leg while begging her to please “don’t be mean” gives her a pang in her heart and she feels guilty for making you have a bad time :( luckily karina quickly changes her mind and ends up fucking you in her room <3 she’s trying not to lose her sanity and destroy you because you whimper so cutely and your legs can’t seem to stay still on her shoulders that karina is using all her strength not to fuck your holes until the bed breaks — but of course, if you ask nicely and in the best way, maybe karina will leave manners aside and give you what you want.

giselle… the worst of all. she wouldn’t take care of your problem, but would make you solve it on your own, like? by riding <3 giselle would have no compassion and would not feel sorry for you even when you are in a vulnerable stage and moment, so don’t expect her to help you with your heat because unfortunately it won’t happen :( watching you bounce on her cock, squirming in her lap and holding onto her shoulders is an image that completely feeds giselle’s ego. she would do it mainly because she loves watching you beg her to please help you when you are simultaneously riding her cock with the energy of a puppy who wants to play with its owner, only in this case it is a puppy that is receiving little attention from the one who is supposed to love her :( giselle would torture you until your eyes burned from crying so much and only silly babbles came out of your lips, lulling in false understanding as you noticed how little by little she was managing to break your sanity.

winter and ningning would be in this together because i see them both being so needy that they couldn’t wait for the othe’s turn first and then it’s their turn. winter would have you on your hands and knees because your harmless pleading for her to help you was more than enough to make her head spin, so she would probably develop a breeding kink given the idea of filling you to the brim and then seeing a small baby bump on you because your belly is full of her seed would make her more desperate and needy than you. she is an idiot who easily gets the most twisted and perverse ideas in her head, so you can expect a “gonna give me your puppies, baby?” from her <3

ningning wouldn’t want to be left out of the fun so she would be kneeling in front of you, presenting her cock to your eager mouth because all good puppies deserve a sweet and delicious candy as a reward for their good behavior! pretty thing becoming louder and whinier than you because you were seriously sucking her cock like it was candy, but it’s not like she’s complaining!

[paradise-dreams]

―⟡Love at First Mistake

ᡣ𐭩 Summary: Love is such a weird feeling yes? But what happened when fate added a little chaos?

ᡣ𐭩 characters: Housewardens

ᡣ𐭩 Warnings: Crack, Introvert Reader(Kalim, Vil, Idia’s part), Fluff, flustered boys

AN: My mind shuts down on me in Malleus’s part….

🌹Riddle Rosehearts

You honestly didn’t expect to make a fool out of yourself in front of the Heartslabyul Housewarden. Really! You were helping Ace and Deuce with painting the roses when all of sudden Grim being the little menace he is, decided to run around the maze! You chase him around the dorm until you tripped and fell on top of new painted roses…in front of Riddle. “Ah! I’m so sorry!” You spoke, quickly dusting yourself and bowing to him for apologizing for the mess.

Riddle himself was just staring at you with flustered cheeks. Why does his heart skip a beat when he sees you all embarrassed and apologetic? Why did he have the urge to go easy on you? It can’t be love at first sight right? He sighed. “Apology accepted but make sure to get yourself cleaned up.” He scolded you who nodded your head, thanking him before running off to get cleaned up with Grim in your arms. The Housewarden of Heartslabyul gently placed his hand on his heart..his heartbeat is racing. Yup. He is in love.

🦁Leona Kingscholar

If anyone told you that Leona has a secret soft spot for you, you will never believe them. So what is your biggest mistake? Easy..stepping on his tail without looking. It was your first day at NRC and you were just trying to familiarize yourself with the school and how it runs. When you walk in the Botanical Garden, admiring the plants when your foot steps on a certain lion’s tail. Yea…you wish you could watch where you are going huh? “Oh my sevens! I am so sorry for stepping on your tail!” You bow at him with an apologetic expression.

Leona himself was mad that you interrupted his nap but all in all, you were adorable when you were embarrassed. “Hmph. Next time watch here you are stepping,herbivore.” He spoke, opening one eye to look at you with his emerald eye. “I won’t hesitate to teach you a lesson if you do it again.” You nod, not wanting to cause problems this early and you rush out of here. ‘Hmm..what a strange herbivore.’ He thought as he closed his eyes but little did he know, his tail was wagging.

🐙Azul Ashegetto

Where to even begin? Your mistake is seeing Azul in his merfolk form and calling him adorable. Okay you were at Octavinelle at the monstro lounge, looking for Azul. But you can’t find him anywhere so you decide to go Jade because Floyd is gone doing GOD knows what. Jade told you that Azul might be at the beach so you thanked him and went to said beach. When you came here, you saw Azul in his merfolk form and poor Azul was just staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. After a long awkward staring contest, I don’t know what possessed you to do it but you call him adorable and squishy.

The poor man was so red and embarrassed that he accidentally inked you and ran off in the sea, leaving you both mortified and embarrassed. Does that make his heart race? Yes. Does he enjoy it? Yes. Will he admit it to you? NOT in a million years. Good job on embarrassing him though.

🐍Kalim Al-Asim

If the terms opposite attracts can be found and manifest in a single event, it’s this party in Scarabia. So you are invited to a party and since you didn’t want to upset him, you go anyway. That is not the mistake, no. Not at all. Your mistake..you confess during the most fun time of your life that Kalim is your sun to your moon. Ya are cheesy babes. You know you outed yourself when Jamil is giving you that knowing smirk.

There is no going back. You got Kalim to fall in love with you by a cheesy mistake. Hope you like being spoiled and praised rotten by the sunshine of Night Raven College.

👑Vil Schoenheit

I think the sevens really did pity you on this one,man. What is the mistake that you made? You, the cute introvert that you are outright say that you pick Vil over Neige any day. Cute right? Well…when you heard a familiar voice behind you. Yea babes Vil overheard you and the next thing everyone knew, you were out of the window.

Vil ain’t mad! Far from it actually. Now you need to hide from a certain hunter because Vil won’t let you go away without him not having his final word. Good luck…you're gonna need it.

💀Idia Shroud

I don’t know who I should feel bad for. You or him? I am gonna say both because Jesus. This is both of ya’s mistakes. You were sitting with Idia in his room, playing your games like it’s ordinary day. That is until you two made an indirect kiss with the same soda can. You two didn’t realize it until twenty minutes were up. If Hades sees Idia, he would have teased the poor boy relentlessly. You are the one who left first due to embarrassment and Idia?

Ortho had to comfort him. His face is red and his blue fire-like hair is pink like a cherry blossom. “That is such normie behavior! Are they trying to kill me?! Is this real?” Idia is in a panicked flustered mess. Does he like it? Yea. Does it make his heart go doki doki? Will he admit it to you?! HELL no. Good luck trying to get him to look you in the eyes.

🐉Malleus Draconia

For the Malleus lovers, I love you but what possessed you to say that you will marry Malleus during a stressful time? Did Lilia poison you with his cooking or something? It’s a mistake that makes this boy’s heart do backflips.

I have no words but to say that he is SCARED of losing you. Please hug him…he needs it.

~Taglist: @husky-studies @windblumewishes @bibiddibobiddi-boo @lissytszz @vera-deville

[nohhhdrr]

I love this so much more then the other thread to be honest. I mean i did cry but Tim never knew Danny was his soulmate. I'm not sure he ever knew he even had one. Tim was young at the time. No one explained anything to him. Maybe after finding some case of rejected soulmate going crazy and doing "if i can't have you no one can" he finds out bout the whole soulmate writing on your skin. Danny truly did fuck up. He was very affected emotionally and was hurting. So he lashed out. And considering he was 16 in this thread? (I'm not sure for how long he stayed antagonizing tim in the other one) Yep. I can see that. So both of them now grown up. Both supposedly having moved on from each other, right? But now adult tim (which i'm pretty sure means 21-25. Danny was affected by Tim's rejection for a very long time but these types of things can make you burn out. And after a second rejection? Yeah. Danny VERY hurt but ultimately he burned out. His brain just decided he can't spare any more energy on this emotional wreck of a ride) has to feel the rejection Danny felt all time when they were teens. I wanna see if it would drive him up the wall like it did to Danny back in the day or would Tim keep himself in his tight grip of self-control. Considering how unhinged (usually in a good way) Tim is on a normal day? Yeahhh... I think he would not handle it well. Especially if we remember how obsessive he was in his cloning days. (Actually, now that I think about it, what if because of the Tim's cloning thing the whole batfam (and probably Tim's team minus Tim and maybe Kon) think Kon was Tim's soulmate and that's why they never thought the possibility of this being why Danny was so obsessed with Tim in his teens?) I want the whole batfam clicking the pieces together while Tim is bluescreen-ing and obsessing in the back ground. Just Danny being "yeah my bad. yeah... sorry... yeah." and scratching the back of his head. Like HE moved on and for him it's just awkward and embarrassing now. Like how some boys had experience of being in the mind set of "nice guy" while having a crush a selebrity (and probably sending dm-s to that selebrity). THAT would be the level of embarrassment, awkward-ness and guilt he would feel. For danny? It's low stakes now. He got through it and now can finally look at the situation objectively, without the overwhelming amount of emotions clouding his judgement. Yeah it was his bad for lashing out and not communicating at all. There are a few hiccups and some pretty rash actions on batfam's side of things but overall? Yeah.. Sorry I was such a mess back then. It's okay if you don't forgive me. I did cause a lot of greif for all of you. I can give you all a few favors as compensation.

He doesn't even look at Tim anymore. He saw that he wasn't listening and decided to not waste time, just explain everything to his ex-soulmate's family and then go back to his lair.

He has his duties to fulfill (And if we want to hurt timmy more, we can have him taking care of his children (which magic community would supposedly know about. They didn't know HE was the king but they DID know about the new king and his children, for example) that just were cores of all the dead, terminated and or still cryo-sleeping clones that Vlad made back in the day. We can have him save each clone with the help of clockwork or only save those that were in cryo-pods to minimise the sheer amount of children he has to raise.)

Just Danny felling awkward and a bit guilty on his end while Tim is having to grapple with the overwhelming feelings of quiet rejection on his end. Danny did make Tim feel something while he was antagonizing him back then. But Tim? he would have no chance of doing the same now. Danny seen everything. Danny moved on

@gilbirda Ok, so you made a snippet of on of your AUs a while back (braindead rejected! soulmate i think) and I haven't been able to think of much else since. So my brain made a little thingy for you!

------------

1. Tim takes a risk one day by writing back to whoever was doodling on his body, with a glittery purple gel pen, asking them to stop trying to contacting him.

All the person asked was, "Why?"

Tim never answers.

2. Danny faces constant rejection from his peers, authority figures, his parents and sister neglect him and now his own soulmate doesn't want him. They hadn't even met before he was rejected. Jazz finds out about Dannys powers and tries to reach out but Danny rejects her pretty violently due to his own pain. Then the episode where Sam and Tucker ditch him for Gregor happens and he gives up.

The two people in his life that has had pretty much complete control over his life and trajectory just abandoned him and he does not take it well. He ripped the symbol off his chest, disappeared and never came back.

3. Danny zooms into a new dimension/universe/whatever to avoid his former friends and family from being able to track him only to land in a place called Central City and immediately getting roped into helping Captain Cold who gives him a normal domino mask and they end up working together for a while.

4. Danny somehow overhears one of the speedster talking on the phone about his friends brothers soulmate issue at some point and they perfectly describe the interaction that happened between Danny and his soulmate all those years ago, down to the glittery purple gel pen and the types of doodles Danny had made as a kid and the things he said.

Danny learned one of his soulmates belonged to a group of detective vigilantes in a place called Gotham. Unfortunately he was spotted by the speedster and Danny had to bounce.

5. The Flash made reports to the Justice League about a meta teen who hes been having trouble with for a while and can't seem to pin down. He only asked for tips though as he "could handle it himself."

6. Danny leaves for Gotham and learned about Catwoman and Batmans weird Master Thief and Greatest Detective dynamic and decided that's what he wants to do. He was going to make his soulmate chase after him one way or another. Someone was going to want him even if they were wanting him behind bars.

He begins robbing bank vaults and museums, leaving no trace or clue as to what happened until he starts leaving a calling card of sorts.

7. Jason, who's been on the outs with his family lately meets this spunky white haired meta kid running around with a sci-fi mask/visor thing and giving supplies to homeless encampments and keeping the less fortunate alive and befriends him. He learns that this is the guy everyone has been searching for and just...tells no one. Jason is all for a Robin Hood vigilante, and really, its kinda funny to see his family squirm.

8. Phantom and Catwoman rob the same museum at the same time but for different things. They stare at eachother from where they're both still crouched from thier respective landings until Danny breaks the tension with "I didn't see you if you didn't see me?"

Catwoman laughs, amused. "Sure."

9. Danny finally narrowed down which of the batfam is his soulmate and introduced himself to them as Phantom.

The first thing Danny did was hit on Tim. Tim is flustered but otherwise doesn't really respond to it and tries to fight Phantom into submission, so of course Danny ghosts him by disappearing through a roof mid fight. Danny made a big show of his intangibility in that fight and made it seem like it was the only power he had but he was very skilled with it and he wanted to impress him.

10. Phantom becomes well known to the underbelly of Gotham. Mostly the homeless and nightworkers. But Danny was open and friendly. Never judging and always ready to lend a helping hand. Even better. He never came to collect on favors.

Over time, they became loyal to him.

11. Danny gets framed for a series of murders and the whole gang (minus Hood) are trying to capture him, thus, motorcycle chase scene. They use the white of his tires to tell when he's gone intangible due to all the dirt falling off the wheels. Nightwing jumps onto the bike and shocks Danny with his encrizma sticks right before Danny grits out "bye bye birdy~" and makes a big show of taking in a deep breath and holding it.

Nightwing is forced to jump off the bike as Danny runs through the concrete abutment of the overpass and coming out the other side

12. Danny meets Tim and Duke in his civilian form while he was at a Wayne tech conference. Danny had been asked about one of his inventions and was trying to show off the blueprints and explain things and thats why he was there in the first place. Duke of course, was internally screaming because that's the guy thats the guy they've been hunting for nearly a year but can find nothing on.

Red Robin confronts Phantom that night on a rooftop and Phantom laughs at him, "Thats why I was avoiding Signal for so long. He'd see my magical girl form and know instantly."

RR holds out a pair of handcuffs and says "Its over Danny." Phantom smirks and says, "I don't think it is, Tim" before jumping off onto a different roof and disappearing into the night. Tim is shook.

13. Danny over hears Robin berating RR at an old clocktower and intervenes, "Little Wayne, you do realize you were the first person I figured out, right?"

Damian proceeds to lose his mind.

14. Tim accidentally finds a material that Phantom can't phase through and quickly gets to work making things he can use against Danny. What he doesn't know is that Danny can phase through it he just pretended he couldn't because he wanted to see what would happen/what Tim would do.

Danny can sense the material and it feels really wierd to him, but doesn't harm him at all.

15. RR manages to knock Phantoms visor off his face and realizing it was made of tech he swipes it and brings it back to the cave for study.

He wasn't ready for all the information on the computer. Not only was his nemesis(?) from another plain of reality (he thinks Danny is from the ghost zone) but he was once a superhero with his own Rogues Gallery and human city to protect. Which begs the question, why did he become a Phantom thief?

16. The Joker hears about Phantom giving the bats the run around and comes to a misunderstanding about which bat he's been messing with which ultimately ends with Joker saying that he is Batmans ultimate nemesis and Phantom asking what that had to do with him? The misunderstanding is cleared up when Phantom complained about Joker even thinking that he was flirting with Batman because "Ew! He's an old man!"

Joker still got a few shots in for the heck of it but so did our ghost boy but they were no longer enemies.

17. The whole batfam had been freaking out about finally capturing Phantom and celebrating and plotting on how they were gonna get him to keep his mouth shut about thier identities until Jason came in,

Jason: Need help?

Phantom: Please?

Jason: *escapes with Danny*

Batfam: What?! No!!! Why?!

18. The batfam have only a vague idea of the Robin Hood thing going on. They know he's doing it just not to the extent its gone to. They find out later on that Phantom had been working with RH and his gang to sell off the items and most of the profits go to helping people. Other times he strait up gives jewelry and whatnot to children and working girls because "Everyone deserves something pretty, and even if its not your style you can keep it for a rainy day"

Phantom quickly gains a following and Danny doesn't even know about it. Clueless indeed.

19. Dannys main motivation in this is essentially just playing Cops and Robbers with Red Robin. Nothing else really matters to him. Not the robberies, not the fact he's working with a crime lord, not even his own safety matters much to him anymore. Hes readily zooming down the path of self destruction and Hood starts telling his family stuff, but only because he was genuinely worried about "Casper" crashing and burning.

20. No one knows why Phantom is fixated on Red Robin. He refuses to tell them. Red thinks its just because he's the smartest of the bats and he's not entirely wrong.

21. Danny legit started scheduling his heists with Tim to ensure they're both free after one couldn't make it too many times which blew the birds mind. Phantom must have been just that confident that he would always win. The bats eventually think Danny will stop stealing if RR isn't in the city for a long period of time. Danny more or less followed him and stole stuff from whatever city Tim was in. If there wasn't any museums or banks then Danny would steal a local landmark. Tim still wasn't sure how Phantom stole an entire building that one time but it had never been seen since.

22. Hood grows to be very protective of our favorite ghost boy. They bond and are actually really close. Danny admits he always wanted an older brother.

23. Tim goes off world for a while to see how Danny would react and Danny just...drops off the radar. No one knows where he is and after a week or two they start getting worried.

Tim returns after three months and Danny reappears two weeks after him with a tan and keepsakes from the places he visited on his vacation. Tim later screams into his pillow.

24. Tim has made it his personal mission to figure out who Danny really is, why he's fixated on him, where he came from, ect. Hes trying so hard but can't find anything. Its almost like he didn't exist before. Tim suddenly got an idea after Phantom accidentally got hit in the face and got a nosebleed. Tim saw green blood and immediately realized Danny might not even be human. Fortunately for our little ghost, he thinks he's an alien. A Martian specifically. Tim manages to snag a good sample from treating Phantoms wounds. Ghostboy was so focus on his core thrumming and mentally comparing it to his heart racing that he didn't even notice.

25. Tim later freaks out because the meta is freaking made out of Lazarus water.

The entire batfam was not happy to discover this and decided to work together to pressure Phantom into telling them what he was and what exactly he wanted.

[yougavememyopia]

Part 1. I changed the header cause I used too many of the "anime boy gif" for crybaby, so that's just his thing now. Honestly, idk if you guys like slow paced better but here it is. Tags: Swearing. The L word. NSFW in the end, dry humping. The usual.

Popular yandere, who was politely sat with a cheerful smile. Eyes looking at your figure frantically picking up the trash and the clothes scattered around. He offered to help you a few times and insisted he was an excellent cleaner and would be of great help to you. But you turned him down—knowing you had plenty of dirty articles of clothing that were not the most appropriate to see.

You told him to wait outside. To save you the crippling embarrassment that might haunt you for years to come. It just never crossed your mind that a living, breathing human being would willingly want to be in a romantic relationship with you. If you went back in time to tell yourself someone super popular, so unbelievably hot, was head over heels for you—well, you'd probably tell yourself to fuck off. 

Nevertheless, you had no idea your procrastination would come back to bite you. This dude literally went on his knees and bawled his eyes out for you… YOU. The invisible outcast who had terrible social skills. Now he was sitting on your bed quietly, watching your every move with half-lidded eyes and a dreamy smile, hoping one of those dirty underwear would accidentally fall on his face.

You continued running around, shoving filthy things into random drawers to get the work done quicker. Yet it seemed like the work would never stop. Your desk filled with empty cans and mysterious stains. “Ohh, why is it so messy here?!” 

“I can wait.” He replied quickly. “I will wait as long as it takes, darling. I really do not mind.” 

You paused. A weird feeling in your chest when he called you that nickname. Did he really become your boyfriend just like that? It was going to take a while for you to get adjusted to his presence, let alone his nicknames. He really existed in the same room as you at the same time willingly. Wow.

“Uhhh, yeah. I'm, um, sorry you had to see that, I guess. I don't usually have guests.”

He smiled a bit too widely at that. Almost as if he was very pleased to hear that. Already possessive of you when you only started dating a few hours ago. 

Taking a seat beside him, you awkwardly shifted on your familiar mattress and leaned back to the headboard of your bed. Failing to make any kind of eye contact. His gaze was so intense—it made you feel all tingly and confused. You started feeling conscious of yourself, wondering where to put your hands and if you should cross your legs or put them on your head. He was so flawless and proper, it made you a lot nervous.

“I wanted to thank you.” He spoke carefully. “I know you have trust issues, but I promise that I will NEVER be untrue.” You gulped involuntarily when he scooted closer; his aromatic smell wafted in the air. His pinkie entangled with yours, a childish gesture of commitment. His eyes widened slightly, and a glint of madness sparked in his eyes. “This feels right. As if it was meant to happen. I have never felt anything like this before. I want to do anything you ask. Whatever it takes to make sure you stay with me forever… Which should not be hard to do since no one else cares about you.”

“Should I be offended or question why that kinda turns me on?” Your brows furrowed at the last hushed part. You thought those condescending words were a bit out of character for him. But what do you know? The mask he kept around others was not there in your presence. 

It really didn't matter that he was a controlling, unstable maniac. It was hot actually. The way he threatened you with his love, the turmoil, his clinginess. He was like your own personal 'build a crazy boyfriend'.

His fingers intertwined with yours while he scooted closer to hover over your lap. Hands holding yours down, breath hitting your ear, lips parted to speak in a low, threatening tone. Heat going straight to your core. “You are never leaving me. I will make sure of it. We are made for each other. It was fate! You cannot go against fate, right?

His voice sent a tingle through your body. A mix of chilling fear and, unsurprisingly, arousal from the warning. You'd always fantasized about things like this. A guy straddling your lap. On your bed. Moaning noisily as he made out with you, tugging at the hair behind your neck while he tried to suck the air out of your lungs. You felt wetness down there, like you creamed your pants or maybe it was merely the sticky sweat or rather both.

He was more obsessed and unhinged than any normal person you'd seen on the television— your relationship strange. But beggars couldn't be choosers, could they? Your perverted dreams were finally being fulfilled. Images of him dressed in lewd cute outfits, calling you various nicknames with his angelic voice, and begging for mercy when you stick a vibrator in his— Maybe you spent too much time in incognito. Yeah, definitely.

“Not to complain, or whatever. But isn't this moving a bit too fast? Shouldn't we, I don't know, slow down? And I can... go to the bathroom for a while.” You needed a chance to breathe, to scream into your hands and take a very, very long shower with how much you were sweating.

He pulled away to scowl. You never considered you'd get to see so many expressions in the span of your first day of dating. It almost made you proud. “TOO FAST?!?”

You swallowed, feeling like a spouse that forgot the other's birthday. He was acting as if you had said something outrageous. “Uhh… it's literally been a few hours. Plus, I need to check on my roblox games. Login streaks are the only achievement you need, am I right? Haha...” You awkwardly laughed while his expression remained unwavering. "Just kidding... I'm actually not that good but now I'm addicted, so..."

He opened his mouth but quickly closed it. What a tragic loser. (He can fix you. He will eventually!) He was always such a patient person—that was what the others told him. He was a good listener. A good comforter. Able to keep his mask of empathy and smiles. But with you… He felt selfish. Not really interested in what you wanted or if you felt overwhelmed. It was wrong of him; he understood that, yet at the same time, he couldn't bother to keep up his act. 

You went rambling on about your games. The daily logins, the online friends you had, the events... He bit his lip, holding back from screaming how many long, torturous months he stalked you, the illegal things he did in your name to fill the dark hole in his heart, and how exhausted he felt even after you believed him. You took your phone out of your pocket, his eyes sending jealous daggers to the device. Seriously? His competition was a machine?

"I'm not, like, gonna take long. I just... need to play for five minutes. If you don't mind..."

Of course he minded. What about his kisses? Your attention?!? He had a habit of not speaking his mind, and it would take practice to break the reinforced manner. Since you liked playing so much, he settled for a mind game. Something he quite liked doing to others when he felt bored. Something he had gotten really good at over the years. This time he'd take his performance up a notch. 

Tears welled up in his eyes, his hands leaving yours cold as he sat to the side. He could see the disappointment in your body language, your fingertips tightening their grip on the phone. He was quite good at picking up things like that. In a slumped position, he tilted his head down, blinking owlishly. Pitiful droplets running down his cheeks. He sniffled, “I humiliated myself. In front of everyone I knew. Are you saying it was not enough? That I am not enough?”

Your heart dropped when you saw him cry because of you. He looked beautiful doing anything. The mascara running down his perfect skin, how he chewed on his rosey lips and fidgeted with his long, flexible fingers—you almost forgot to respond. “Uh, what? No. No, I wasn't suggesting… What? I... Shit, my death count...”

His horrible desperation didn't take long to come out. Arms grabbing your shoulders, shoving you down, turning off the phone and throwing it across the room. "Hey! What the fuck? My precious phone..."

The longer he waited, the more impatient he got. He laid down beside you, burning his eyes into your avoidant one. You made him feel unlike his usual self; he didn't like it. Having to beg and cry for a simple touch was new. You had some nerve, playing hard to get when you were… YOU.

“Why do you treat the only guy who will ever love you this way? Why can't you play with me instead, darling...? I can be far more entertaining for you. I'm yours too.” He whispered while tugging on your collar, getting frustrated by how you kept looking away. “Please… Please look at me… Please just f-fucking look at me already!”

Finally, you made eye contact, his high-pitched tone grabbing your attention. He was crying again—genuinely this time. Not like you could tell the difference. “You swear now? I like it.” You joked, face flushed. He buried his face in your chest, pressing his body against yours and sobbing pathetically. 

You exhaled, hearing the echoing drumbeat of your heart. Your breath shaky when you felt just how soft his hair was. Running your fingers through his feathery hair, never much of a comforter. You were starting to learn from this recurrent event. “Shit. It's okay… We can go back to, um, what we were doing, y-yeah? Cause we're actually dating, heh. Dating. Funny word.” 

Shivers violently penetrated your body when his lips crashed into yours in a heated kiss. What was this guy's problem? One moment he acted like that perfect gentleman, and the next like some sort of needy dog. His lips moved desperately with yours; his tongue plunging in your mouth to lick and taste everywhere. His hand around your wrist, assisting you to stroke his hot, toned body under his clothes. Whining, “Yeah, yeah, don't stop, please… It feels sososo good. Please. I need more, more, more, more… I love this. I love you!” 

“Huh? S-sorry? What did you…” The room was spinning, your words slurring as he started unbuttoning his shirt. Clumsily and hurried. His skin feverish to touch, rubbing and pushing his lower half against yours absentmindedly. Your attention was drawn downwards, distracted, struggling to think about the words he whimpered before. "I'm literally gonna pass out. After all the late nights watching hentai, I get to see a real-"

He cut you off with a needy kiss, not happy with how you liked a lot of fictional characters. If it couldn't be helped, he merely had to distract you—puting your hand on his nicely-shaped ass and hope you get the gist and squeeze. Noisy groans and moans filling the small room while he shared his spit with yours. He knew you read smut from your phone activity, and he wanted to play the part for you. Make you feel so unbelievably good, you'd get addicted just like he was. That way you'd never go back to your stupid intelligent box.

"Can I continue rubbing my c-cock against you...? Pretty please? It throbs and aches for you. See this power over me, darling...? It's all for you. I need you. I have never felt so ha... hard. Nngh! Please, let me..."

He placed your leg over his hip to find a better, satisfying angle. Moving faster and faster when you nodded. Repeatedly saying your name like a prayer, whispering how close he was, climaxing right after you. The wet part of your fronts still rubbing against eachother after coming. Panting against your lips, he licked up the drool at the corner of your mouth. The heat was too much. The pleasure was too much.

His face buried back in your neck, holding you tightly, content and pleased. He would've loved to do more, perhaps undress you, feel your unclothed chest against his, see what you hide underneath your baggy dark clothes. The thought of it already exciting him. But when he looked back up, you were unconscious.

[heartzfromlizzy]

answering these fun questions! tw: mentions of mental health and serious stuff! don't read if you don't like it when people get serious! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

1. i don't hate them, but sunsets sometimes make me sad. maybe because the idea of a fun day ending just hurts me a little bit. (sometimes my brain is negative and stupid and likes to think of everything good in my life ending so.. that's fun.) when my brain is NOT torturing me, sunsets are very pretty to watch. i love just being out and about and seeing the sky slowly go dimmer. its so pretty, although i do like sunrises more!

2. oh gosh.. when i was younger, i had a huge lying problem, but at the same time, i was also delusional due to my mental health disorder, schizophrenia. so sadly, yes. i started many rumors mainly about myself to feel better about my life and to pretend things weren't the way they were. i am now mentally doing so much better, and i know what's real and what's not and i'm okay with it!

3. caseoh. literally caseoh. for those who don't know, caseoh is a twitch streamer, and he is hilarious. he just has a certain ability to just light up everybody in chat and make them all smile and laugh. i watch him SO MUCH. i encourage watching his re-uploads on youtube rather than watching them on twitch because twitch is annoying and not very safe.

4. HAA. i'm broke and i have not been to concerts.

5. right now, id want to be a dolphin!

6. what? im sorry im dumb and don't understand this question.

7. a black and grey shirt with the words "let me sleep" in white on it. there's also a pair of sleepy eyes. its kinda messed up, and the words are coming off but its still cozy.

8. ngl food.

9. i love these gold and white sandals. they look fancy and have flowers on them, but i do not wear them all day due to it being uncomfty.

10. taking me out to a restaurant of my choice. 😭

11. trying, caring, Christian!

12. one time i was at this outside festival and there were these booths and stands of people, y'know selling stuff and advertising things. well, one of them had these pretzels and stuff out, and i literally, for some reason, without asking, just grabbed a pretzel because i thought they were samples and everyone was basically staring at me and i was very embarrassed. my parents were prob embarrassed the most. also, no, the pretzel wasn't good, obvi it was stale. (;_;)

13. lol, no, i don't happen to drink!

14. dialysis boxes in my room for storage as a teen. :,)

15. well, i do happen to believe in God, and i practice Christianity! i don't know if that's exactly the same as a superstition? i could be wrong, lolz!

16. listening to asmrs. :,))

17. talk to myself, reenact/movie scenes/show scenes/youtube videos, dance randomly.

18. wasabi. does that count as a food or more of a dip? IT'S DISGUSTING.

19. HA.. ha.. i love so many fictional characters, so idk. maybe baymax from big hero 6? he's sweet and he's a doctor, also he's huggable!

20. to work at this local restaurant in my area called, "juniors!"

21. God, music, my loved ones, food, thinking of fun stuff to do!

22. rambley review by uniqueness! (its a song from a game!)

23. AT the top of my head, im not sure, but ik me and one of my closest friends have so many inside jokes.

24. probably one of my bracelets! i have so many..

25. doctor who!! depending on where i am or what app im using its not very talked about!

26. so many.. wow. here, i'll list a few! indigo park, fnaf, doctor who, rwby, attack on titan, demon slayer, disney, pixar, kung fu panda, marble hornets, marvel, undertale, omori!

27. ahh id rather just sit this one out but here's a lil joke controversial take, RORY FROM DOCTOR WHO DESERVED BETTER CHANGE MY MIND.

28. ive been watching rwby a lot lately so I'll list some of my favorite ships from the show! blacksun, arkos, renora, emery!

29. i do have ear piercings! i do not have any tattoos!

30. worst is probably that i struggle with self-control. the best is probably that i strive to be good, kind, and loving.

Deep/Fun Questions to Ask!

Do you like watching sunsets?

Have you ever started a rumor?

What makes you laugh hard?

What's the last concert you went to?

If you believed in it, what would you be reincarnated to?

What's your current vocal stim?

What shirt are you wearing?

Who or what is on your mind?

What are your favorite pair of shoes?

What would easily win you over if someone gave you it?

What three words describe you?

What's a funny memory you have?

Do you have any drunk stories?

What's one thing you own that you're sure no one else has?

Do you have any superstitions?

What is your guilty pleasure?

What weird thing do you do when you're alone?

What is the worst food you've ever had?

What fictional character would you bring to life if you could?

If you could join a career immediately, what would it be?

What keeps you going during the day?

Current song on repeat?

Funniest inside joke?

What's your favorite piece of jewelry you own?

Favorite niche topic?

What fandom are you currently in?

Most controversial take?

Favorite ship and why?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos, and what are they?

What is your worst & best quality?

[goorgeousz]

girl crush | aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader summary: beth is coming back from hong kong and you feel like hotch’s feelings are slipping away, so you decide to do it first. content/tw: brace yourself, it’s a long one! established relationship, beth’s coming back, jealous!reader, oblivious!hotch, dave being a father figure (love him), very angsty (at least my attempt), alcohol consuming (barely), lots of crying, happy ending, lmk if i missed something! word count: 7.3k (stfu challenge level impossible) a/n: based on this request! this one goes for my people who feel like they have to remove themselves from the situation for things to be okay. know that you are important, wanted and loved! if you ever had a girl crush, sending you an extra hug and much love! hope you like this one💗🪽 dividers by @uzmacchiato

masterlist

The smell of bacon and toast fills the air even before you step into the kitchen. 

Aaron is there, scrambling eggs with his shirt still unbuttoned and his hair damp from the shower. He glances up when you step in, already dressed up “Didn’t have time to make coffee.” he explains, nodding to the empty coffee pot plugged on the counter behind him. You shake your head, squinting your eyes at his face.

“Aren’t you at least a little bit embarrassed?” you tease, already starting to brew the coffee beans. It has been almost a year since he bought it – following your suggestion – and he never even cared to learn how to use it. Not that he needed to, really. You were always there to do it for him.

He pressed his lips together in a mocking reflective expression, just to shrug his shoulders “Not really, no.” you just chuckle as the two of you move in sync to finish preparing breakfast.

Just as the eggs were ready, his phone rang all the way to his bedroom. As an old man who still hadn’t created the urge to be glued to his phone 24/7, you took over the bacon pan as he faded into the hallway to pick up.

You were so focused on your task you didn’t realize he was taking too long. It wasn’t until you filled both of your plates and mugs that you noticed he didn’t come back. Your first reaction was too tense, to go after him and check what was wrong, but soon after you heard his laugh, loud and strong, making its way towards you. So, no emergencies.

Sensing it was probably Sean, your boyfriend’s brother, or maybe Rossi with a gossip – something you learnt after you started dating Hotch: the two older men at the BAU were gossipers. Penelope Garcia level gossiper – you stayed back, giving them privacy to chat. Ignoring all the etiquette lessons you had, you started eating alone. At least one of you should enjoy the warm food.

Just when you took the last bite you heard him stepping back into the kitchen, a ghost of a smile still present on his face “Hey, you chatty” you teased. He chuckled, sitting beside you on the stoll and drinking a sip of coffee “Who was it?” your curiosity got the best of you, even though you knew he was going to tell you either way.

“Beth!”

Oh.

“Oh”

“Yeah.” he agrees, taking a bite of the toast, completely oblivious to the gut wrenching feeling taking over your senses “She called me to say she’s coming back. From Hong Kong.”

Oh (but harder).

“That’s… good?”

“It’s great! She got to transfer back for a promotion, with a higher salary and getting to be close to her family.” he explains, sounding way too pleased with himself.

“She rocks.” you cringe immediately, not knowing what the hell you meant by that.

“Right?” fortunately – or not, that’s up to the eye of the beholder – he remained completely clueless to your awkwardness. “Jack’s going to lose it when he hears it.” he said, chuckling to himself.

You hate how hearing this makes you twice as jealous.

“Y’think Jack remembers her?” you wonder, pretending to be unbothered as you wash your dishes in a way to distract yourself. He stays silent for a second, and you hope he’s not picking up on your selfish rotting for the worse.

“He does. Last time she face-timed me, Jack took over half the call.” he says, his voice suddenly closer to you. He takes the dishes from your hand, gently pushing you to the side “That’s on me.” he points kindly, taking over the dishes. You step away, hoping he didn’t feel the sound of your heart breaking.

They face-time each other? Is Jack a part of this? By the way he said it, it seems like a frequent occurrence. Where were you all those times? How could you miss that?

Is this cheating? Objectively speaking, if it was cheating he probably wouldn’t be so blunt about it. And he’s probably the most loyal person you know.

So why does it feel like cheating? Why do you feel betrayed? Why do you feel so jealous?

Trying to take a hold of the situation, you fight to appear normal, trying your best to hide your anxiousness and all of self-doubt, at least while you figure your feelings out. Otherwise you’d probably end up locked in a mental asylum.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It turned out the mental asylum would probably be a nicer place to be than your own head right now.

As the day passed by, you started to notice how excited Aaron was for Beth’s arrival. If you missed their calls before, you definitely weren’t now. Every other day you stumbled on him somewhere in the house, his phone balanced between his shoulder and his ear while he finished a task.

When it wasn’t the calls, it was the texting. He would send her pictures about things she liked and places she missed. She would always send a picture of everything that was different over there, ask silly questions about the job or about Jack. 

And Jack was a whole other problem. Not a problem, actually. But his obvious adoration towards the woman made you bitter. You found yourself losing your appetite more often than not every time Jack asked about her in the middle of dinner or lunch. Which was a horror on its own, but it was even worse because every time he did it, soon after the meal ended Hotch would call her to tell her about it.

You felt like an outsider.

The worst part was that it wasn’t even their fault. Everytime you walked by him, he asked you to join the call, pulling you to sit with him and chat with the woman on the other side of the screen. She would ask about you, about your likes and dislikes. She would joke about Hotch, about his sleep myoclonus, about his ability to fall asleep in the first few minutes of a movie.  You laughed with her, making fun of his antic habits as if sharing that with her didn’t feel like a knife in your gut. 

When she finally came back, it was, somehow, worse.

Hotch insisted that you’d tag along on their catching ups, you hang with them as she went out with the team. You had playdates with her and Jack.

It was now safe to say: you hated Beth. And you were completely obsessed with her.

You watched the way she spoke, the way she dressed. How she smiled, how she laughed. The exact color of her lipstick, her haircut. 

When her nails were perfectly made. She was so elegant. You started doing your nails weekly.

Next time you saw her, her nails were chipped and two of them were broken. She was so carefree. You cancelled your membership at the nail salon.

One would think Beth was a frequent character in Hotch's life. She really wasn’t. With all the cases, Jack and his relationship with you, he barely had time to actually hang out with Beth. But there was no point, and the damage was made.

Ever since he took that call, she made her way into your head, building her own little house with a balcony and a white fence. Even if she wasn’t around, your mind made sure to think about her. You hated hearing her name, but you secretly hoped it would come up in the middle of the conversation.

When his phone rang, you braced yourself, preparing for that gut wrenching pain you were oh, so familiar with. 9 out of 10 times, it wasn’t her. But 1 out of ten times, it was. And when you hear him calling her name, smiling easily at the speaker like she was seeing him, you felt your world fall apart, and what a comforting sensation that was.

You had no idea how you could crave someone as much as you craved her.

You wanted her gone.

The thought came to you out of nowhere, in the middle of the night. You were sleeping on his bed – almost yours by now – and his body involuntarily jerked. And there it was: another sleepless night. You were reminded of her, and now you were cursed to spend the rest of the evening wondering if she slept on the same side of the bed you were in, on how she would react. Would she laugh? Would she wake him? Would she pretend she didn’t see it?

It was maddening. It had to stop.

It wasn’t going to stop. You had to get out of this.

When the thought came, it stayed. You haven’t thought about it before, but you knew it. It had to be done. There was no way you would survive this. There was no way you could compete with this, with her. They understood each other to a degree you could never. They were the same age, and had the same references. They were both divorced, they had experiences you still haven’t had. You hated being outside of their inside jokes, even if said jokes were whatever was fashion in the 70’s.

Truth to be told, you wouldn’t even be with him if she hadn’t moved out of the country. And now she was back, reclaiming her old apartment, her athletic habits and his heart.

You weren’t dumb. You could see he loved you. But he loved her too. And you wouldn’t settle for half. Even if it killed you inside.

Besides being younger than Aaron – and Beth – you were very mature. Mature enough to understand that you shouldn’t make a big deal out of this. You knew, usually, the right thing to do was to talk about your feelings. To explain where you were coming from and make changes in order to keep the relationship alive.

But how could you go to the man you loved and beg him to not fall back in love with his ex? What exactly do you want to achieve by talking to him about it? He wasn’t doing anything wrong, you know that much. He would probably just stop talking to her ‘if it meant not making you insecure’, but you know very well how that would turn out. You didn’t want it to end with a fight, and you didn’t want to feel like you had to put up a fight to keep the man you love. You didn’t deserve that, and neither did him.

So, piece by piece, you started to make your way out of Aaron’s life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You usually spent the majority of your time in his place. And you started to change that, slowly starting to spend more time in your rented apartment than in his. Piece by piece, you started to move back your clothes. First a blouse, then a pajama. Evolving to your dresses, shoes, and your products.

It was going by unnoticed, until after you moved almost all the products on your side of his bathroom’s cabinet. A wednesday morning, while getting ready to work, you opened it to find everything back where they belonged.

You stayed there, shocked for a few seconds, your heart racing. The toothbrush inside your mouth is frozen, the minty foam starting to burn your gums. Aaron stepped on the bathroom behind you, fixing his cufflinks and looking at you through the mirror.

“Oh, I saw you ran out of them.” he explained, casually pointing at the new stack of products, completely unaware of your mind short circuiting “You didn’t restock, but I remembered them from last time. I had to go to the drugstore anyway.” he shrugged, reaching for his cologne and stepping out like he didn’t just shatter your whole world.

Later, when your tears smudged your mascara, you just said you choked with the mouthwash.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After a while, you’d spent so much time on your own place that Aaron started to miss you. Not only that, he questioned it. One specific morning, you were in the shared kitchen in the BAU mixing a bowl of yogurt with cereals and fruits when you felt a pair of large hands clinging to your hips. Yelping in surprise, you turned to face your boyfriend.

“Hey, you scared me.” you chuckled, picking up the bowl to put something between the two of you.

“I miss you.” he said, simply. He wasn’t whining, or complaining, or even trying to talk you out of your devious plan – not that he knew about it. He was just stating a fact, as clear as the day, the same way and tone he announced a profile or call a meeting.

Not knowing what to answer without breaking into tears, you stuffed a spoon full of greek yogurt, granola and strawberries into your mouth. While you did it, you mumbled something he couldn’t comprehend. Figuring you said you missed him too, he just moved on, leaning over your head to reach for the cabinet.

“Can I take you out for dinner tonight?” he asked, grabbing the freshly made coffee and filing his mug “It’s been a while since we left the house.”

You swoon at him, taking a deep breath before answering “It has. But I have plans.” you grimaced “Girls night.” you explained, chewing on the granola for longer than needed.

Aaron stopped for a second, his steaming mug already halfway to his lips. “Oh.” He wasn’t the kind of boyfriend to be in the way of your life, but he usually was aware of your plans. Not in a controlling way, but by knowing you, talking to you. And he was just realizing how it felt not knowing. He hated it. Not being a man to give up, he quickly came up with another idea “I can make you that BLT you like while you get ready.” not seeing you immediately jump with joy – as you usually do when BLT is mentioned – he suggested “Or we can stop at McDonalds drive-thru when I pick you up later.” 

Your heart did a backflip and shattered in a thousand pieces with the sight of his puppy eyes, expectantly looking at you.

“Oh that sounds lovely. But the bar we’re heading it’s the one across the street from my building. We’re walking there.” you explain, placing a hand on his chest gently, fixing the lapels of his suit. He looked down at your hands, fighting the urge to pull you by his arms and lock you in there. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but his gut knew something didn’t sit right.

“Text me when you get there. And when you get home.” he says, more a statement than a request. Your safety was not negotiable. You nodded, stepping closer to him and giving him a quick peck on the side of his jaw.

“I promise!” and you meant it, winking at him as you move to leave the kitchen.

Just as you step outside the perimeter, you almost bump into Rossi, who’s just standing there with his hands buried in his pockets and his eyebrow raised so high it was almost blending his hairline. Not ready to handle his piercing gaze – knowing you’d crumble at the first couple minutes –, you just nodded and gave him one of your best polite smiles, speeding your pace all the way to your desk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After you knocked twice on the office door, you stared at the words “David Rossi” engraved on the metal platter in its center as you waited for him to open.

When he did, you were surprised to see his office drowned in low light coming from the lamp on his desk and the moonlight peeking through the widow.

“You wanted to see me?” it meant as a statement: he did ask to see you. At first, you were sure it had something to do with the case you were consulting, the topic you and him were talking about during dinner. What confused you was that the setting looked anything but professional, if the expensive bourbon bottle and the two glasses sitting on the table wasn’t enough of a tell.

“Yes. Come in.” he said, waiting for you to walk into the office to close the door. You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for him to take the lead. Unaware – or, most probably, choosing to ignore – your startled state, he slowly made his way to the couch on the back of the room, filling up both glasses before sitting comfortably.

Taking one of the glasses, you sat beside him, pressing your lips together and trying not to bounce your leg to ease the tension.

“How was girls night?” Rossi asks, raising his glass to his lips. He didn’t even look at you as he waited for your answer, his tone almost mocking you.

Having absolutely no idea what he was going with this, you decided to play along “It was fun.”

He nodded “I see.” You took a sip of your drink, trying to keep your posture. It didn’t work. As soon as the burning liquid settled in your stomach, you turned to face him. Terrible idea.

“Dave, what’s going on? What is this?”

“You know,” he started, completely ignoring your question “People may think about profiling as a criminal study. They think we have to learn about psychopaths, stressors, geography, and criminal patterns. That it’s about getting in the mind of crazy people and figuring them out.”

“And it isn’t?” you blinked, drowned by his speech.

“Oh, definitely. But it’s not just that. It’s about studying people. Feelings, motivations. Learning, understanding their behaviour and using it to figure out their intentions.”

And that’s when it hit you: he knew.

“We have an unspoken policy in the BAU: not profiling each other.” he began, turning his body to face you.

“So why are you profiling me?” you asked, voice edging and uneasy, desperately trying to stop him from putting into words. He ignored it.

“You’re breaking up with him.” Not a question, not a suggestion, and definitely not a doubt. “I know what this is about. Who this is about.” your chewed on your bottom lip, deciding on what to say.

“Please, don’t try to talk me out of it.” you beg, hating how weak your own voice sounds. He took another long and lazy sip, and you watched as the liquid clinged to his lips, the wet reflecting the low light of the lamp.

“I won’t.” he stared at you, his eyes squinting slightly “I’m here to encourage you.”

You frowned, your eyebrows pinching together “What?”

“Yes. You really should break up with him. You know, if you’re in such an unbearable relationship.” You roll your eyes, tilting your head back.

“Stop.”

“No, seriously. Do you think he’s what? Cheating on you with Beth?”

“What? That’s not what this is about. I know he’s not cheating.” you defend yourself, cringing at the topic of the discussion.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m just…” your eyes burn with tears harder than the liquid on your throat when you down the rest of the bourbon before continuing “I’m not her.”

“You sure? Under this specific light I could’ve swore…”

“Dave!” you whine, and he chuckles.

“Yes, you’re not Beth.” you grimace at her name, not bothering to hide your feelings anymore “Why are you saying this as a bad thing?”

“Because it is. She’s back now and…” you feel a tear striking down your cheek as you gesticulate “She just fits. She gets him.”

“And you don’t?”

You sigh “You must think I sound really stupid.”

“Oh, you sound absolutely ridiculous.” you look at him, looking at a smirk on his face. Before you realize it, you’re laughing as well, but in a weak and depressed way “Love does this to us. Make us blind to the obvious. Clouds our judgement and turns us into…” he gesticulates towards you. You roll your eyes, but you’re not crying anymore “I have three divorces, so you’d think I know one thing or two about failed relationships. And let me tell you: yours isn’t one of them.”

“You’re just saying this because you’re his best friend.”

“I’m saying this because I love you.” he stated bluntly, and you widened your eyes in surprise, not expecting this. “And it'll kill me to see you do something I know you’ll regret later.” he leaned closer, looking at you with a paternal love that made you uneasy “Hotch loves you, kid. Don’t try to assume things. Let him know.”

“It’s hard.”

“I know it is. It has to be, don’t you think?” he smiles, the wrinkle on the corner of his eyes enhancing his passion towards the subject “Or else is not worth it. But talk to him. You know him more than I do, but I’m pretty sure you’re seeing things out of a place of hurt, probably past experiences.” he nod his head in a knowing gesture “From what I see, you’re out of your mind if you think that Hotch would ever consider living his life away from you.”

You only notice the tear streaming down your cheeks like a waterfall when his fingers gently wipe them away.

“Sorry.” you mumble, and he shakes his head.

“Listen, if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t. It’ll be fine too. You’ll be fine. But just don’t let it all go to waste before at least giving him a chance.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It got to a point where you had to stop for a second to wipe the sweat out of your eyelids to see. By the time you reached your – Aaron’s – front door, your heartbeat had lowered to a normal rhythm and your skin was now cold rather than wet. You spent almost the entire night awake, tossing and turning on the bed. The night went so late it was almost morning, so you figured it made more sense to just get up and do something other than to lay in the dark with nothing but your loud and torturous mind.

Running, these past few weeks, were your loyal ally to your early mornings. That specific day, you just got back from an over two hour long run, finally feeling your limbs hurting more than your heart. As you walked in, you were surprised to find Aaron pacing around the living room, something crumpled up on one of his fist, a piece of paper in the other.

When he looked at you, his face was everything but stoic: he looked panicked, tortured, confused and, overall, hurting. “We need to talk” he said, quietly. If you listened closely, you could hear the way his voice wobbled in the middle of the sentence, like he didn’t actually want to talk. Like he wanted you to just be confused, and just ask what he meant by that, and that you weren’t being distant, he was just paranoid. Anything that could prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that you weren’t, in fact, leaving.

Despite all his silent wishes you just nodded, making your way to the couch “Yeah, we do.”

Hoping the sound of his heart shattering wasn't loud enough for you to hear, he made his way to the couch in front of you, distant enough for him to think clearly – as much as possible, under the circumstances. For a minute you just stared at each other, the weight of everything unsaid so heavy it could suffocate.

You glanced down at his hands, still not managing to understand what he was holding so tight on his fist. On the other hand, you could finally see what it was. Before you left the house that morning, already planning on staying out for long, you wrote him a note with the steps to use the coffee pot.

“Before we start,” he began, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat before continuing “I already know. So there’s no need to lie.” you gulp, shifting in your seat. You never lied to him before, but it was fair of him to point it  out. You weren’t being exactly honest. And even though you knew what he was talking about, it still surprised you when he finally said it out loud “When exactly you were planning on breaking up with me?”

Your breath hitched, panic rushing through your veins. It didn’t matter that you still weren't sure about what to do, there was no point in lying. Not anymore. It hurt you to think about it, but actually admitting to him was a whole other level of pain.

“I don’t know.” you answer weakly.

He blinks. And then chuckles.

When he dips his head down, you stare at him confused. The only thing you catch is the way his head shakes slightly, his fists flexing but never letting go of your note and the other white soft – looks fluffy? Is it a stress relief ball? – thing. Aaron tilts his head up and his eyes are full of tears. They are shiny and reddish, and you want nothing more than to make it all go away.

“Hotch,” you try, because just watching him crumble in front of you is not an option.

“Jesus! Stop calling me that.” he spat, frowning.

“Your name?”

“That’s not my name. Not to you. Not in here.” he adverts, the pain muffling the anger in his tone.

You chew on your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall from your eyes. Sniffing as quietly as possible, you look at him “Do you think this is easy for me?”

“It must be!” he says, barely containing himself, “You’re doing it all behind my back, vanishing from my life little by little, until all I have left is an empty drawer with nothing but this shirt and a coffee pot I don't know how to use.” and you finally understand what he was holding on so tightly. It’s a plain silky pajama shirt. It’s the only piece of clothing because it’s matching short you – he – ended up tearing it in half on the first night you wore it.

“I left you instructions.” you point to the paper in his other hand.

“I don’t want to learn.” he looks disgusted at the paper, like it personally offended him “I’m not learning how to use it.” he emphasizes.

You try again “It’s not that hard.”

“I won’t.” 

That discussion was pointless, anyway. It is something to cling onto while avoiding the main issue. Sighing deeply in order to avoid crying, you change the subject “Listen, it’s nothing with you. It’s me.” you snort at that, because it’s that old cheesy and shitty excuse. But it’s the truth. “I’m just…” it’s all you manage to say before the tears blur your vision and you have to dip your head down to try and wipe them away.

His voice filled your ears, making you glance up to face him again. “I noticed that you weren’t being yourself, but I figured you’d tell me. It was something from work, or your family. I didn’t think it was this. It was us.” his voice weakens, and he has to gulp before continuing “Aren’t you happy anymore?” 

“I… there’s a lot going on.”  you feel your nose burning, and you stop caring if he sees the tears streaming down your face.

“Tell me what I did.” his demeanor changes, and he doesn’t look sad and confused anymore. He sounds energetic, urgent, demanding and begging all together “Tell me where I got it wrong, i can change it. I’ll do it right. I’ll do it better.”

Hearing this, combined with the raw desperation on his voice, so opposite from his usual calm and steady behavior, only makes you cry harder, and you don’t even try to wipe them away.

“You did nothing wrong. Nothing. I don’t want you to change. I just…” a strangled hiccup interrupted your speech, and you feel ridiculous, weak, dramatic and lonely. You want this to end, but also you want this to have never happened. “I shouldn’t feel this way in a relationship.”

He nodded, thinking. When Aaron speaks again, his voice is much calmer. Resignated, even. “So that’s it, then? You have your mind made up? Nothing I say will change it.” and it’s not a question anymore.

“I’m doing this for you, I want nothing more than what’s best for you.”

“Bullshit.”  he snapped, his words startling you “Why are you doing this? Is it the job? You said it’s not me. Is it Jack? Is this life too much for you? The responsibility of…”

“What? Of course not!” your heart aches thinking about it. It hurts that he thinks this, but you have no one but yourself to blame “I love Jack. I love our… this life.” 

He stays silent for a second, as if analyzing your explanation — or lack thereof. “Is it someone else?” you stop, and blinks. This is it. You won’t lie straight to his face. He stiffens, and it doesn’t need another word from you to understand. “Who is him?”

“Him?” you frown in the middle of your tears, so confused you stopped crying. “What do you mean?” 

“You said there was someone else.” he squinted his eyes at you.

“I didn’t, you did.” 

“You didn’t deny it. Who is he?” he insisted, his jaw tensed.

“Who do you think I am?” you asked, actually aggravated at his accusations “I would  never…” 

“Who is he?” he interrupts you, his eyes burning holes in your head.

“There's no he. It’s Beth.” 

Hotch’s jaw is immediately unlocked at that, the anger and betrayal completely subsided by complete shock and confusion. “What? You and… Beth?”

“Huh?” you were the one left in confusion now. How did he get to that conclusion? For a second, you didn’t feel the excruciating pain and humiliation from admitting your feelings to him “No. You and Beth.”

“What do I have to do with this?” he asks, his confusion turning to aggravation once again “You don’t like our friendship? That’s why you're breaking up with me?”

Now, said excruciating pain and humiliation were back on its full force. You ignored the lump on your throat, taking a deep breath and explaining the situation in the most sober and objective way possible. “I realized you and her fit more together than me and you, and…” your voice faltered as you saw his outrageous expression “...the two of you only broke up because she moved away. You’re all happy that she’s coming back. I just figured…”

“What?” he interrupted, his voice sharp and edgy “That i’d break up with you to be with her?” asking like it was a ridiculous thought. You stayed silent, because that was exactly what you thought. He huffed an incredulous laugh through his nose “Jesus. Did I ever give you a reason to question me? Or my loyalty?” he accused, his voice showing more worry than anger.

“No. Actually I don't know if you’d break up with me. That’s why I saved you the trouble.” you shrugged, trying not to show how much it hurt you to say it.

“Jesus fucking christ.” he muttered, pintching the bridge of his noise “Are you even hearing yourself?”

“Stop talking like I'm insane.” you snapped, losing your patience “You’re the one making phone calls, facetiming and going on dates with your ex girlfriend. I saw you when the two of you broke up. I was there. You were in pain. How am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to handle this? How am I supposed to compete with this? Explain to me, Aaron. Because I have no fucking clue.”

The moment you stopped speaking, you realized you were almost yelling. It was the first time you let out your anger, your hurt. All the time you kept saying you were doing the best: for Aaron, for Jack, for Beth… Not once you stopped to think how much it sucked to be you, to deal with all of that. Yes, you could’ve talked to him sooner. But you shouldn’t have felt like that. No one should. 

When you asked him to explain, to tell you what to do, it wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t sass. You were actually asking, begging for him, for someone, to tell you how to feel. It didn’t make sense, none of this made sense to you. It was too overwhelming, and you just wanted it to be gone. You wanted to disappear.

You noticed too late you were crying, fully sobbing now, with one hand clutched to your chest, as if you tried to rip your heart out, and the other resting against your throat, trying to soothe the pain from talking so loud. You didn’t see how his expression softened, his anger melting into pure sorrow. He couldn’t believe he did that to you, that he, of all people, made you feel this way.

A few minutes had passed when he finally made a move. He got up from his couch and crossed the room, sitting right by your side. His knees were pressed against your thighs, his eyes filled with tears. His body and his soul were completely in surrender to yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, simply. “I should’ve seen it before. I shouldn't have acted like this. Or at least, talked to you about it. I’m not trying to make any excuses for the way I acted, but I need to explain.” he cleared, his eyes scanning your face every 10 seconds, trying to find any hint of chance in your stance “The thought of someone other than you, in a romantic way, is so out of my reality that I didn’t even considered her a ‘threat’. Not that she, or anyone, is a threat. But I really didn’t see the situation as something that could’ve hurt you. And that was my first mistake.”

“She knows you in a way that I can’t.”

“You know me in a way no one can.” he argued “You were my subordinate, then my work colleague, my friend. Now you’re my best friend and my family. You’re the woman I love.” he gulped, flinching at his own words and feeling the hot streak of a lonely tear falling from his eye. The one he couldn’t hold back. “I don’t want you going back to being less than that.”

Your posture didn’t show any kind of surrender. But he didn’t see resistance either, and when you turned to face him, he noticed that you didn’t keep arguing and just waited to listen. Taking it as a good (the best yet) sign, he pressed further.

“There’s nothing going on between me and Beth. She happened to be the first friend I’ve had outside of the job for a long time, that’s all. I don’t know if it will help to hear this,” he tried, hesitantly “...but her leaving wasn’t the only reason why we broke up.” seeing your questioning expression, he kept going “We came to the realization we worked better as friends anyway, and it was just a matter of time for us to end things. The moving just happened first.” he shrugged.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he anticipated your argument “Yes, I did suffer. It was a change in scenario, how could I not? But as I said, we knew it was happening. So what it hurt the most was actually Jack. I felt like the worst parent from giving another sort of mother figure just to take it away from his life. Again.”

Before you could think properly, your hand reached out to his, squeezing in a silent reassurance. He always doubted his parental skills, and you were always making sure to remind him how amazing he was. Even now, with your heart broken and your relationship hanging by a thread, you still found a way to comfort him. 

How could he lose something like this? Someone like this? How could he let you go? How could he make you feel that way? He had to press his lips together in a thin line to keep them from trembling, and to hold back the force of his grip when he squeezed your hand back, making sure he wasn’t hurting you as he not so subtly tried to hold on to you. To keep you from leaving.

“Honey,” he started, not even caring about his voice cracking. He couldn’t wait any longer, or lose any more chances. This was it. “I love you so much. I know this isn’t ideal, and I hate myself for ever making you feel this way. If not being with me will make you happier, then…” he gulped “...I’ll let you go. But if this situation is the only reason, please, don’t go. Please, give me a chance to show you how you’re the only one I want.”

You feel your tears running freely from your face, and you choke up a sob before speaking, your voice so weak it was barely hearable “I feel really immature.”

He laughs, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. It sounds like he’s gone completely mad, like your admission was the water bottle after two days in the desert. It gave him hope.

“No.” he denied firmly, not letting go of your hand even for a second “Now that I think about it, if the tables were turned, I might’ve murdered your ex.” he whispered like a secret. It was so unexpected and so out of character of him that you laughed, surprising both you and him. He smiled from ear to ear at the sound of it. “I’m really sorry, I should’ve been more careful with the situation.”

“I should’ve just talked to you instead of jumping to conclusions.” you smiled apologetically. He ignores your attempt, looking deep into your eyes and calling your name with such a raw expectation that if you weren’t already seated, you would’ve fell.

“Did you change your mind?” you hesitate for a second, and he sees right through you “Tell me you have. I know you want to, I can feel it.” His voice is quiet, his words so soft spoken it feels like a spell. Only you know that you do want to be with him, now that is all cleared. “Please, give me a chance to make things right.”

You chew on your bottom lip as your eyes fill with tears again “I feel stupid.” you admit, and he wants nothing more than to cry his eyes out.

“Don’t say that ever again.” he leans in hesitantly, and when you don’t flinch or pull back, he wipes the tears from your face with the pad of his thumb. The other hand is still holding yours firmly “You were protecting yourself, as you should’ve. Thank you.”

“What for?” you snort between tears, not understanding what he could possibly be thankful for in this situation.

“Thank you for protecting and taking such good care of someone I love so much. Especially when I was too damn blind to see that she needed it.”

After that, there was no point of dragging this any further: you were completely and undeniably his.

He didn’t see it coming, his body jerking in surprise when you literally jumped to his lap, hugging him tightly and burying your face on his neck, sobbing and muttering apologies on repeat. His lips were glued to the crown of your head, kissing you repeatedly. His hands were all over you, touching from your feet to the strands of your hair, as if his body needed to feel you there, to make sure you were with him, for his mind to completely wrap up around the fact that you weren’t going anywhere.

Ignoring your words, he whispered his own, “Don’t you ever apologize. I should be the one apologizing. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” and it’s the only moment his lips leave your skin “I’m sorry. I will never make you feel this way. If I ever hurt you like that again, and I won’t, I want you…”

“Don’t say it.” you cut him off. He ignores, once again.

“...to just shoot me in the face. Kill me.”

You chuckle weakly, lifting your head from his chest to face him properly “Dude, you gotta stop with the murder threats.” he arches his eyebrow at you, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

“Dude? Who do you think you’re talking to?” he asks, and his finger tickles your sides as the stubble on his beard tickles your neck. Your body jerks and twitches on top of his while you laugh loudly, but never moving away from his.

When he finally feels you learned your lessons, his hands rested comfortably around your waist in its rightful place. You sigh, looking at him.

“Promise me that you will always talk to me, and be honest about your feelings. No matter how ugly you think they are.”

“I promise.” you say as you wipe the wet off his face, and it’s just then that he realizes he’d been crying all along “Promise me that if your feelings for me change, you’ll communicate.” he rolls his eyes so hard it feels like they’ll hit the back of his head “Promise.” you insist.

“I promise.” he says, seriously. When you relax, he starts again. “Matter of fact, my feelings just changed.” you squint your eyes at his playful tone “A few minutes ago I wanted to stop by your place to get back the clothes you took. But now, I’ve decided you’ll be spending the rest of the weekend with nothing to wear but that shirt.” he says, leaning – without moving you away from his lap – to grab the piece of fabric he left on the center table.

“I have to get at least underwear.” you argue.

“If you behave, I’ll let you borrow a couple boxers.”

“Jack will see it.”

“He’s a kid. And they’re the exact same size of what you call your casual shorts so I doubt he’ll notice the difference.” he points seriously and you squeal, slapping his chest slightly.

“That’s rude. And humiliating.”

“That’s what you get for stealing.”

Your mouth hangs open for a second “I didn’t steal! I didn’t take anything from your house but my clothes.”

“This house is ours.” he stares at you deeply, waiting for his statement to sink in before continuing “So is everything in it. From the bedroom to the coffee pot and, therefore, your clothes. So, basically, you stole from us.” he shrugged, like he made a perfect point. You just laugh, choosing to accept it.

“I’m sorry for stealing.” he nodded politely and you dive back into his embrace, sighing happily “Can we stay like this forever?” Aaron tight his arms around you, his whole body answering before any words came out.

“I’ll think about it. But before that, we have to eat. You're probably on the verge of dehydration right now.” he points, standing up with you still in his arms, and makes his way toward the kitchen. He settles you in one of the stools and hands you your shirt “Go change while I make us breakfast. Now that I’ve learnt how to use the coffee pot.”

You gasp, widening your eyes in a mock-threat. Jumping out of the stool with your shirt already crumpled on your hands, you stomp your way to where he stands behind the stove, pointing your finger to his chest. “You can cook whatever you want, but don't you dare touch the coffee pot, Aaron Hotchner.”

Aaron does just as you said, beaming while frying the bacon even when you’re upstairs in his shower. Your shower. And both of you know, somehow, you’ll be okay.

taglist: all hotch @winyourheartemma all cm @s0urw00lf @deeninadream @khxna

[egelantier]

boldness is all!

so murderbot 1.9 was just personally tailored emotional porn for yours truly, 10/10, no notes, those people are amazing and i hope they get to adapt all the books. i want to see what they do with art like burning.

the thing about the show overall i really loved is how deft, economic and intentional they're with their adaptation choices. ASR is a deceptively hard book to adapt, i think, given that it's delivered in a very detached narrative from a deeply unreliable narrator, and everything the show team chose to do with it was just - well-thought out in a deeply satisfying way.

giving gurathin his woobie corporate spy backstory? elevates him from the straight man description in the book (the humans in the books are deliberately sanded down and smushed together - it's murderbot's narration and it doesn't want to care too much and it doesn't want to pay attention; but we as independent viewers have to care, otherwise there's no show), gives him this beautiful kismesis rapport/understanding/tension with murderbot, and quickly and efficiently hammers in the 'under this form of predatory capitalism everybody is abused and exploited, but also there are levels to that' that takes the books some time to unfold. who knows if they get a second season? and it's already all here.

leebeebee? quick corprim entry point of view, nice thematic foil for both gurathin and murderbot, the quick demonstration of how presaux' way of communicating with corporation rim is both good and dangerous for them, and a sideside demonstration that yes, sometimes people will participate in their own exploitation and will choose the promise of being the boot over the freedom from the boot, and there's that.

sanctuary moon? aside from how much fun it is, it provides us with quick and dirty insight into murderbot feelings - something that it most definitely has in abundance AND something that it staunchly refuses to admit or embody all the way until, like, fifth or sixth book in the series - and also a beautiful demonstration of how a person will learn empathy from anywhere, even second-grade soap opera, because personhood is made of connections, and the urge to connect is just that strong. it IS a mediocre show, that is; this mediocre show allowed murderbot to invent and try out concepts completely integral to its sense of being and perceiving the world way ahead of time. (also makes me think of how the most enduring Ye Fandoms of Olde were slightly mediocre, long shows that had to be read very closely and sometimes against the text to read all the richness and joy into them.)

(and also for the horrendous, startling vulnerability and generosity of murderbot sharing its comfort episode with mensah AFTER she called it a mediocre show. i would never, i swear to god.)

the throuple? a) hilarious b) a quick and dirty crash course on how presaux navigates sex, relationships, sticky ethical situations, cringe and changes - by treating each other with maximum respect possible and knowing that they can talk about shit even when shit is deeply embarrassing for all parties involved.

it's not maybe the only correct way to do things - in some other universe it could've been done completely differently, and it's okay - but in our sad little world where adaptations usually go either with slapping a title on any tangentially related standard save the cat story, or with slavishly following word for word without understanding what those words do, i was incredibly surprised and pleased.

[shuastar]

fortunate change (hjs; 10 years' love)

pairing: joshua x f!reader genre: smut; est relationship; early morning/in-bed sex; soft joshua; whipped shua agenda; p in v sex; MDNI!!! a/n: i am not embarrassed to say that i am a soft joshua supporter and whatthefuck were thoae maldives pics…. nomnomnom 10th ANNIV. TAGLIST FORM HERE

masterlist | jeonghan | jun

It starts slow. Everything with him always does.

Sunlight creeps in through the edges of the curtain, painting soft golden warmth on the rumpled sheets and over his bare shoulder, his spine a lazy curve as he sleeps on his side, half draped over you. His chest rises and falls in time with yours. The room is quiet save for the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the occasional birdsong outside.

You think you could stay like this forever.

Joshua shifts slightly beside you, his thigh sliding between yours. His hand is already on your waist — it must have stayed there all night — fingers splayed possessively across your skin. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and breathes you in.

“Mm,” he hums, still mostly asleep. “You smell nice…”

You smile drowsily. “You always say that.”

“You always do,” he mumbles back, voice low and scratchy from sleep.

He lifts his head, finally, eyes half-lidded and soft, and leans in to press the warmest, slowest kiss to the side of your mouth. Then another. And another. He kisses like this moment, this skin-on-skin warmth that pulls him closer to you each time he exhales.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, teasing, nudging your thigh higher between his legs.

He groans softly and laughs into your neck. “Can’t help it. You’re right here. Being warm. Breathing.”

“Wow. I really did all that just by existing?”

“Mmhm,” he replies, sleep-drunk and smiling. “It’s like… the world’s finally on its axis when you’re next to me. Like everything’s warmer, just because you’re here.”

That makes your stomach flutter in a way no dirty talk ever could. He always says things like that — quietly, sincerely, like it’s the most obvious truth in the universe.

Joshua kisses you again, slower this time, one hand cupping your cheek while the other slides down your waist, anchoring you closer. His hips press forward, just enough for you to feel him — hard and hot against your thigh.

You shift under the sheets, legs parting slightly, the fabric rustling as you guide his hand lower. He doesn’t say anything — just touches you. His fingers slip beneath your underwear and slide through your folds, slow and unhurried.

“So wet already,” he breathes, kissing your shoulder. “You missed me?”

“We’ve been in the same bed all night.”

He gives you a sleepy grin. “Still.”

When he finally moves over you, it’s with unbearable tenderness — the kind that makes your chest ache. His hands frame either side of your head on the pillow, fingers splayed wide like he needs to steady himself just from looking at you. He watches you beneath him, eyes half-lidded but focused, mouth parted as if he’s still caught in that dreamlike edge between sleep and need.

His chest brushes against yours, warm and bare, skin sticking slightly where you’re already flushed and overheated. You feel the soft line of his stomach glide over yours as he shifts forward, hips slotting between your legs. Every movement is deliberate, like he doesn’t want to break the spell of the morning — like he’s savoring this before the rest of the world can touch it.

Then — slowly — he presses in.

The head of his cock nudges against your entrance, slick with your arousal, and he exhales shakily, the sound tight in his throat. His eyes flick to yours, wordless and careful.

You nod, barely, and he begins to sink into you inch by inch.

The stretch is slow — just enough to steal your breath and make your fingers clutch his shoulders. He never looks away. His gaze stays locked to yours like he wants to watch every single reaction play out on your face, like he’s memorizing the way your brows knit and your lips part in a soft gasp as he fills you.

Joshua groans — low, trembling — like this is everything he’s been waiting for. “Fuck… baby,” he murmurs, forehead dropping to yours. “You feel—god, you feel so perfect.”

There’s no rush. No urgency. No wild rhythm.

Just the quiet, steady sound of your breaths mingling, your bodies pressing together, and the bed creaking faintly beneath the slow roll of his hips. He starts to move — long, dragging thrusts that make you feel every single part of him. His pelvis presses against yours with each slow push forward, grinding deep before retreating again, only to fill you once more with aching precision.

It’s not just sex. It’s not even really about release. It’s about being here — being with him like this, in the golden warmth of a morning that belongs to no one else.

You wrap your legs around his waist, heels pressing into the small of his back to pull him impossibly closer. Your body arches up instinctively, needing more of him.

“You feel good,” you whisper, barely audible.

Joshua leans down and kisses you — not hurried, not hungry. Just slow. His mouth slides over yours like silk, tongue slipping in to brush against yours with aching tenderness. He kisses you like a secret. Like a vow.

“You feel like home,” he whispers into your lips, and it makes something twist deep inside you.

The room is warm now. You can’t tell if it’s the sunlight or the weight of his body or the way his love feels — slow and molten — settling between your ribs.

His thrusts stay deep and unhurried, hips rocking into you like a tide. Every movement says I love you. I missed you. I need you. He tilts his hips slightly, grinding just enough to drag across that spot inside you that makes your breath catch, and when he feels your thighs tense, he moans softly against your neck.

“You’re so good to me,” he breathes. “Always feel so good—god, I love you like this.”

He trails kisses along your jaw, the corner of your mouth, your shoulder. “Wanna stay like this. Wanna stay in bed with you forever.”

You let your hands roam — up the smooth plane of his back, fingers skating over the flex of his shoulder blades, then down, slow, nails dragging lightly. The muscles under your touch tense and ripple, and he shudders, his hips stuttering just once before he steadies again.

The way he’s holding himself up is shaky now — arms trembling slightly, his breath getting heavier. You can feel how close he is, how his rhythm gets a little less controlled with every thrust.

You press your lips to his temple, brushing away damp strands of hair, and whisper, “come with me.”

He moans your name into your shoulder, muffled and broken, and then he’s coming — hips pressed tight to yours, cock pulsing deep as he spills into you. His whole body tenses before melting into yours, collapsing gently so he can wrap his arms around you, bury his face in your neck, and breathe.

Your fingers thread through his hair, soothing, as you both try to come down from it together. His heart beats against yours, fast and unsteady.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull out. Just stays there, tucked inside you, chest flush to yours, breath slowing with each passing second.

And when the air finally stills and the sun fully stretches across the bed, warming everything in gold, he lifts his head and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“See?” he murmurs, smiling like he knows something you don’t. “Still warm. Still on axis. That’s you.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. “You’re so cheesy.”

He grins, then nuzzles into your neck again. “And you love it.”

And with the way you cling to him — legs still wrapped around his hips, your fingers softly stroking his back — he’s not wrong.

He shifts just slightly inside you, and you feel him stir again.

“…You’re not done, are you?” you whisper.

Joshua hums. Smiles against your throat.

“Not even close.”

ˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist @gyuhao365

[sewer-sermon]

"please learn that your suffering isn't real and also you're just being hysterical and stupid lol. take a joke lol. i love women and definitely don't have internalized hatred against them to work through". embarrassing as fuck. transmisandry is still misogyny you can't love women and hate trans men at the same time. and i don't wanna hear no fuckin "oh so you think trans men are just women?" because that's the furthest fucking thing from the words coming out of my mouth rn. i call it like it is because i am not OUT to ANYONE i know in real life. i am A WOMAN to everyone but the buttfuck idiots on this website, i KNOW WHAT MISOGYNY LOOKS LIKE because I DEAL WITH IT EVERY FUCKING DAY. telling me a) that the suffering i experience isn't real, and then b) that i just need to learn to "take a joke" and that nothing is "that serious" is exactly what a cis man would've said to me if i was arguing about facing misogyny as a woman. you cannot performatively pretend to care about one kind of misogyny and then turn around and kick sand in the face of another form of it because you think it'll make women like you more. that's not actually having a moral backbone, that's being a dumb piece of shit who just wants to look like a good person without doing any of the hard work

spotted some infighting in the cis community... apparently a lot of the men there have some really nasty views on cis women!

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 22

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut FILTHY BEWARNED), cheating, homophobic mom Wordcount: 8.5K A/C: HELLO i am back ty for being patient the last three weeks have been a whirlwind and so much has happened but long story short i am a working lady now! which means chapters will take longer to come out - i know that's disappointing to many of you but there's nothing i can do about that if i want to maintain a quality i can be happy with. anyway, I MISSED Y'ALL <3

-

London

Sleeping side by side in my childhood bedroom with someone never came easy to me. It made me feel vulnerable and exposed. I made even Jasper sleep in the guest bedroom if he ever happened to stay over. My childhood bed was sacred, all mine, just for me. No one else was allowed in the linen sheets. Not until a couple days ago.

Now it’s as easy as breathing, the blonde beside me. Snoring and leaving her hair and her scent on my pillow. Her warmth against my side. Maybe I’ve gotten a little too comfortable or lost all my senses for letting her heavy breathing lull me to sleep - nevermind the unspeakable ways I’ve allowed her to touch my tired body with just double doors between us and my family who still saw me as innocent and pure little Izara.

“Oh shit,” I hiss, my back arching as Paige’s fingers hit the sweet spot inside my walls. Every damn time.

“Shh,” she shushes me and slams her free hand over my mouth. But I see from the smirk on her lips that she loves how unable I am to keep quiet. She doesn’t pump her digits in and out barely at all, but the force that she’s curving her fingers with is even twice as great.

Paige is on top of me, in a sports bra and boxers and the cross chain hanging off her sinfully. It all happened so fast, I was naked before I even noticed and begging for her affection and suddenly being flipped onto my back. I had barely woken up.

“Ah fuck I knew it,” even her whisper sounds arrogant as her lips tickle against my cheek. “She missed me so bad, huh?”

I can tell she’s trying to keep us quiet, covered in a heavy duvet making us both hot and sweaty but silencing some of the sounds of my body. Still the squelching is clearly audible, and I don’t even care. I want more. 

“N-No,” I defy, my weak words muffled against her hand.

“Oh yeah?” Paige asks, pulling back with her brows raced and a grin on her face. “Then why you squirting ma?”

An embarrassed flush washes over my cheeks, even worse when I realise Paige knew I would far earlier when she laid out the towel underneath us. But my embarrassment doesn’t change anything. The warm liquid gushes out of me with each curl of her fingers, making my eyes roll back. 

The blonde chuckles as I cover my face with my arm in shame, but pushes it away. There was no hiding with her. 

“Tell me you missed me,” she whispers, kissing on my neck.

I merely moan, a little too loud for the quiet house.

“Tell me,” she repeats.

“I missed you Paige,” I murmur in a high-pitched, breathy sound. “My pussy missed you.” And it’s true. She did. The filthy words spill from my lips with ease only for her. They seem to satisfy her - upon hearing them her fingers begin to pump in and out with such speed it brings me to the edge.

“Sh- You’re gonna make me cum baby,” I whimper, finding it impossible to stay quiet as even when I bite down on my lower lip. “Baby,” I repeat, hand almost reaching for her wrist in case the sensation got too overwhelming.

“Shh,” she hums, nuzzling her nose into mine. “Don’t tell me, show me.”

With that and a final curl of her fingers she guides me to my climax. The waves of pleasure make me delirious, throwing a pillow over my face to quiet myself. My back arches and trembling legs nearly shut but Paige’s body on top of me keeps me wide open for her as she brings me down, still her digits buried deep inside.

Paige pushes the pillow off my face, her blonde hair falling off something that resembled a bun. With a proud grin, she kisses me. I’ve completely forgotten everything else but us. I’m sure I look like a mess but with her I don’t even care, pushing the blanket off my naked body and welcoming the cool air.

“Oh hello,” Paige winks, her eyes travelling down to my breasts. I push her face, still too breathless to speak. She kisses my shoulder and collarbone, nuzzling her nose into me. If she only knew how obsessed with her I was.

“Thank God we put a towel down,” she teases. “You’re a mess baby.”

“Stop,” I whine in embarrassment and pull the blanket over us again. Paige takes the opportunity to start kissing down my stomach, disappearing under the duvet between my legs.

“What are you doing?” I ask suddenly gasping as her tongue licks along my slit. There’s a tremble in my legs. I try to push her off, I’m far too sensitive for this.

“I gotta clean up my mess,” Paige mumbles into my pussy and I can tell she doesn’t care about that at all. No, the girl seems to be making a much bigger mess, her tongue lapping me up and swirling in my folds. I tug at the sheets and bite on my lower lip to keep quiet. I knew better than to interrupt Paige mid-meal.

“P-paige, slow,” I remind her, back already arching in response to her. She hums, the vibration sending jolts through me. How did I ever survive without this? Her lovely mouth and wonderful hands.

I don’t get to enjoy them longer, because the double doors slam open and my life comes crashing down. In that simple, short moment the facade crumbles and I’m exposed and bare and imperfect and there’s no point in hiding it. Far gone are the times I spent following every rule and obeying like I was expected to just so I could bask in my mother’s warmth and approval a second longer. I know for certain I’ll never feel that love for as long as I live because when I lift my gaze and hold the blanket over my naked body, mum is standing by the door with horrified eyes and a hand over her mouth. The blanket that covers us is not enough to hide the sin happening beneath the layer of duvet and Paige’s mouth at my hip.

I’m speechless and embarrassed like a disobedient child waiting for her punishment - for anything. But there’s nothing. My mother spins around and hurries out, leaving the doors wide open behind her. I’m in a haze, not even sure how I get dressed or how long it’s been when I run out of the room calling out for her.

“Mum?” I say as I jog downstairs, leaving Paige in my room all alone. My voice is shaking and my eyes are watering as I search my mind for any excuse, any apology. When I was just a child I’d pick flowers or draw a picture or write a note. I don’t think it’s enough now, I don’t know if nothing ever will be. Because she’s finally seen beyond the facade and now she knows who I really am. Sinful, dirty and selfish.

“Mum,” I scream with a pressure in my throat like I might burst into tears or be sick. She stands in the kitchen, staring out of the window like I’m not there. Like I don’t exist. 

“Please, I’m sorry,” I cry loud enough that my dad walks out of his office to find me pleading with her. “Mum, please, say something.”

“Woah, what’s going on?” My dad asks, walking over to me and wrapping a warm arm around my shoulders. I bask in it. Soon he would know and he would be gone too.

I barely register the steps down the stairs and the second pair of hands wrapping around me but the scent of sandalwood grounds me, Paige pressing to my side.

“Ma’am I never wanted to disrespect anyon-” She starts.

“You need to leave,” my mother’s shrill voice cuts through the air, silencing everything. She means it. “You’re not welcome into my house.”

Paige is already about to leave when I grab her arm, my worry being replaced with anger fast. How could she talk like that to her? For the first time in my life, I defy her.

“Are you serious?” I ask, my tone turning sarcastic.

My mother turns, the morning light coming in from behind painting her harshly against the window. When her brown eyes fall to my hand that’s holding Paige’s, the blonde lets go. I know what she thinks. She’s unsure, she feels guilty. But it’s not her fault. I only hold tighter.

“And you Izara,” my mother says sternly. “We need to have a serious talk.”

“The hell we do!”

“Okay, okay why don’t we all calm down?” My father chimes in, trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m sure we can all talk this through.”

“No Rohan, if you knew what,” she stops herself. She can’t even say it. Just as I’m about to spiral, Paige's thumb smooths over my skin and makes everything okay again. For a moment my father looks at me and the girl beside me, and our clasped hands.

“I’m sure whatever it is we can all sit down and talk,” he says calmly. Even when I hold Paige’s hand he doesn’t realise what it means. It’s so bizarre to him that we might be something more. That his only daughter might be involved with a woman.

“I’m not speaking with anyone who talks to Paige that way,” I huff, seething with resentment.

“Good. And I’m not speaking until she leaves,” my mother answers twice as stubbornly. The blonde beside me shifts, rubbing her jaw.

“I should head out…” she murmurs.

“Yes, you should.”

“No,” I shake my head, glancing at my father for help. But we both know we might as well be arguing with a brick wall. There’s no changing my mother’s mind. 

Paige let’s go of my hand. “Look, I’ll just see you later, yeah?”

The idea of her leaving shakes me. The last thing I wanted was her gone after being abandoned by my mother. I would simply die if she went.

“No,” I murmur. “I’m coming with you.”

Packing what I own in a matter of minutes had become an easy, familiar task this year. I must’ve beaten my own record I think as me and Paige heave my bags downstairs and into the cab. I don’t need to ask for help, or say a word. She knows what I need before I do myself, whispering comfort into my ears to cover the muffled shouts between my parents and now Kiran, who had woken up to a battlefield. Soon my father would know, and he’d be gone. It seemed like no matter what I did I was always disappointing someone. Why did I have to keep betraying myself to make the people around me happy? 

I look at the girl sitting next to me in the back of a black cab. Her long lashes flutter as she texts a panicking Kiran, calming him down as if he was a brother of her own. The only person who never asked for a sacrifice I wasn’t willing to give, the only one who I never had to betray myself for. The only person who ever truly knew me. How did I ever let her go? How could I do it again?

-

It’s far too early and far too cold to be anywhere but indoors and in bed. The cold in London was a far cry from Dallas and even worse than the snowy mornings in Connecticut. Something about the breeze and the humidity caused the cold to sink into my bones, causing aches and shivers I didn’t even know could exist. My eyes struggle to stay open as we step out of the Tube, Izzie leading me with long, confident strides and commanding me to get my card out so I don’t cause a hassle at the gates like last time. Still, I’m here and happily so. Saying no to Izara was never a strength of mine. Especially after what happened yesterday.

“So is this place named after that movie?” I yawn and to my horror see my breath linger around me like a smoke cloud. The girl snorts, wrapping her arm into mine. It felt good not to have to hide. Most people in London couldn’t care less about who I was.

“Nottinghill came first, movie came second darling,” she laughs brightly as we walk past a bright yellow pub. It’s only 9AM but the streets are filled with people, taking pictures in front of the colourful pastel townhouses. I couldn’t imagine living in one of them knowing strangers were constantly outside your doorstep. Although, I guess that’s how I feel now most of the time.

“Yo, your coat matches the house,” I grin as we walk by a baby pink one. “You should live there.”

“I’d rather die,” Izzie says bluntly. “But there are some gorgeous townhouses further away I wouldn’t mind living in.”

The bitter smell of coffee lingers in the air as we walk past coffee shops. I see the girl beside me watching the people holding to-go cups and pastries, making a mental note to get her some soon. She was weirdly in a good mood after all the drama yesterday. She said she’s fine and doesn’t wanna talk about it. I think she’s lying to herself. I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.

“That’s where we gonna move then?” I ask with a grin. I loved playing these games with her. We did it all the time. What breed of dog are we getting? Our children’s names? What kind of furniture? Our wedding venue?

She giggles and blushes like always when I allude to our future. And I melt every single time.

“No, I don’t want to live in Nottinghill. Too touristy.”

The streets are shut from cars, people filling the lanes to look through different stalls on each side. Vintage maps, jewelry, magnets, old cameras - all being sold on flimsy tables fighting for customers. We walk by one selling pin up posters from the 50s and I swear one of the girls looks just like Iz. I wanna see her just like that, in a sailor hat and red lipstick and a little bikini. She leans into my arm, bringing me back from my little fantasy.

“Why is there a ferris wheel on everything?” I ask, looking at the picture of one next to Big Ben on a tote bag.

“You’re joking,” she giggles. “It’s the London Eye.”

“Yea, I dunno what that is.”

“It’s that,” she points to the ferris wheel.

“So a ferris wheel,” I argue. Izzie groans and rolls her eyes.

“I need coffee before I deal with you today,” she complains, walking into a coffee shop. I follow her trail like a puppy, a satisfied smirk on my lips.

“You gonna deal with me? That’s hot,” I whisper, kissing her cheek from behind.

“Get off me,” she brushes me off, but I know she loves it when I get on her nerves. And I loved it too. The girl grabs a kitschy London keychain and is already paying for it before I can resist. “You’re getting this.”

“I don’t want it,” I laugh, looking at the outline of the skyline on the chain with big blue, red and white letters spelling out London.

“Yes you do,” she argues, already trying to attach it to the beltloop of my black cargos. I grab her hands, the warmth of her skin tingling against my fingertips. She’s giggling, but there’s no use in fighting. I’m much stronger than she is.

“Ugh, fine,” she gives up. “At least put it on your keychain.”

“Or what?” I grin, already reaching for my keys to add it to my collection.

A devilish smile sets on the girl’s face as she leans in, her lips brushing against my ear. It takes everything in me not to moan.

“No kisses then.”

It’s as easy as that to have me on my knees obeying every word she says, the souvenir finding a home with my keys the moment the words leave her lips. I wanna defy her, I wanna think I can have her when I want. That I have her on a leash. But it couldn’t be far from the truth. I’m the one being dragged around, with a collar around my neck, completely owned by her. Still I can’t help it when the words leave my mouth.

“I can kiss you when I want,” I argue in a quiet whisper. “Can’t resist this rizz.”

Her green eyes are sharp, staring up at me under her long black lashes. There’s a coy smile on her lips as she tilts her head and I know I’m fucked.

“Is that what you think?” She hums. With a shake of her head, she turns away and continues looking through the different stalls. I’m somewhere else in my mind. I’ll be regretting this later.

As the early morning fog disappears closer to afternoon with a rare sunray peeking through the clouds, the crowds come in with the light. Sharing a crepe, I hold onto Izara’s waist so as not to lose her. The neighbourhood is really cute, but I liked it more an hour ago when it was just us and who seemed to be locals.

“C’mon,” I tell the girl, leading her through a black gate and shrubbery into a desolate garden belonging to a fancy apartment building. 

“Paige,” Iz whispers. “This is private area.”

“No one gonna say nun,” I snort, heading straight to the wooden park bench facing the small fountain. “Or you too scared?”

She gets this defiant look in her eye which I love, and sits her pretty ass down on the seat after dusting it off. Happily I sit next to her. The roaring of the crowd is just a distant mumble. Finally some peace. We weren’t supposed to be here, and maybe that’s why it felt so good. Every minute lately felt like a stolen one.

We eat the crepe in silence, sharing bites of strawberries and nutella. I slow down my chewing, matching her pace and making sure she gets more. I can always just grab something later. Besides, she looks so happy, staring at the running water of the fountain and munching on a piece of fruit. Or at least I think she does. But I don’t know how happy she could be after last morning. She takes the last bite without asking. I would’ve let her cave the whole thing.

I wish I could read her mind. How she feels about us. About her parents finding out. I’m pretty sure her dad would be just fine. But her mom? I’m not so sure. I wonder if she’s still happy that I’m here. I worry that I came here selfishly. That maybe she would’ve been happier and more content if I just let her forget about me.

Right then, Izzie’s gloved fingers wrap with my own, her green eyes remaining still. She squeezes my hand, once, twice, three times and all my worry melts away.

“I was thinking we could walk around for a bit longer and then go to Camden,” she murmurs, glancing at me. I nod, it doesn’t matter where we go as long as I’m with her. 

“Oh Paige,” she suddenly laughs, and wets the corner of a napkin with her spit. Grabbing my chin, she leans over and rubs my chin hard. The way mothers do. “How’d you do that.”

“You know I’m a messy eater,” I grin, reminded of that time when we barely knew each other, her eating ribs in my t-shirt in my car. The girl rolls her eyes and I take it as a chance to go in for a kiss. She thinks about it, lingering until she turns away, shaking her head.

“No kisses, remember?”

-

If Nottinghill was Sunday mornings then Camden was Saturday nights, filled with bright neon signs and street musicians playing everything from ballads to reggae. It was shocking how many different things London could be - it almost didn’t seem like a big city at all, more like a bunch of cities grouped into one. The brightly coloured shops are covered in vibrant murals and graffiti and the smell of incense washes over me. Izara grabs my hand tighter, following my expressions closely. 

“Bro this is sick,” I gasp as we pass a rave store guarded by two giant robot statues. 

“I’m glad you like it, some people find it overwhelming,” she tells me over the crowd as we push into the narrow walkways around the market, a swarm of people moving slowly to look at the different stalls. A lady pushes into me and I nearly stumble, the cobblestone path uneven under my feet. Izzie chuckles and wraps an arm around mine to steady me. The sound of food sizzling and the smell of jerk chicken make my stomach grumble.

“You hungry?” Izzie asks like reading my mind. A real life angel.

“Starvin’,” I tell her, leaning a little too close and getting a whiff of jasmine off her hair.

After settling on a Korean dog and a yorkshire burrito (and my picky eating habits almost causing an argument) and a quick bottle of wine from Tesco, Izzie is leading me to a “good spot” that’s “not too far” and “walkable”. The ache at the bottom of my feet says otherwise, and I feel like we’ve been walking forever when we finally come to a path surrounded by plains of grass, the sun already setting.

“Okay not far now,” Izara says for the fifth time. I nearly groan. She seems to notice my exhaustion. 

“I can carry something, you know?” She says as I balance the food and the tote bag with the wine and Izara’s purse that had been hurting her arm.

“You’re carrying nun,” I tell her, knowing she easily could and it would make this a lot easier. But it’s the principle. I was raised to treat a woman right.

“You su-”

“Yes.”

“Fine, well trust me it’s worth it,” she murmurs as we approach the top of the hill. To my surprise there are other people around too, sitting on blankets and staring at something. Just a few steps further I see what and I understand what exactly was worth all this.

On the horizon, the skyline of central London is painted against the dark blue background. Even on the cold evening couples are cozied up, shoulder to shoulder on picnic blankets, watching the view.

“C’mere,” Izzie tells me, finding a spot and setting down a blanket on the ground. We set everything up, the wine and the food laid out as we sit down. My feet ache in the way they do after you’ve walked too much, but the girl’s head resting on my arm makes it all better.

The city seems untouchable all the way from here. The lights of the buildings twinkle, making it seem so much further away than it actually was. The blanket dampens from the humid ground. My ears sting with cold. My coat did nothing against the chill. But she’s warms against me and that’s enough.

“Yo, that’s the ferris wheel!” I say a little too loud, getting some dirty looks. Izzie giggles and nods. 

“Yes it is,” she hums. I nuzzle my nose into her hair, completely forgotten about the food despite the rumbling in my abdomen. My heart flutters, and I grab her hands into mine. I never want to go back. Dallas, Minnesota, not even Connecticut was anything compared to this. 

“I could live here,” I murmur, watching a helicopter circle around central London in the horizon.

“Not in Camden,” she answers.

“Where then?”

The girl thinks for a while before grabbing a sip of wine and handing a plastic cup to me. “Hampstead definitely.”

“Okay,” I nod. “We can live there.”

Iz chuckles. “With our Cockerspaniel?” She asks.

“And three kids,” I grin. It’s only a joke but the thought makes my heart spin. I allow myself to fantasize. A long day of training, coming home to the sound of little feet and the barks of a dog and a very pregnant Izara in the kitchen cooking us all a meal. God she’d look good pregnant.

“Off-seasons spent in England?” She asks, taking a bite of the burrito. Oh right, the food.

“Wherever you want ma,” I tell her, leaning in to kiss her forehead. Again, she dodges. 

“I’m not loving this game,” I say sternly. She chuckles and hands me the food. 

“Should’ve behaved earlier then.”

It seems that no time has passed when we pour the last of the wine into the cup we’re sharing, the food long gone. Every moment with Izzie passed in a blink of an eye. For a second I’m filled with the horrifying dread of only getting a lifetime with her. How quickly it might be over when I’m with someone who made time fly by this fast. It makes me squeeze her closer to me, my hand wrapped around her waist. 

“You’re my best friend,” Izara whispers as her eyes scan the tall sparkling buildings beyond the meadow. 

“You’re my whole world,” I admit.

-

My tired legs drag on the ground in the nightfall and cold is seeping into my bones. I barely care though, because she’s here with me and she looks so beautiful in the dim light of the evening.

“Are you even looking?”

“Wh- Huh?” I snap out of my trance and finally move my eyes from her to look around. Immediately I gasp.

“That’s the ferris wheel!” I yelp and point at it. Izzie shushes me with a laugh. “Can we go on it?”

“It’s closed and so pricey Paige,” she chuckles, the lights on it bright pink. As we walk closer the sound of the river becomes clearer. I glance past the ferris wheel and over the short stone wall to take a look to see black water flowing along.

“That’s Thames,” Iz murmurs and guides my gaze by my chin. Her manicured fingers linger on my skin as my eyes settle on the golden light emanating from the opposite side of the river. “And that’s Big Ben.”

The large building and tall clock tower are like something out of a painting in the dark. Red double decker buses drive on the bridge, passing the intense light shining off the clock. Groups of tourists are standing by, taking pictures and posing.

“You wanna go closer darling?” Izzie asks, walking me towards the bridge. I almost nod, but not before my jaw falls to the ground at the sight in front of me.

“What is Shrek’s Adventure?!” I yelp, seeing the sign above double doors. The girl beside me groans and grabs my arm as I’m about to walk closer.

“We are not going in there,” she says sternly, dragging me away.

“It’s the only thing I wanna do!” I whine, looking at the green text written on the wall. 

“You don’t even know what it is!” Izzie says.

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s a live theatre thing,” she brushes it off.

“Yeah, we’re going.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You’re the most annoying person I ever knew,” Iz groans as I finally give up on trying to convince her.

“You love me,” I tease. The words come out before I think them through, like most of the things I say. They hang in the air like fog off the river. An awkward silence falls over us, filled only by the sound of traffic and tourists walking by. She keeps walking and we make our way over the bridge towards Big Ben, the golden light illuminating us both.

We stand there for a while, watching the people filming TikToks and taking pictures in front of the building. The smell of roasted hazelnuts lingers in the air. Subconsciously, I scrunch my brows staring at the tower.

“What?” Izzie asks, frowning. I eye the monument, chewing on my lower lip.

“I dunno,” I mumble. “I thought it’d be bigger.”

The girl rolls her eyes but laughs. “You’re so American.”

I laugh too. “So are we gonna go see the Queen’s castle too?”

“You mean Buckingham Palace?” She asks.

“Sure, yea,” I have no idea. “Where the Queen lives.”

“The queen is dead,” Iz says morbidly, trying to hold in her laughter. “You know that right?”

“What?” I gasp. “Since when?”

“Since a few years ago,” she giggles, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Oh man,” I mumble. “I really wanted to meet her.”

“Oh you got a type? English ladies?”

I burst into laughter, raising my brows high as she says this. “Yea, I like em strict and English.”

She slaps me on the shoulder and I wince even though it doesn’t actually hurt. 

“Are you calling me strict?” She gasps, pretending to be offended. She loves it though, bossing me around. And I love doing whatever she tells me to.

“Yes ma’am,” I answer, letting my hand travel from her side to her round ass and squeezing as discreetly as I could. Not that I cared that much to be discreet. 

“Well you need it,” she murmurs, leaning into my side.

“God knows,” I say.

-

“I’m never walking again,” Paige crashes face first onto the bed of the hotel room without even bothering to take her puffer vest off. I know what she means. The day had drained me, my feet aching more with each step. 

“Well you better walk to the shower at least,” I yawn, taking my hair down and opening the double doors to the large suite bathroom. I leave the door ajar, a gentle invitation as I begin to undress the layers of clothing. My coat, the maroon sweater, the long satin skirt - until I’m left in just a matching black lingerie set.

“I’ma just shower tomorrow,” the blonde whines from the other room, muffled voice suggesting her face was pressed into the mattress. 

“You’re not getting in my bed unshowered Paige Bueckers,” I scoff, walking to the doorway and finding her - as I expected - face down on the bed.

“Bro it’s my room so it’s my bed,” she argues. I clear my throat, causing the girl to turn her head. 

Her eyes widen at the sinful sight, me in black lace leaning against the door, arms crossed to accentuate her favourite part of my body. Her pink lips part as she licks them, sitting up and pulling her beanie off as her gaze travels up and down.

“So you don’t want to come with me?” I ask with a lilt to my voice she can’t refuse, let alone the way I tilt my head.

Paige swallows hard, her cheeks turning pinker each moment. “Uhm, yea, I’m coming,” she mumbles, stumbling up and undressing faster than I thought possible. Her steps approach from behind into the already steamy shower when I step in, letting out a sigh of relief. The hot water soothes my cool skin, causing goosebumps to rise.

Glancing over my shoulder, the blonde stands naked by the sink. In the bright lights of the bathroom I realise how much she’s grown in the shoulders and arms, the reflection of her back revealing muscles that weren’t there last summer. Her ocean eyes stare as the water drips down my body, the arch of my back, between my cleavage, down my stomach and thighs. Her teeth sink into her plump lower lip.

“Are you just going to ogle?”

She chuckles. “I might. Cause you won’t kiss me.”

My gaze softens. Her presence feels like a magnet, I need her close. “Come here please.”

She hears the need, the ache, of my voice and obeys. Her blonde hair darkens as the water seeps into the golden strands and her big hands find home on my hips. She feels hard and strong against my softer figure as I wrap my arms around her neck and kiss her. I don’t know if it’s her spit or the water I’m tasting but I welcome it anyway, breathing heavily out of my nose.

“Lemme wash you,” she pants into my mouth. She’s already lightheaded and the hoarseness of her voice is like a drug. I can only nod. But she begs either way.

“Please,” Paige breathes out, chest heaving. I nod again.

The blonde keeps her nose pressed against mine when she begins rubbing the loofah against my arms in gentle, careful circles. The foam covers my brown skin all the way to my shoulders, a gasp leaving my body as she takes her time soaping up my breasts.

“So beautiful ma,” she hisses mostly to herself, adding pressure when she brings the loofah between us to my stomach. It sends a jolt through my body, her touch dragging lower. As I’m about to kiss her, the blonde pulls back and drops down to her knees. As she rubs the soap into my ankle, up to my calf, I wonder what I did right to be graced by someone like this. And then she looks up at me and I feel something run through me that I had never felt before.

Paige is on her knees, blue eyes rounded and cheeks red and lips parted, looking blissful to serve me. To worship me. My hand strokes her wet hair and she bats her dark lashes, dragging her touch up my leg, rubbing the soap into my round thighs.

“This is all I need, y’know that?” She hums. “Gotta thank God every day that you even let me near you.”

“Stop,” I say without meaning it, my shallow breathing trembling as she trades the loofah for her hands.

“It’s true,” Paige kisses my inner thigh and I let out a moan. “Wanna worship you.” She kisses higher. I let my subconscious take over and spread my legs wider. “Wanna worship your mind.” Her hands squeeze my hips. “Your body.” Her nose nuzzles right next to my clit, already aching and throbbing. “Wanna worship this pussy.”

Her lips attach themselves to me like she’s been starved, the warmth of the inside of her mouth feeling like heaven against my folds. I gasp and dig my nails into her scalp as she begins to lap me up, not caring about the way the water is streaming down her face. Her tongue circles my clit. I can’t tell if it’s my wetness or the water spilling down my legs.

“Taste so fucking good,” Paige hisses before pushing two fingers inside me without warning. Not giving me time to adjust, she pumps them into my cunt. My legs shake, the hot water drips down my nipples and the strength of her digits is way too much. I’m already throbbing as her tongue flicks against my clit at a pace I didn’t know was possible.

“Paige,” I sigh, throwing my head back and yanking her hair. The girl moans, slapping my ass with the hand that’s free.

“You’re sucking me in so bad mama,” she groans, curling her fingers to hit the right spot inside my walls with practiced ease. “You gonna cum already huh?”

I don’t know how. It cannot have been longer than three minutes. But my body was submitting to her, walls clenching around her fingers. I couldn’t hold it back. 

“Sh- Shit baby,” I hiss, Paige’s lips wrapping around the sensitive bead and sucking. I pull on her hair harder, nearly regretting it because it only makes her go harder. And I fall apart.

“Oh G- baby, baby, just like that, just like that, keep going, I’m gonna cum.”

She merely nods, eyes rolling back as my walls tighten around her digits sliding in and out of my cunt and the knot in my stomach snaps.

It’s almost embarrassing how loudly I’m moaning, and even more embarrassing considering how fast it all happened. I’m spilling all over her, barely staying upright as she lets me ride it out with soft licks and the curling of her fingers.

“Shit mama,” Paige groans. “That never gets old.”

My face burns with embarrassment as she stands up and kisses me under the shower, my hair wet and sticking to my face and my back.

“Gonna have you again,” she whispers into my mouth, her hand dragging down my spine to my ass and squeezing. The exhaustion that had built up earlier was suddenly gone, my skin buzzing with each word she says. “And again and again.”

-

“I can’t believe you brought that with you,” Izzie laughs, eyeing the long silicone strap resting on my hips as I adjust the harness. She’s laying on the white sheets completely bare, black hair beginning to curl from the shower an hour ago. Or whenever. I’ve lost track of time entirely, too busy wrapped up in her.

“You really expected to be using that when you came here?” She teases, her hand coming to play and squeeze her own breast. My boxers are soaking.

“You never know,” I grin, remembering hesitating packing it. Thankfully I did. “I’m about to fuck you with it anyway aren’t I?”

The girl lets out a shaky breath, chewing on her lower lip as I tighten the harness, finally done. Walking to the bed, my hand reaches to tap her ankle, in an effort to make her spread her legs apart. My mouth already salivates at the idea of seeing her stretched out around me.

“Wait,” she hesitates, sitting up and pulling the corner of the sheets over her body. Her brows furrow with concern. “Did you… I mean… I don’t know, I was just thinking… You uh…”

I’m growing worried now too. She shifts as her cheeks redden and I sit by the end of the bed. The mattress dips with my weight.

“What baby? Talk to me.”

She takes a deep breath to steady herself. “You didn’t use that with anyone else, right?”

My chest tightens. The time I spent without her felt so far away now, even though I had been here barely a week. It was like I’d been living in a haze, in a fever dream. Nothing was real. She brought everything to life.

“No, never,” I say, taking her foot into my hand and massaging the arch. Izzie’s eyes look up at me again and I feel alive. How I could ever even imagine caring for Savannah felt like some sort of insanity. I should’ve known then, when she begged me to use the strap on her and I refused. I said I don’t like doing it. It wasn’t a complete lie. I liked doing it only with one person.

The girl lets out a sigh of relief, leaning her head back on the headboard of the bed. “I just thought you were seeing someone… At one point.”

I guess we’re having this conversation now. Butt naked. With a flesh coloured dildo on my lap. One thing Izzie didn’t care about was if it was a good time - if something was on her mind it would get talked about. No matter what.

“I mean I was for a bit,” I admit. “That Savannah girl from the pa-”

“Yeah, I remember,” Iz says bluntly. She’s not happy. It’s not fair either for her to be upset - technically she’s still with Jasper. But sometimes feelings aren’t fair. And I gotta make it better.

“But it was just a rebound,” I tell her, schooching up on the bed till I’m sitting next to her. She looks down at her lap, pulling on the sheet to stay covered. “Nun more. I could ne-”

I stop talking the second I feel my eyes watering and a single tear spills down my right cheek. Thinking about the months I spent without Iz was enough to reduce me to tears. And the fear that it might happen again terrified me. I sniffle, which causes her to lift her gaze.

“Hey, what’s wrong baby?” She asks with worry, wrapping me into her arms. I bury my face into the shoulder, wetting her skin with tears. When I pull back, my eyes are as red as my nose.

“I could never care about someone like this, you feel me?” I murmur, entangling my fingers with hers. “Made me crazy when you were gone. Didn’t even care about her, just didn’t wanna miss you. But I did. All the damn time.”

“I know,” Iz sighs, holding my face and nuzzling her nose into mine. “Was going crazy too. The whole time.”

A shaky breath spills from my lips right before she kisses me. Fiercely, lovingly, like only she could. My stomach flips as she lets the sheet fall off her.

“But you’re mine. You know that?” She whispers against my lips.

“What?” I ask flustered, looking at her wide eyed as I pull back.

“You’re all mine,” she demands with a soft voice, beginning to kiss my neck. I melt into the pillows, chest heaving with the sudden burst of need taking over. I watch as Izzie wraps her hand around the silicone, pumping it slowly like it’s an extension of me. It might as well be because I swear I can feel it. I groan.

“Tell me,” she repeats into my ear. Her breath is hot and teasing, her french manicure on display around the length.

“I-I’m yours,” I stutter, fighting the urge to throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress.

“I’m gonna remind you why,” she hums into my mouth, before kissing me again and climbing onto my lap. I needed no reminders. I knew exactly why.

“Oh shit,” I murmur realising what she’s about to do, legs shaking with mere need. Iz straddles my hips, the silicone resting against her thigh. I reach down to touch her, to help her, but the girl slaps my hand away.

“No touching,” she says. “Be good.”

My breath hitches as she reaches for the strap and lets the tip swirl against her folds. It’s already glistening, and I have to grab the sheets just to keep my hands to myself.

“Please,” I beg, nearly tearing up with need.

“What’s wrong?” She says almost sadistically. I huff.

“Wanna be inside you mommy,” I pant, eyes pleading when I meet her gaze. “Please.”

It seems to do the trick. Iz holds onto the length as she guides it to her entrance and lowers herself half way. If it was up to me she would’ve taken it all at once. A loud, guttural gasp leaves her lips and I follow behind, bucking my hips to get deeper. She moans, pressing me down onto the bed by my chest.

“Oh fuck, Paige,” she whimpers, eyes rolling back when the length disappears inside her and she starts moving her hips up and down slowly. 

“Let me touch you,” I plead. “Mommy, let me make you feel good.”

“No,” she moans, grabbing my wrists and pinning them on each side of my head. She begins moving her hips back and forth faster, the flat end of the strap rubbing against my clit enough to make me drip through my boxers.

“Fuck ma,” I whimper, eyes locked on her scrunched up face, and her breasts that are just too out of reach to take into my mouth. My legs already begin to shake and my mind spins. I barely know what’s happening - All I know is her.

Iz gets from her knees to her feet, letting me sit up against the pillows as she leans back and grabs my thighs behind her for balance. My mouth falls ajar at the sight as she spreads her legs and I can see all of her. Her pussy spread wide apart right before me, the way it’s gripping onto my dick as she moves her hips back and forth, her walls holding onto it tightly. I swear I can feel it, each stroke as it disappears into her folds and pulls back even wetter than before. She’s made a mess everywhere, all over my thighs and boxers, and her clit is puffy and red tempting me to touch it. I’m a waterfall.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” I gasp, trying to ground myself but every sight is making my mind spin more - her tits bouncing on my face with her movements as I lean forward and her eyes rolled back and pretty lips ajar as she chases her orgasm. “Holy shit, Iz, keep doin’ that.”

I’m sure I’m dripping onto the sheets, much like she is. As she rides my dick it presses into my clit, and my walls begin to tighten around nothing. I know I’m not gonna last long with her like this. She’s whimpering and the only sound beside her high-pitched moans is the sound of her pussy getting filled up by my dick with each thrust. I could watch her like this forever.

Iz grabs the back of my head and guides my mouth to her tits. My warm tongue circles her hard nipple before taking it between my lips and sucking just the way she likes. I can feel her gush all over me, and in a moment of haziness I bring my hand to her ass and slap it. She lets me, too far gone to hold onto her rules from earlier.

“P-Paige, shit,” she cries. “Feel so good, you’re so big.”

“I’m all yours mommy,” I whimper. “You own this dick.”

A loud moan leaves her lips. Her movements turn tired, desperate, sloppy. She’s almost there. I bury the urge to fuck it into her, letting Iz get to it on her own.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” I grunt. “Ride me so good gonna make me cum.”

“You’re gonna cum inside me?” She asks. She looks delirious, bouncing on the length so hard I’m sure you could hear skin slapping from the other side of the hotel door.

“Mhm mommy, gonna cum inside this pussy,” I groan, I swear I can feel it - my dick buried deep inside her, her warmth, her wetness, how tight she is, how much she’s throbbing around me like she wants my load. The thought does it - I’m already on the edge.

“Shit, mommy, I’m gonna cum,” I warn her, knowing if she keeps going I won’t be able to hold back.

“Not yet,” she cries out, still chasing hers. I kiss her neck, my eyes watering with pleasure.

“Please, baby I can’t hold it.”

“Oh sh-” she cries out. I reach my hands to her ass and help her movements, guiding her to keep bouncing with as much force as she could take. I can feel her body trembling against my touch. I know she’s right there.

“Good girl,” I tell her. “Just like that mama, just like that.” I take deep breaths, trying to hold back my climax that’s right behind the corner. “Aw fu- keep fucking going. Don’t stop.”

“Baby,” she cries out. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum on my dick?” I whimper, eyes locked on her expression. “This pussy’s so fucking wet.”

“It’s your pussy baby,” she moans. “You own me.”

“Yea that’s right,” I tell her. “I own this pussy.”

“You’re so deep,” she cries, getting a burst of energy and starting to bounce faster. I slap her ass, holding onto it. Her cunt is so loud, but it only makes it harder to hold back. 

“Shit,” I cry out, a single tear spilling from the corner of my eye. “I can’t hold it.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?” She asks between gasps, grabbing hold of my shoulders for balance. I nod desperately.

“Need you to cum on my dick.”

“Oh-” she gasps, and without warning I can tell she’s doing just that. I finally let go, my pussy throbbing as my climax crashes over me like a sdfds. We’re both delirious, moaning and rambling and keeping up with our desperate movements as we reach our peaks.

As her high-pitched gasps quiet down, Iz crashes into my arms, my length still buried inside her.

”Holy shit,” she pants. I pull her into me, kissing the top of her head and letting my fingers draw patterns on her spine.

”Couldn’t have said it better myself,” I whisper, inhaling the scent of her hair. ”Should make you jealous more often.”

She slaps my cheek playfully, scoffing loudly. ”You don’t wanna get in trouble with me.”

”I won’t if you ride me like that again baby,” I say, my voice hoarse from everything she pulled out of me. Iz lifts her head, beaming.

”You liked it?” She asks. 

”Oh my God,” I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief. ”That was the best sex we ever had. And we’ve had sum pretty good sex.”

Her giggles are interrupted with a soft moan as I buck my hips, forcing the strap to slip deeper into her again.

”Stop,” she laughs lightheartedly and I pull out of her, undo the harness and toss it somewhere on the floor. Iz waits patiently beside me, pulling me into her body when it’s finally off.

We lie there for a while in complete silence, our naked bodies pressed against one another. I feel her expand into me as she breathes in, enveloping me with her scent. The sheets cling to our skins but we couldn’t care less.

”I had such a good day today,” she hums into the crook of my neck. Her nails scratch up and down my bare back.

”Me too,” I breathe out. Maybe now it’s a safe time to bring it up. ”About your mom-”

She quiets me with a kiss. 

”It’s okay. I don’t care,” she assures me. My eyes meet hers and a jolt runs through me. She’s really the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. How the hell did I get that lucky. It’s like she can tell what I’m thinking because her cheeks flush red.

”Maybe you can talk to he-”

But she places a finger on my lip, shutting me up. With a sly smile she kisses me again.

”It just is what it is,” she assures me. ”Besides, it’s worth it.”

”It is?” I ask, entangling my fingers with hers.

Iz nods, the smile falling off her face. The air in the room switches and butterflies flutter somewhere in my stomach.

”Paige?” My name is barely audible in her trembling voice. Shivers travel up my arms.

”Yeah?” I breathe.

She exhales, green forest eyes buried in mine when she opens her lips. ”I love you too.”

Now I know the reason I’m here. Forget the landmarks, the history. This is what I came here for.

Just like that, London became more than a city. It became us.

-

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