#[if you want me to change anything just tell me!]

[pellucid-constellations]

I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?” 

“Not particularly.” 

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn. 

The third sigh was your breaking point. 

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?” 

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.” 

“Oh, well in that case—” 

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily. 

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?” 

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.” 

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind. 

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…” 

Mor trailed off. 

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?” 

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.” 

“Tell me anyways.” 

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.” 

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—” 

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.” 

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap. 

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault. 

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you. 

But it was this. 

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been. 

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.” 

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence. 

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door. 

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock. 

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.  

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that. 

“Hi.” 

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes. 

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be. 

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…” 

“No, I—Come in.” 

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room. 

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked. 

Something inside of you hurt. 

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.” 

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched. 

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.” 

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n.  I care about you more than anything—I love you.” 

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?” 

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?” 

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin. 

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—” 

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—” 

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.” 

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—” 

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.” 

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair. 

Gods, you missed him. 

You missed him and everything hurt. 

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change. 

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.” 

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.” 

“You can, angel.” 

“I need to know that you love me.” 

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze. 

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.” 

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.” 

“I love you.” 

"I know you do, Az. I know."

[genderqueerdykes]

Is it true that T gel is not as effective as shots are and that you cannot truly transition if you get the gel? Asking as a transmasc whos deathly afraid of needles

hello there!

fortunately, nope, that's not true! that's misinformation that gets spread around like crazy. every single person on this earth will respond differently to medications- just because one person did not receive the benefits they wanted from topical hormone gels (estrogen or testosterone) does not mean everyone else will have the same reaction!

there are folks who will get nothing out of it at all due to certain health conditions, genetics, or other factors, but that does not make the medication wholesale ineffective. there are also people who do not respond well to or process injectable testosterone- every person reacts to medications differently. it's best to take it on a case-by-case basis, as some won't get anything, but some will see the full spectrum of effects. it just depends on your body chemistry and how you personally react to medications

there are many trans people who transition with T gel only! you can absolutely fully medically transition with T gel. you are able to adjust your dose as needed, so you can tailor it to your needs just like injectable T. i took topical T for a few years and it still gave me all the benefits of injectable! including stopping my periods

i think some people struggle with T gel because they do not follow the instructions properly. i've actually met a few transmascs who shower their T gel off RIGHT after they've put it on, thinking the medication absorbs immediately. it is recommended to not shower or swim for several hours (usually around the 4 - 5 hour mark) to make sure all of the medication absorbs. if you do this and are not showing results from your gel, this is why. please don't immediately shower your T gel off! a lot of people also apply their gel to the wrong areas of the body: if you start topical T, your specific formulation will come with a guide showing you where to apply it. applying it in other areas may not work as well

it's a completely viable option, especially for people with shaky hands, needle trauma, or are squeamish. i hope that helps! topical T is not "weaker" than injectable- your skin is actually one of the areas of your body that has the some of the highest bioavailability when it comes to medications, meaning that your skin is excellent at absorbing topical medications and getting as much as possible out of them. as long as you do not have a condition that makes it difficult for your skin to absorb medications, its should affect you just as much as injectable would.

this is not a guarantee, as everyone is affected by medications differently. you may not have a condition that prevents you from absorbing medication through the skin and still struggle. everyone reacts differently- genetics, body chemistry, there are a lot of factors that can change how a person will react. it will depend greatly on who you are as a person.

usually there's not really a way to tell if it will work for someone until they try, so your mileage will vary, but the topical T is not on the whole weaker, or ineffective. it's important to talk about how it doesn't affect some people, but it's also important to talk about how it works great for many. like any medication, experiences with it will vary greatly from person to person and that's not a reflection that the medication is bad or ineffective, that's just normal for medication.

hope that helps!

[alexwilltellyouthings]

What if the confession happened as Edwin planned?

"I've been realizing that I..."

Charles is staring intently. Edwin can see he has no clue what's coming and it makes it easier and harder at the same time.

He almost wishes they were interrupted. Almost.

"I...", Edwin loses his words again, and looks down, sideways, trying to gather his courage anywhere else as if he doesn't know Charles' eyes are the only right place to look at.

For once, Charles doesn't say anything, sensing he needs time. Still, Edwin sees a frown just starting to form, and knows he has to get this over with for both of their sakes.

"It is not Monty", he says quickly, gazing back at Charles, "that I like".

Charles properly frowns now. After a couple of seconds, his expression changes entirely, going from confused to bewildered, and Edwin reads him easily.

"Not the Cat King, either."

Charles breathes out, breaking his composure entirely. "Thank God, mate. I mean, I wouldn't judge your taste or anything..."

Edwin raises an eyebrow and Charles chuckles.

"Okay, maybe I would, so I'm glad it's not him. But then who...?"

Edwin feels his throat close. Charles is searching him, waiting for an answer he, by all means, should know.

Edwin just stares back for a second, then two, then three, until Charles is not confused anymore. The crease between his eyebrows slowly fades and his lips part open just slightly.

Edwin gulps. "Who else?", he nearly whispers.

Charles' eyes are franctically moving between Edwin's and he tries to say something, but doesn't seem to be able to form any proper words.

Edwin rushes to continue, "You don't have to feel the same. I just needed to tell you".

And while it feels like every part of him is burning, Edwin still doesn't think this is over, not yet, so he licks his lips nervously and adds quietly: "That I'm in love with you".

That hits Charles so strongly he sways a little bit, and only then looks away.

"I, uh", he starts stupidly. "Edwin, I don't even..."

"You don't have to say anything..."

"No, but I want to", Charles says, and his own words bring him back to a steadier mindset. He takes a deep breath and sets his hands over Edwin's shoulders. "Edwin, you're my best mate. That'll never change. You're the most important person in the world to me, okay?"

Edwin nods, feeling as if it wasn't for Charles' hands, he would be combusting.

"And I don't..." Charles' grip gets a little tighter for a moment. "I don't know what that means right now, for us, or for me, but we have all the time in the world to figure it out, yeah?"

Edwin smiles without meaning to. He notices his eyes are tearful, for some reason, and Charles smiles back while bringing a hand up to dry Edwin's cheeks as those tears fall down.

"Thank you for telling me", Charles completes, and pulls Edwin into a hug.

Edwin allows it and allows himself to melt into the embrace. He agrees — they have all the time in the world, and this is just the beginning.

[transgendz]

Cool, so my roommate has a ticket she needs paid tomorrow, and she didn't tell me almost midnight because she really thought she could handle it on her own. I am the main supporter of this household, and my job has been 2 weeks or more late with my check (almost 3 rn for one of them). I have a new job, but I just started training, and I'm not certain when that first check will be yet. Things are dire. We have a bill overdue and rent due on the first.

So, I have an art blog where I take requests and commissions, as well as selling finishshed pieces. Examples below. Dm me there for that @theartistrans and Dm me for proof or details on this situation if you want. I'll update as things change, I expect an update on my late pay from my original job, and news on when I get the check for the new one, just not sure when. Goal rn is for her ticket only, but anything beyond that will go towards covering the rest of this mess, hopefully before my birthday.

Kofi $C PP V

$0/$300

[lotus-lost-n-found]

Some Batfam Headcanons because the brain never stops;

Jason hates being called "Bruce's Son". But he hates it more when hes called "One of Wayne's Orphans/Wayne's child" because fuck you I'm his son-! wait no--

With the exception of Damian, they rarely refer to Bruce as "Dad/Father". Either it didn't occur to them/didn't see the need to/thought it would be strange. But when Dick/Jason/Tim/Cass are tired or injured it might slip out. And Bruce might just crumble a bit at it

Doesn't mean they don't say it to their siblings when Bruce is out of Earshot.

"Dad said you couldn't." "What do you mean Dad said I couldn't use that mug? It's my mug!" "You snooze you lose Timmy Boy-" "Jason don't be an asshole-"

That being said Bruce says "son/daughter/child" at every available opportunity he can after he knows that they have acclimated enough that they wouldn't be uncomfortable/know they can tell Bruce that they don't want to be called that.

First time Bruce called Dick "son" in a way that meant "You are my kid" and not in a "This police officer just called me son with a brow furrow" way Dick grinned and carried on with the conversation. Later he wondered if his dad wouldn't like someone else calling him Son; but Dick thinks about the life he was given because of Bruce and thinks maybe his dad wouldn't mind.

Calling Jason "son" is a hit or miss situation, even before he died. The first time it happened he was confused, he didnt think that was the relationship they had and it made everything change for him. He got frustrated--not angry--with himself and Bruce at this sudden emotional turmoil. Wasn't he just the kid Bruce picked up in an alleyway? Wasn't he just some street rat in bright Robin clothing? (He lets himself believe that he can be Bruce's son. If for only a little while).

Tim cries after Bruce is out of earshot, it would've been a year or so after his parents died and he was adopted. He didn't think he could have been wanted like that again. Even if you think the Drake's had A+ Parenting or not, I don't think he would have gotten a lot of confirmation of being wanted otherwise.

Cass smiles, emotions carefully concealed under her expression. She's grateful she found Bruce and he doesn't mention it if she leans a bit closer in a request for closeness.

Damian doesn't expect anything less, he only appears satisfied. But also relieved that he has gotten the confirmation that yes, Bruce wants and accepts him.

[paper-mario-wiki]

hey so …question.

i was raised male. biologically female. it’s for very greek hero reasoning, i promise. nothing boring ever happens in my family.

i don’t want to be male. i want to be female. would it be appropriate to call myself a trans woman? it’s something i like using…but i don’t want to appropriate or anything.

hmmm

"trans" is a modifier word, right? that's why it's important to leave a space in "transwoman", because there's no such thing as a entity that is a "transwoman", there is only "a woman that is trans". i consider myself to be a woman. i often say "trans woman", but only because i usually like to describe myself as accurately as possible.

the meaning in the word "trans" is from the relevant change made in one's life. being raised as a boy, i never had anyone teach me to do my makeup, or to put on a dress. during thanksgiving and christmas i was never expected to be in the kitchen with all my sisters and aunts, because that wasn't seen as my responsibility. i don't know how to braid my hair-- i didn't even know how to tie a ponytail for the longest time. all of these things are things i've had to learn as an adult in order for me to start fitting into the social expectations of womanhood. those things are what i'd consider to have been the bulk of the effort in my "transition" so far, and none of them are biological.

if we are going by the bio-essentialist argument (that is to say, the taxonomic origins of the terms "trans man" and "trans woman"), then i'd say "no, you cant use it, because you are biologically female". but then, what's the point of being supportive of trans people if we're still capitulating to the standards of qualification the people oppressing us set?

can i use this reasoning to tell you empirically "yeah you can use this term"? i dont think so, but that's just because of how damn specific your situation is. i have very little knowledge about your actual life, so i dont know how much of a transition you'll have to make to start feeling comfortable as a woman. but hopefully this'll at least give you some perspective on figuring it out for yourself.

[meangirls-imagines]

Hey! Can I request a Regina x Reader fic where Regina sees you talking to another girl who, in Regina’s opinion, is a wannabe of Regina. She’s somewhat touchy with you so of course Regina gets mad at you. You’re confused on why Regina is mad at you at first, which makes her angrier. You go to Gretchen for help. Then when you do know what it’s about, you spend the rest of the day grovelling at Regina’s feet until she decides to forgive you. She doesn’t hesitate to tell you how much of a Regina-wannabe the girl you were talking to is, though.

Wannabe Blondie

Summary: Regina's unwanted wannabe gets too close to you. Regina being Regina doesn't take to kindly to that. Thanks to Gretchen, you figure it out and grovel to your girl.

WARNINGS: suggestive, jealous Regina, aggressive Regina, fluff

Regina George was one in a million.

So she thought.

Until a girl named Ashley Cunningham showed up to North Shore.

Regina didn't have a problem with it. She was a changed woman who didn't get mad at petty things but things...changed.

Ashley started dressing like her, acting like her, duplicating her routines, etc..

Now, Regina loved her admirers but there was something...different about this. It was like she was trying to actively become Regina, which the original recipe herself was going to brush off.

Until the bitch decided to involve Y/N.

Y/N and Regina had been dating since Spring Fling their junior year, after everything happened. Regina had never been happier. Y/N treated her well, respected her, took care of her. The greenest flag a girl could be.

On Monday, Y/N had met Regina at the blonde's locker. Regina smiled as the girl approached, pecking her lips. "Hi sweetie. Ready to go?" Y/N smiled and sighed. "I wish I could, mama, but Mr. Rapp is having me tutor some sophomore girl."

Regina's brow furrowed. "Who?" Y/N thought for a second and then remembered.

"Some girl named Ashley Cunningham."

What. The. Fuck

Regina plastered on a fake smile. "Sounds great baby. Just come over when you're done?" Y/N smiled and nodded and kissed the blonde's cheek. "It won't be too bad."

It was bad. Very bad.

It seemed every time Regina wanted to hang out with Y/N, Ashley somehow, someway, always butted in.

"Y/N, I need help with these problems."

"Y/N, I don't get this."

And bless her girlfriend's heart. Y/N had always been oblivious, that's what took them so long to get together. As the days went on, Regina began to notice how Ashley adopted her mannerisms.

Pink on Wednesdays, doing her hair like Regina's, figuring out her perfume and buying it. It was creeping Regina out. But it was also pissing her off because there is only ONE Regina George.

The last day of this nightmare, Regina decided to pay her girl a visit during her last tutoring session with the spawn of Satan. She walked into the library and automatically saw Y/N and Ashley at a table. Y/N was overlooking Ashley's paper and Ashley seemed to be leaning closer and closer to Y/N.

Regina made her way over quietly. "Okay. Everything looks good. Just go give this to Mr. Rapp and you should be good to go." Ashley nodded and took the paper back.

"You've been such a godsend Y/N. How can I ever repay you?" Y/N shook her head. "Don't worry about it, just trying to help." Ashley draped herself over Y/N. "Please. I'll do anything."

Y/N uncomfortably moved out of the way. "Yeah, no. I have to get to Regina." Ashley scoffed. "Why have her when I'm right here?"

Regina decided to make herself known and speak up. "Because I'm better than you in every sense." Y/N smiled at the sight of her girlfriend but was met with a glare.

Ashley scoffed again. "Sure you are." Regina towered over the girl. "I know I am. Now leave."

Ashley scurried off, leaving Y/N and Regina alone. Y/N went to talk to Regina but was met with her ice queen stare and the blonde storming off and leaving.

What the hell?

The next day, Y/N was met with the cold shoulder. No kisses, hugs, affection of any sort. She was confused as to why so she went to the only person that would know.

Gretchen.

"She's mad at you."

Y/N sighed in frustration. "Yes, Gretchen. I'm aware. Can you tell me why? Instead of pointing out the obvious." Karen went to take a sip of her drink and Gretchen stopped it from going up her nose. "What were you doing all week? With who?"

Realization hit Y/N like a brick. Oh.

She had some groveling to do.

Regina was awoken from her daily after school nap to soft kisses being planted on her cheek and neck. She smiled softly.

"So you came to grovel, hmm?"

Y/N smiled softly against her neck. "Yeah, mama. I'm sorry for the past week. I was so focused on getting the tutoring done that I didn't even realize that I was neglecting you. I'm so sorry."

Regina turned over in Y/N's arms. "I forgive you, but don't let it happen again. Especially with that wannabe." Y/N smiled. "Wannabe?" Regina scoffed. "Like you didn't notice her trying to be me.

Y/N shook her head. "No?" Regina looked at her girlfriend incredulously. "She totally was. She copied my style, my hair, my mannerisms...you really didn't notice?" Y/N shook her head.

"There's only one Regina George and it's you. That's who I pay attention to."

And when Y/N came in Monday morning looking like a lovesick idiot walking with Regina, Ashley knew she lost.

[lilacgaby]

title: i've changed, won't you see?

pairing: prohero!katsuki x reader

summary: katsuki ruined your life when you were small, giving you a life altering injury, though getting nothing more than a pat on the back. throughout his successes he can't get you out of his mind, so he sets out to make amends with you.

tags: silent voice inspired!! childhood bully katsuki :(, disabled reader, mentions of violence, angst to fluff, su1cide attempt, comfort, implied nsfw, no proofread

(a/n: i wanted to give my hand at really long works while doing drabbles in between but i have so many drafts now jajsjsj)

wc: ~4k

your eyes were always blurry around him it seemed. your hands shaking as your voice cracked, just begging him. "please leave me alone!" with all the might a five year old could muster.

they scoffed at you, they always did. "crybaby. blame your parents for not giving you a quirk. you should've moved when i told you to anyways, it's my park dont you know?" katsuki mocked, moving closer to you, noticing the card behind your back.

"stop being so mean! quirkless people don't do anything wrong!"

"quirkless don't do anything."

your chest was heaving with pain, your little heart couldn't take it. "you-- you'll never be a hero, you're too mean!"

in an act of rage, he set off an explosion. it was only meant to intimidate you but..

once the smoke settled your screams of terror filled the playground.

blood dripped on the floor, pooling in your hand as your grasped your ear. a ringing was all you could hear, it was driving you crazy.

were you crying? you couldn't tell, you couldn't hear. your eyes were shut as you were filled with panic, the smell of iron flooding your senses.

but katsuki remembered so much more.

the smell of the burned cartilage of your ear, the sight of it, or rather the lack of. the blood that wouldn't stop coming, why wasn't it stopping?

his group that usually rallied behind him was now gone, leaving him and a wailing you alone. he tried to talk to you, but you weren't responding.

he grew the courage to touch you, tapping on your shoulder slowly, but that didn't comfort you. in fact he thought it made it worse, making you bow your head in a defensive position.

he stared at you, unable to move, he was supposed to be a hero like allmight, were you right?

finally, a teacher came running to get you, an ambulance already on the way. they didn't look at katsuki, only at the pitiful state you were in.

you didn't respond to them either.

katsuki felt sick as he stood where you and the teacher had left them. he felt sick as he looked down to the remains of what he'd done to you.

he couldn't process it yet, but he felt a sickening despair and guilt be placed upon his shoulders.

one that wouldn't disappear.

he wasn't blamed for anything, only getting a quirk consolation. they thought he lost control? his parents eyed him as he tried to explain what had truely happened, he didn't know why he was trying, did he want to get punished?

but even after, nothing was done. with a lecture and a couple promises he was sent back to class with nothing done to him.

your life was changed forever though, it was apparent in the way that you seemed even more quiet and closed off. you sat in the back, never spoke to anyone, and got teary eyed when he even stood close to you.

your hair covered your ears constantly, a hearing aid peeking through the strands occasionally. the teacher never forced you to participate, none of them ever made an effort.

the teacher had explained to the class how you were completely deaf in one ear, and extremely hard of hearing in the other. how you'd use sign language from now on, and that the class would learn some in support. they never did though, the conversation going ignored as soon as it was uttered.

you were pulled out of class often, the teacher having to tap you on the shoulder to get your attention. your eyes dejected and your presence small as the person who came to get you made gestures with their hands to you.

you'd been cruelly placed in matching classes 'til your last years of junior high. you'd stayed the same way for forever, it was like a weight placed over his chest.

yet he felt he deserved it. he knew he was messed up. he watched you, a lot. he saw you in the back corners, usually forgotten and ignored. when you were acknowledged you were mocked, people making random hand signs to make fun of the way he forced you to communicate, mocking your unconfident speech right after.

he saw the way you sunk into yourself afterwards, making his heart hurt as you grew impossibly smaller. your hands held your own as you prayed for it to be over.

everytime you'd catch him in the halls, you'd still freeze up. your breath shaky as you bowed and left quickly, making his friends laugh but make him queasy.

that interaction was witnessed by your teacher who, after a day of you not showing up, assigned him to give you your work for the day.

with sweaty palms and a racing heart, he dropped by your house. he knew where it was, of course he did, your mom and his were close industry friends even after the incident.

because you'd never told anyone about what he'd do to you.

he knocked on the door, attempting to seem nonchalant. when you answered though, he felt his heart lurch in his chest.

"[name], uh-- this is your work."

you didn't respond, you looked almost nauseous at the sight of him, it was deserved though.

he placed your work on the floor and walked off, that was the only time he'd spoken to you since the incident,

and he couldn't even apologize.

- - -

U-A wouldn't only be a dream for him, but a release for you both. was it selfish to want to run away from his problems? sure, but it'd help you too.

as everyone in the class exclaimed the names of the schools they picked, unsurprised at katsuki's choice, he pondered on where you'd go.

nobody asked you, so you didn't speak. staying quiet as you looked out the window.

katsuki got accepted into U-A easily, but he couldn't help but feel he lacked the main criteria. he'd hurt people poorly, and couldn't apologize because of his ego.

he felt sick to accept these accomplishments of his, knowing it'd be built up on the foundation of hurting you.

but he did anyway, selfishly. he kept up his harsh demeanor in U-A anyways, working hard and scoring high. he graduated top of his class, job offers to agencies left and right.

he accepted one, working for his old internship officially now. he climbed the ranks quickly, saving lives and catching the attention of the media.

a couple years later, he was a steady number five hero when he took a patrol route over for deku. as he strolled through the city, stores littering the buildings, he saw someone he never thought he'd see again.

you, only now working for your mothers seamstress company. you were embroidering something on the station, hands precise and focused, not noticing him.

he had to keep moving, but.. he made a mental note to come back later.

he finished his patrol anxious, he went to sleep thinking of what he'd even say to you. 'hey sorry for ruining your life, can you forgive me?' he slapped his forehead in frustration.

he searched up basic sign language for beginners, learning a bit. he laughed at the stupid thoughts of your forgiveness that he dreamt of.

"as if i deserve it." he muttered, looking deeply at the ceiling of his room before falling asleep.

as soon as he awoke, he got dressed and prepared. he tried to look causal, as if he wasn't planning this.

he walked in, immediately greeted by your mother who congratulated him on his heroics. "well isn't that dynamite? saving the world i see."

he laughed politely. "i'll be number one soon enough."

"of course! well, what're you looking for? i'll give you a family discount, you grew up so close to [name] didn't you?"

his heart jumped into his throat.

"uh.. we did."

"you two were so adorable! she was so nervous around you, she must've had a crush on you or something!"

"i definitely don't think so."

"oh, you're just being modest." she said, hitting his arm lightly. "there she is now, go and speak to her."

"uh-- i--"

"go!" she shoved him in your direction, making you look up to see him. your lips parted in an unrecognizable expression as you saw him, the line you were working on now crooked as you were left alone together.

it's been about ten years hadn't it? ten years since he last saw you, but a lifetime he needed to apologize for.

he'd learned so much in U-A, outwardly changing his demeanor to what he always aspired to be. but all that meant nothing to you, who only experienced him at his worst.

he awkwardly raised his hand up to you, he did his best to sign while speaking, his hands shaky and unconfident. "hi [name], i'm really sorry about what happened back then."

your eyes followed the movements, your hands absentmindedly wrapping around yourself loosely, defensively.

"i know this is a lot but,

can we be friends?"

he waited anxiously for you to answer, you looking as if you were processing it.

in a grown up, yet timid voice, one that he hadn't heard since you were young, you almost whispered, signing as you did so out of reflex. "thank you, bakugo." your eyes grew watery. great, he just couldn't seem to stop making you cry.

he sat near you after getting wordless permission to, hanging onto every word you spoke, and being mindful to speak in a calm tone himself.

"i.. i'd like a friend, honestly. a new one anyways."

he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when you said that, but still, it wasn't enough.

he wanted to, no needed to make you happy. the years of torment he subjected you to couldn't be made up by anything less than years of happiness.

after a bit of small talk, him asking you questions about what you'd been up to, how your life was treating you. he zoned out a couple times, thinking of how beautiful you've become.

"what would make you happy, [name]?" he finally said, his head supported on his hand as he gazed at you, making sure to enunciate his words so you could read his lips.

"what makes you ask?"

"i-- i want to make you happy. no matter the cost, it's what you deserve."

she laughed softly at that, her eyes flickering with an indistinguishable expression. "...i always wanted to travel. around the world, to see mountains and landscapes."

"then i'll take you."

"you don't have t--"

"i do. and ill do more [name], what i did to you was-- is horrible. you know that."

"i..

okay, okay bakugo."

"katsuki."

you smiled, "katsuki."

going from having very limited contact with your only friend from high school, to having a prohero come to your shop everyday was jarring. but not unwelcomed.

he brought gifts with him everytime, learning what you'd like and not. it ranged from food to stuffed animals, flowers to accessories, all of which you really appreciated.

you grew closer, eventually starting to meet outside of your mother's shop. at the park or walking around the mall, he'd take you anywhere you wanted to go. he'd pay for everything too, despite your reluctance.

he kept his word to you, and at the end of the month he asked you to come up to his apartment.

a penthouse.

as you walked in, greeted by the shimmering atmosphere of the expensive furniture and decor all around, abstract paintings and trophies littering shelves on the walls.

you stood by the front entrance, taking off your shoes as you walked in. "katsuki?" you asked, looking around.

he came out, a tiny smile on his face. "ya made it." he had something behind his back, "come in [name]."

the apartment was huge to say the least, it becoming even bigger than it looked from the entrance. he guided you to his plush couch, sitting next to you.

"so, i know you said you dreamt of traveling, right?"

at your nod, he pulled out the tickets from behind his back. "i.. got this tickets for you. i didn't want to push it in case you didn't want me to go with you but--"

you cut him off with a hug, tackling him into the couch.

"of course i want you to come,

katsuki."

you signed his name differently than other times,

you'd finally made a name for him.

he hugged back mindfully, so excited to finally have a huge first step in the right direction.

but he still needed to make you happy. "we'll leave in two days if that's okay, i just wanted to give you time to pack."

"okay, that's good."

"do you.. want to stay?" he asked nervously, the thought had popped into his mind and out his mouth in a millisecond.

you blinked, sitting up on his legs, pondering it over.

"sure, okay."

he put on some movies for the two of you, his heart was racing at the proximity of your body to his.

the night ended with you laid on top of him, fast asleep as he was comforted by the beating of your heart against his. your chest against his, his hand in your hair as your head laid in his neck.

he woke up first, to the sight of the gold light making you look heavenly, your hair messy from how he was playing with it throughout the night. your face was almost against his, he could kiss you right now.

but he shouldn't. he would move but he didn't want to couldn't, so he looked you over. you woke up to the feeling of his fingers caressing your face, your eyes half lidded from sleep.

"'suki. g'morning."

his heart was getting used to irregularly pounding around you at this point. "[name], uh-- hi."

after a couple moments, you got off of him, much to his discontent. his hands sliding down your legs as you got up.

"i'll be going now, i gotta pack and stuff." you said, looking in one of the many mirrors scattered around as you fixed your appearance as much as you could.

he nodded. "let me walk you home at least."

and he did walk you home, hand in hand.

those two nights he spent pondering over you. he didn't know why, but hero work felt much lighter after talking it out with you. becoming your friend was one of the best things he'd achieved in years, and that was including his recent rankings.

he thought back to how he treated you as a kid, had he really just been searching for your validation all along?

is that why it hurt when you told him he'd never amount to his dreams, because he only valued your opinion?

he let himself sleep, he'd see you tomorrow. and he'd make it all right.

he woke up and picked you up at your place, his expensive sports car standing out against the comfort of the neighborhood. you walked out, dressed simply but cute, a bag of your own in hand.

he grabbed it from you and placed it in the back, opening the passenger door for you as he drove to the airport. his hand on your thigh as he did so, letting you play the music you'd like with loud bass.

it was a half hour ride in comfortable silence, he gazed at you occasionally, a thoughtful expression on your face.

on the plane, you sat by the window. it was first class so you'd get to sleep in a physical bed, in a closed room. you were treated to whatever food and drinks you wanted, hugging katsuki when you found out you where you were heading.

the flight was a long eighteen hours, but it was spent hanging out with katsuki. on his lap asking him questions about the shows you two had watched, power scaling arguments about past heroes, fights he'd recently been in.

also what you two planned to do as you were there, you wanted to go to the beaches and mountains, he just wanted to follow you.

you fell asleep together again, your face laid directly in his chest as he held you.

you woke up to katsuki tapping you on the shoulder. as you raised the volume on your aids, you heard the beeping on the intercoms that meant you'd have to go back to your seats for the landing, groggily being helped up by katsuki as he moved you to to your seats.

you sat by the windows, looking at the tropical region as you two landed, your hand still in his. the moments after we're a blur, before you knew it you were in a car being buckled up by katsuki as you were being driven to your hotel.

what you didn't know was that it was a villa, built on top of the waters of the ocean, your very own private beach right outside your doors with the mountains you'd dreamt of treking right behind you.

you'd never been so happy.

the days you'd spent started and ended all the same, you waking up and going to sleep in katsuki's arms. pretending like you didn't notice how your bed hair got worsened after he played with it all night.

the first days you'd spent at the beach, attempting and failing at surfing. your jet lag was killed off by your utter excitement.

you being thankful your aids were water resistant because of how much you loved the waters of the river and the seas.

you'd had a sandcastle competition, sunbathed, and soaked off in the hot tub of your villa together.

the trek's were fun too, katsuki was annoyingly good at everything so you'd have to fight to keep up.

your polaroid in hand as you snapped candid shots of him, turning it to yourself as you got a selfie of you two with the gorgeous rivers as background.

you jumped into those too, making katsuki freak out as you dived in to the deep waters.

you even got to the top one day, jokingly saying that you should've brought a flag to the top to celebrate. the golden hours of the sunset making you glimmer.

a moment of silence passed over you as he slowly approached you, wordlessly asking for permission as you once again put your hands in his.

you leaned in first, kissing him with the sun as witness.

"i really like you [name]." he sighed and spoke after you pulled away.

"i like you too." you replied, hugging him tightly.

the rest of your trip was filled with your firsts with katsuki.

your first official date was in the burrows of the forest, a picnic where you two painted portraits of eachother. albeit, unique portraits... but painting nonetheless.

your first moment truly loving someone, the feeling you recognized as you laid him in your lap for the first time.

your first talk about what happened all those years ago. a deep one.

"[name], before we become something um.. official. we need to talk about how i hurt you." katsuki said one day, laying faced to you but taking your hands into his.

"kats--"

"let me speak. please." after you nodded, he took a breath and began.

"i was egotistical and really insecure all those years. you were the only one who really read me, that's why i think i got so upset.

i didn't mean to hurt you, i never wanted to hurt anyone i swear-- i just hated that you were right.

that weighed over me all these years, the fact that my hero work meant nothing if i was doing it while acting so.. unheroic.

i never fully felt like a hero, not until i met you again.

not until you graced me with your friendship, your undeserved affection towards me. i just-- i really care about you. and im really sorry, ill spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, and you don't have to accept it because i don't deserve it.

i guess what i'm trying to say is..

sorry, and.. i love you [name].

you don't have to--"

he was cut off by a kiss on his lips.

it felt different somehow, he couldn't place it. almost sad in a way as you pulled back.

"i don't think you were trying to hurt me. but, you did.

and you're working to change it, i appreciate that.

i really care for you too katsuki."

the rest of your trip was comfortingly domestic, learning things about each other you'd never know.

your last week was bittersweet, having to leave your jointed paradise was a reality that saddened the both of you. but your dream was fulfilled, and so was his.

seeing that he was the cause of your smiles and not your horror, making you happy was the light of his day. no, his life.

he thinks he was born to make you happy.

the flight back was a blur, you spent it clinging to him. you started to gift him your own things over the hours, a scrunchie of yours, a bracelet for him to keep.

a locket with a photo of you two, and the polaroid you'd taken on the mountains.

"why are you giving this all to me? not that i'm complaining."

"well, you'll get more use out of it. that's all."

he scrunched his face up in confusion, but with a smile you waved off his concerns.

he wished he pushed you more.

he wished that you'd forgive him for failing you once again, as he fought to take the razor blade out of your grip, slicing your hand in the process.

you were in your bathtub, surrounded by water yet fully clothed, tears and wails wracking your body as you just wanted it to be over.

you finally relented, your blood staining his clothes and the water as he picked you up. you couldn't hear him, you'd taken out your aid.

but you could feel his sobs, his tears hitting you as you shut your eyes, embarrassed of what you'd just done.

you were rushed to the hospital and given stitches, you were to be closely watched from your mom now on, you were told by an interpreter.

katsuki's eyes were red, matching his pupils as he looked at you.

he was frustrated, you could see it in the trembling of his fists and the scowl in his mouth. if he hadn't been there.. you would be dead.

why, he asked you. and to be honest, you really couldn't explain it yourself.

when you got home to your apartment, empty and reminding of your reality away from katsuki, you just felt so..

scared. what would happen when he finally got the validation he needed and left you? your whole life was quiet and tranquil, you'd gotten used to it. but he flipped it upside down again, showed you what your life really could be.

it was too much for you. you had to escape, so after sitting on it, tapping your leg anxiously as you pondered your decision, you went on your phone.

you went online and saw his life outside of you, how he had everything going for him yet what did you really have? a mom and a job at her company?

you grew impulsive, grabbing it absentmindedly and filling up the tub with the water you grown to love over the past month.

after you started bleeding, you panicked. what had you just done? but it was too late..

until he saved you from yourself.

you were zoning out. when you didn't answer him, he repeated himself, grabbing the interpreter so you could sign.

but still you said nothing, except a small sorry.

he left afterwards, leaving you alone in the bed to think.

you were back in your childhood room now, your mom having sobbed as she looked over your hands, as she asked you, "what the hell were you thinking?"

you looked at those glow in the dark stars and tried to find an answer, but there was none.

you held yourself to sleep for the first time in months, already missing him deeply.

little did you know, he was thinking about you too.

the next morning you awoke to a knock on your bedroom door. assuming it was your mom, you got up and opened it.

it was katsuki instead, holding a bouquet of flowers and the locket you'd given him.

"can i come in?"

you opened the door wider, leading him to sit on your bed.

"katsuki i--"

"[name]. i don't know why you did what you did.. but i know it probably has something to do with me. so what did i do wrong?" he looked defeated, as if he thought it was his fault you tried to end your life.

"no! no that wasn't it at all. well, it was about you but not like that.

it's just.. i've been alone. for so long? having you around felt.. too good to be true. i didn't want to go back to how i was before. in a way, you were too good for me."

"you're.. an idiot. but i guess i understand."

"i just.. i really love how you treat me. i didn't want it to go away."

a moment of silence passes, a small anxious laugh leaving katsuki's lips.

"fuck, i thought you hated me. could barely sleep without you."

he pulled you into him, staring deeply into your eyes as he pulled you impossibly closer. he kissed you deeply. his worries, passions, and frustrations all poured out into it.

he pulled away, eyes half lidded as he asked gruffly.

"wanna take this back to my place?"

he took your last first away, gentle and loving as he guided you through it. reassuring you that he'd never leave you.

you moved in with him soon after, finding it hard to sleep without eachother, no matter how late he got back to your shared home.

he'd be welcomed back by the sight of you, who always tried and failed to stay up waiting for him. he'd pick you up, like always, and hug you to sleep.

he'd know he woke you up by the feeling of your smile in his chest, the way you tightened you arms around him.

he loved spending every waking moment he could with you. you were right though, he did break up with you after he got your validation.

...

but that's just an odd way to say he proposed to you, vowing to spend the rest of his life making you happy and fufiling your wishes one by one.

he changed not only himself, but the way you see yourself. he changed your relationships with yourselves and eachother for the better,

and as you walked down the aisle, your wedding planned by your two designer parents, being lavish and gorgeous. the silk on the floor being runway to your expensive shoes specially designed for you, the guests in awe of how gorgeous you are.

you both knew, you'd better eachother for better or for worse, for as long as you'd be together.

he signed 'i do', sealing the rest of your lives together,

with a kiss.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Logan's girl

Summary: Jessie's girl inspired; Jean has feelings for Logans girl and Logan over hears and gets insecure

Logan woke up to you in his arms and warmth fills him seeing you so peaceful in his arms. He hated that he had to get up, but he managed to move you away from him without waking you and he sneaked out of the room to start making breakfast for the two of you.

When he was heading to the kitchen, he overheard Jean talking to Storm while they were drinking coffee at the table in there. He didn't think anything of it and was about to continue going into the kitchen before he heard his name and your name, when he heard that he froze and started to actually listen to what she was saying.

"Logan is a great teammate, you know he's starting to be a good friend of mine but lately something changed itsn't hard to figure out, he got himself his girl and I-I really want to make her mine..." Jean admitted to Storm her feelings that she's been hiding for a while, and Logan felt his eyes widen.

He heard Storm gasps lightly "Jean you don't mean -" Jean cut her off and continued her ramble. "It's been killing me to see her watching him with those eyes, and she's loving him with that body, I-I just know it! And he's getting to hold her in his arms late at night!! I wish I was with Logan's girl, and you know I just feel so dirty when they start talking cute I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot...she really does love him doesn't she?" Jean asked weakly, already knowing what the answer was. Storm felt for her friend, but at the same time, she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

No one has ever seen this side of Logan. Logan was actually in love, he really loved his girl. Anything with eyes could tell that she was the man's soft spot, and he was really starting to soften up with everyone around him, not just her. The two of you had been together for a few months now but in that spam of time Storm could see a change in Logan that she hoped lasted. Storm just hoped Jean didn't do anything stupid and left the couple alone. Hopefully, Logan never found out how the red head felt towards his girl.

Unfortunately, he heard the whole confession. He decided that breakfast was something the two of you could go out for and went back up to the bedroom as quietly as he could. While he was heading back to your shared room he was trying to remain calm and to keep his claws in so you wouldn't be able to tell right away that he was upset about something so early in the morning.

"Baby...princess," he shook you awake. You groaned and tried to ignore him, but after a while, you admitted defeat and just woke up. "Whaaat??? It's so early, bub." You groaned louder, rubbing your eyes. Usually, hearing you call him bub resulted in him giving some sort of snarky comeback reminding you that he isnt your bub he's your handsome man, but today, it just made him drag you out of bed. "We're going to breakfast, thought we'd go to your favorite diner angel." He got the two of you dressed as you leaned against him and practically slept on him.

He had to drag you out of the mansion, he couldn't be in there anymore knowing there was someone else in there who wanted his girl. He didn't want to see Jean or Storm or anyone, and he didn't want you to be around Jean anytime soon. The two of you got to the diner alarmingly fast and as the two of you sat across from each other, you could tell something was bothering him. His jaw was locked, his brows were furrowed, and when the food arrived he was violently stabbing his eggs.

"Lo... my handsome man, what's bothering you, baby?" You asked a bit timidly, your voice was full of concern. You could tell he didn't want to tell you, he was avoiding eye contact but finally the two of you met each other's eyes and he sighed before sitting up straighter. He cleared his throat before telling you what happened, "I overheard... something today. It was um interesting?" He cringed thinking about this morning before he sighed again and continued explaining, "Jean, she said she has, she's been having feelings for my girl." His jaw clenched harder than before, something you thought was impossible and made you worry he would actually break his teeth.

"Your girl? But that's me," you said innocently with a shrug, not connecting the dots. Logan nodded with a look on his face that read, 'Don't make me say it again, please.' "Yeah, my girl princess..." He said again, waiting for it to connect in your head, and when your eyes widened, he knew that everything was connected. "Logan....I..." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You hardly knew Jean. You worked with her a handful of times, and the times you do interact, she does get flirty.

You started to think back on the times she flirted with you in the past and the incidents that may have shown her feelings clearer.

"Did you change your hair? It looks beautiful," she twirled a piece of your hair, "and it's so soft. What shampoo do you use, sweetheart?" --- then there was the time after you made dinner for everyone. She thanked you for your hard work and amazing food, and she graced your arm with her hand softly before walking away. --- or the time where during a movie night you noticed how she sent glares your way while you were cuddled up with Logan on the recliner but you had just assumed she wanted to be in his lap, not wanting to have you in her lap.

You cringed at the realization and you were praying that Logan didn't know about the flirty past few weeks. You knew this would hurt him even if he had nothing to worry about. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, he trusted you, loved you and you loved him but the idea that someone else, someone strong, pretty and younger could love you better than him just ate away at him.

When the two of you got back to the mansion you avoided Jean as the plague, it was clear that the two of you may have overheard that she had growing feelings towards you and she was devastated. She had a strong feeling that even if she didn't confess to you, she still ruined your friendship somehow. It became more clear to her that you two learned about her feelings when later that night she overheard you two moaning each other's names loudly, as if to claim one another to everyone else in the mansion. The next morning she couldn't make eye contact with you, when she did her eyes immediately went to the hickies that covered your neck.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@helpyourself-9

[willow-moon-23]

Black Cat and Her German Shepherd

Aaron Hotchner X Fem!Reader

Summary: The tables have turned and now it's time for her team to meet her spouse.

Part 1

Word Count: 2437

Standing in the kitchen, her hands braced on the counter. She takes a long slow breath. Hotch walks up behind her.

“Are you feeling ok, colonel?” He wraps his arms around her from behind.

She glances back at him. “Fine. Just thinking.”

Hotch studies her for a moment longer. “Are you worried about me meeting your team?”

(Y/N) lets out a sigh. “No.” Her answer was flat, but Hotch could tell she was fighting a lot of thoughts in her head as she glares at the cleaned dishes on the counter.

“Then what is it?” He asks patiently.

She pushes off the counter, pushing Hotch a step away as well. “My team,” She starts slowly as she turns to face him. “I’ve told you the stories. They are a motley crew of hardened soldiers. They hardly have a filter when talking to higher ups and even less of one when talking to each other.”

“I’m aware.” He nods, letting her talk through her thoughts.

“They’re good men. I trust them with my life.” She speaks slowly.

Hotch brushes her hair from her face. "But?"

(Y/N) hesitates for a moment. “I don’t know. I can’t figure out why I’m hesitating like this.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks up at her husband. “You’ve met the captain before. Only because I got hurt, but you’ve still met him and he likes you. He always asks about you when I come back from leave.”

He nods along. “He gave me his number in case anything were to happen to you.”

“Yes. He’s a good man.” She agrees with him and begins pacing. “I know they won't judge us for any reason. They might make jokes if they are comfortable enough.”

Hotch walks up to her again and holds her shoulders, effectively stopping her pacing. “You’re overthinking it. Take a breath, colonel. I’ve never seen you this worked up. Not even when you’re being deployed.”

She does as he says and takes a slow breath. “This feels more nerve-wracking than a month-long mission and I can’t figure out why.”

“Maybe there is no ‘why’.” He rubs her arms gently. “Maybe you want to be sure that both your lives can coexist and not clash. There's no harm in wanting things to go well.”

(Y/N) looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe you’re right.” She drops her head to rest against Hotch’s chest. She slowly wraps her arms around him. “Stop reading me.”

Hotch chuckles. “I didn’t have to profile you to know all of that.”

She hums. After a moment, she pushes back. “Cap and Gaz said they would be here in ten. Johnny said he’d catch a ride with Ghost. Meaning they would be late because of him.”

“Do we have everything ready for them?” Hotch’s hands rub her back idly. He glanced around the kitchen, seeing all food was ready.

“Yeah, I just need to set the table and change.” She tilts her head as she thinks.

Hotch looks her up and down. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

“I’m in workout clothes.” Her tone was flat. She looks down at her sports bra and leggings with a raised eyebrow.

“I think you look great.” He winks.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “You’re awful. I’m going to change.” She turns away from him and walks to their room. Hotch chuckles as he watches her leave the kitchen.

Once the door closes behind her, he begins taking out the silverware and glasses to set the table for her. He sets it identically to when she had made dinner for his team about a month ago. He walks around the kitchen one last time making sure everything that needs to be turned off is before walking to their room. He knocks twice before entering. Hotch smiles and walks up behind (Y/N).

“I like this shirt.” He comments, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

(Y/N) closes her eyes and hums. “You should. You bought it for me.”

“Yes, I did.” His voice was smug. Before he could compliment her again their doorbell rings.

(Y/N) chuffs. “Saved by the bell. Take a second before you come out, yeah.” She pats his chest affectionately before walking out and closing the door behind her. She smirks as she hears Hotch groan behind the door. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door. She is greeted by her captain and one of her sergeants. “Evening boys.”

“Good to see you, colonel.” Price steps forward and envelopes her in a warm hug as she lets them into her home.

She accepts his hug and turns to Gaz. “How was the flight over?”

“Not too bad. Cap slept the whole way here.” Gaz laughs and offers her his own hug.

(Y/N) shakes her head and hugs him. “No surprise there.” She hears her bedroom door open behind her and pulls back. “Boys, my husband, Aaron Hotchner.” She steps to the side as Hotch enters the space next to her.

Price was the first to extend a hand. “Good to see you again, agent.”

“Likewise, captain.” Hotch shakes his hand, with a nod.

(Y/N) motions toward Gaz. “This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick, or Gaz, as we all call him.”

“I thought he’d be taller.” Gaz stage whispers to (Y/N) before extending his hand.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “I told you he’s barely taller than you.”

Hotch takes Gaz’s hand with a chuckle noticing his wife's banter with the sergeant. “A pleasure to meet you, sergeant Garrick.”

“Gaz is fine.” The sergeant gently corrects him. Hotch nods mentally takes a note.

A loud knock at the front door had (Y/N) turning to open it. ”And there are the last two.”

The four are met with Johnny’s grinning face the second the colonel opens the door. He immediately pushes into her house, hugging her tightly. “Bonnie, it’s been too long.” He squeezes her as if he hasn’t seen her in over a year.

“It’s been three days, Johnny.” (Y/N) pushes the Scott off with a raised eyebrow.

“Three days is three too long.” He practically whines at her. Gaz and Price chuckle behind them.

“He’s been whining the whole way here.” Ghost steps into the house and closes the door behind him. The tall Lieutenant towered over all five of them in his black hoodie and face mask.

The colonel chuffs. “No surprise there.” She turns to her husband. “This-”

“John McTavish, they call me Soap.” Johnny interrupts her with a grin and eagerly shakes Hotch's hand.

“Is our other Sergeant.” (Y/N) sighs. “And this is Lieutenant Riley. He prefers Ghost. Boys, this is my husband, Aaron Hotchner.”

“Federal Agent.” Ghost looks him up and down.

“Unit Chief.” Hotch nods, taking Ghost's hand.

Ghost hums and turns to (Y/N). “How’s the side?” he jerks his chin toward her.

(Y/N) shrugs. “Healing.”

Johnny bumps Hotch's arm. “So, how ya manage to tie ‘er down?” Gaz chuckles behind Johnny. “Couldn’t ‘ave been an easy feat.”

(Y/N) lightly smacks the backside of Johnny’s head. “He didn’t tie me down.” She glares at him. “Get in the dining room before I throw you out already.”

“Awe, don’ be like that, Lass. Just poken’ a bit of fun.” Johnny grins, knowing she’s not actually mad at him.

“Go.” She points to the dining room.

Johnny holds his hand up in surrender and walks into the other room with Gaz and Ghost behind him. Price chuckles. “Pay them no mind. They were all excited when you told us to come for dinner.”

Hotch steps next to his wife and gently rests a hand on her lower back. “I’m glad you all could make it. I know you’re going back tomorrow. So it means a lot to both of us that you took the time to stop here first.”

Price smiles. “Anything for one of ours.” He turns and walks into the dining room.

(Y/N) sighs and looks up at Hotch. “Any initial thoughts?”

“Your stories of Johnny don’t do him justice.” Hotch laughs softly.

She shrugs. “He’s something else alright.”

“Come on, they’re waiting for us.” Hotch softly nudges her forward.

“Fine.” She takes his hand and heads in. She takes her seat next to Hotch’s after passing out plates to everyone and looks around the table. Her team was all happily joking with her husband as they all settled in. Her team thanks her for the meal and eagerly digs in. They haven’t had a properly cooked meal like this in a while, so they enjoy it when they can. All of them make sure (Y/N) knows how thankful they are before the questioning starts.

“So, how bad has it been, been’ married to this one?” Johnny was the first to break up the sound of utensils on plates. (Y/N) glares at Johnny.

Hotch laughs it off. “Honestly, not much has changed for us. We love spending time together. Marriage just seems to work for us.”

“He puts up with me, it’s all I can ask for.” (Y/N) chimes in as she cuts another bite to eat. Her lighthearted comment brings a chuckle to everyone.

“You have a little one, right?” Gaz leans forward to ask Hotch.

“I do. Jack is at his aunt's house right now.” Hotch smiles as he talks about Jack.

Price turns to (Y/N). “He likes you?”

“He does.” She nods. “I mean, he better, I’ve been in his life since he was born.” She looks over at Hotch with a smile.

Price chuckles. “Fair enough.” Price turns to Hotch. “She told us you were a prosecutor before working with the BAU, correct?”

“Yes, I used to work as a prosecutor. I changed fields so I could do more good than I was doing then.” Hotch easily takes over the conversation. Telling them how he felt as if he could do more good being a profiler than he ever could as a prosecutor.

Her team continues to ask more questions, mainly about Hotch’s job and how he treats (Y/N) when she's home. Once everyone was finished eating the boys immediately help (Y/N) clear the table and wash up, not that she even asked them to. If anything, she told them not to, only to be, politely, pushed aside. Hotch stands next to her as Johnny and Gaz tell him about a mission they went on where they had to detangle (Y/N) and Price from a tree after a rough landing. (Y/N) and Price exchange glances when the two add more details than were true. A few eye rolls and scoffs were shared at the story.

Once all the dishes were done and Johnny finally finished another one of his stories, (Y/N) moved everyone into the living room. There Hotch tells them a bit more about what he and his team do. The team listens eagerly, hanging onto nearly every word. (Y/N) smiles to herself as she watches them. After a minute she feels a soft tap against her shoe. She looks up to see Ghost staring at her. He nods his head toward the kitchen. (Y/N) gives him a soft nod.

“You boys want tea?” She interjects softly as Hotch finishes his thought.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

“Yes, please.”

“Sure, Lass.”

She nods as they accept. “Aaron?” She stands and looks down at her husband.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He smiles up at her.

“Ok. Give me a hand, Simon?” Ghost merely stands and follows behind her. The two walk into the kitchen as the four continue talking.

“You trust 'im?” He asks the second the two are out of earshot.

“With my life.” (Y/N) looks up at the lieutenant.

Ghost stares at her with matching seriousness. “He good to ya'?”

“Very.” She answers easily.

He nods. “If he tries anythin’.”

“You’ll be the first I call.” She interrupts his thought.

Ghost grunts. “'is team know you?”

“Met them a while back.” She nods.

He nods. After a long pause, he speaks up again. “I like 'im.”

(Y/N) chuffs. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“Don’ get cheeky.” Ghost narrows his eyes at her.

“Wouldn’t think of it.” (Y/N) turns to prepare tea for her team.

Once the tea was ready, the two brought out the cups and passed them to each member. They all say their thanks and ease back into asking questions. To Hotch’s credit he takes Gaz and Johnny’s lighthearted banter and runs with it. The night goes on with loud laughs and well-meant jabs at each other. Hotch got to sit back and watch (Y/N) and Johnny have a back-and-forth on whose fault a misplaced rifle started a five-day hunt for said rifle was. Sitting in his living room with his wife and her team allowed him to see just how close they all were and how much they cared for each other.

As the sun started to go down the team realized they should be heading out. They all said their goodbyes for the night, giving hugs to their colonel and strong gripped handshakes to Hotch. They thanked Hotch and (Y/N) for the meal and headed out the door.

Price stops by (Y/N) and rests a hand on her shoulder. “You have a lovely house. Thank you for having us over.”

“Thank you for accepting my invitation to join us.” She rests her hand over his.

“We’ll always come when you call, love.” Price smiles at her.

She returns his smile. “Drive safe.”

He gives her shoulder a light squeeze and tips the brim of his hat to her and nods to Hotch before walking to his car. (Y/N) and Hotch stand outside watching each of them get into the cars, Johnny waves at them as he and Ghost drive off first. Price and Gaz follow out the driveway.

Hotch wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Feel better?”

“I do.” She leans into him. Her hands hold his arms.

“You sure, you look pensive.” He tilts his head to look down at her.

She waves off his worry. “Price mentioned something about our next mission. It’s nothing to do with you meeting them.”

Hotch could tell she was being honest. “You think I meet their approval?”

(Y/N) nods. “Ghost likes you.”

“He barely said a word.” Hotch raises an eyebrow.

“That’s just how he is.” She shrugs. “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell, Mr. Profiler.” She teases.

“I think it was the twitch in his eye every time I touched you that made me think otherwise.” Hotch laughs. “You have a good group around you. They genuinely care for you.”

(Y/N) gives his arm a squeeze. “Yeah, they’re a good bunch.”

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 10 - A Little Lost | ‘Act II’

word count - 10k

Since the day you left Madrid, Jude had been carrying a small notebook with him everywhere he went. At first, it was just a place to spill his thoughts, a space to process the whirlwind of emotions he didn’t know how to navigate. But as soon as he wrote the first sentence, he realized that every thought, every feeling, was meant for you. The notebook became his way of speaking to you when he couldn’t, of telling you everything he had kept inside for far too long. It started with small things—mundane moments that he would’ve shared with you if you were still in his life. He wrote about away games, detailing flights that were rough with turbulence, knowing you would’ve hated them. You’d always been nervous during flights, especially when the plane shook, and he could so vividly imagine holding your hand, comforting you in that quiet, intimate way only he knew how. He wrote about a brand event he had to attend, the kind you would’ve loved. He pictured you in a stunning dress, his hand instinctively resting on the small of your back as all the people in the room transfixed on your smile and envied him. He missed the way your presence made even the dullest of events shine. But as time passed, the pages of the notebook filled with more than just small anecdotes. They became love letters—confessions he hadn’t been brave enough to say out loud. He wrote about his dreams, both the silly ones and the ones that left him aching. He told you about the night he dreamed of you in his arms, just like before, and how waking up without you felt like losing you all over again. He confessed to arguments with his teammates, like the one he had with Toby, and how in the heat of it all, he had just wanted to call you and vent, knowing you’d calm him down. He wrote about his mum, how she missed you. How she’d bring you up every now and then, asking if you were doing okay, her voice full of concern. His heart would clench every time because he didn’t know. He didn’t know if you were okay, and that uncertainty gnawed at him more than he cared to admit. But most of all, the notebook became a testament to how much he loved you. Page after page, he poured his heart out in ways he never had the courage to do while you were still together. He wrote about how he should have told you how much you meant to him when he had the chance. How he regretted every fight, every misstep, every moment he let you slip away. He described the exact moment he realized he was in love with you—how it hit him like a freight train, and how terrified he was of it. And yet, despite his fear, the feeling never left. If anything, it grew stronger with every passing day, every page he filled. There were entries where he simply wrote your name over and over, as if seeing it on the page made you feel closer to him. Others were longer, detailing his apologies—how sorry he was for everything. For not being brave enough, for letting his insecurities come between you, for pushing you away when all he wanted was to pull you closer. And then, there were the moments when his love for you spilled out uncontrollably, when he wrote about how much he still needed you. How he missed your laughter, your voice, the way your presence made everything feel right. He missed the feeling of your hand in his, the sound of your breathing when you slept next to him, the way you’d nudge him playfully when he teased you. Every small detail that made up your relationship was etched into those pages—his heart laid bare, vulnerable, and raw. Jude carried the notebook like a lifeline, as if each word he wrote to you was a tether, keeping him connected to you in some way. Even though he wasn’t sure if you’d ever read them, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop writing to you, telling you all the things he should have said while you were still his. There was one night, after a particularly bad game, where he sat alone in his hotel room, staring at the notebook. His hands trembled as he picked up the pen, the words spilling out faster than he could think. ‘I love you,’ he wrote, the words stark on the page. 

'I love you more than I know how to explain. And I’m terrified I’ll never get the chance to tell you that now. In my dreams you’re touching my face and asking me if I want to try again.'

It was the truest thing he’d ever written in that book. As the days passed, the notebook filled with his deepest fears, his sincerest apologies, and his undying love. And every time he flipped through the pages, he could feel you there, even though you were so far away. Even though you hadn’t spoken in what felt like forever. It was the only way he knew how to keep you close, even as the distance between you grew wider with every passing day. He just hoped, somehow, some way, that you’d feel it too. That maybe, one day, he could find the courage to give you the notebook, to let you see how much you had always meant to him. But for now, it was his silent confession, his love letter to the one person he couldn’t forget. There were nights when Jude found himself staring at the ceiling, the quiet of his room almost suffocating. He had the notebook nearby, as always, full of the thoughts he wished he could share with you, the words he never got to say. But tonight, it wasn't enough to just write. He missed you physically, emotionally, in every way imaginable. And though he had been longing for the closeness that came with sex, it wasn't just about that. It was the intimacy, the connection, the way your body pressed against his felt like home. The way, in those quiet moments, it was more than just physical-it was how you anchored him, how you made him feel understood and whole. Tonight, though, one memory in particular replayed over and over in his mind.

It was just after your holiday in Greece, the first time you came with him to Madrid. Everything had been easy then, carefree. Nothing had happened yet-none of the arguments, none of the jealousy, none of the heartbreak. In retrospect, Jude realized he should've known even then how special you were to him, but at the time, it had all seemed so light, so effortless. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. The sun had been scorching, golden light spilling over the back garden as you lounged by the pool, the scent of suncream and chlorine in the air. You were glowing in that tiny bikini, the one that had him doing double takes every time you moved. But it wasn't just the way you looked-though you were undeniably stunning-it was the way your laughter filled the space between you. The way it made his heart skip a beat every time you smiled, the kind of smile that reached your eyes and lit up your entire face. You'd been teasing him, like you always did, a playful gleam in your eyes as you suddenly jumped up and ran, your laughter trailing behind you. Jude remembered watching you, a mixture of joy and something deeper-something he couldn't quite put into words yet-bubbling up inside him as he chased after you. The way your skin shimmered in the sunlight, turning a different kind of gold, made his breath catch. He remembered how his hands finally caught your waist, pulling you close, your laughter turning into something softer as you pressed your lips to his neck. It was in that moment, as he held you close by the pool, your bodies slick with water and heat, that Jude had felt something shift inside him. He hadn't known what it was then-maybe he had been too afraid to name it—but he could feel it now. The way your lips on his skin felt like a fire he would gladly burn for. A fire he would willingly let consume him, over and over again. He hadn't realized it then, but it was already happening.

As he lay in bed, Jude dropped his head back into the pillow, the weight of that memory making his chest ache. He wished he could go back to that very moment-to feel the simplicity of it again, to hear your giggle echoing in his back garden as you tried to escape him, only for him to catch you and pull you back into his arms. He wanted to be back there, in the sunshine with you, before everything became so complicated. Before he messed it all up. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, frustrated at the fact that you were so far away. He missed you more than he knew how to express, and on nights like these, he felt that loss in the deepest parts of himself. It wasn't just the physical distance-it was the emotional chasm that had grown between you, a gap he didn't know how to bridge. As the memory faded, Jude reached for the notebook again, flipping to a blank page. He began to write, the pen moving across the paper as he tried to capture that feeling, that moment with you, in words. Maybe one day he'd find a way to share it with you. Maybe one day, you'd know how much that memory meant to him, how much you meant to him. But for now, it was just another secret confession, scrawled in ink, tucked away in the pages of a notebook that was quickly becoming a record of everything he was too late to say. He closed his eyes, the image of you in that bikini, laughing as you ran from him, still fresh in his mind. The ache in his chest lingered, wishing for just one more chance to hold you, to feel your warmth, to make you laugh again. He laid there for a moment and as much his heart was aching… something else began to ache. Jude couldn’t get the image of you in that bikini out of his mind. He couldn’t get the images of him taking it off you out of his mind. 

As the scorching Spanish sun beat down on the pool in the back garden, laughter and desire intertwined.  You found yourself in a playful mood, donning a skimpy bikini that showcased your gorgeous figure—a sight that immediately captured Jude's attention. He stood tall by the pool, his athletic build glistening with a light sheen of sweat. His tanned skin, a golden hue, contrasted beautifully with his deep brown eyes, which at the moment were fixed on you with unapologetic desire. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you teased him, running around the pool deck, your laughter echoing across the garden. The game of cat and mouse began, and Jude, eager to catch his prey, gives chase. You giggled as you darted between the sun loungers, feeling the warmth of the stone beneath your bare feet. His footsteps closed in on you, and just as he reached out to grab you, you let out a playful squeal. Jude's strong arms wrapped around your waist, and you found yourself enveloped in his embrace. He pulled you close, your bodies pressing together, the heat between you intensifying. You wiggled playfully, feeling the hardness of his muscular body against your soft curves. His hands roamed freely, exploring your back, sending shivers down your spine.

"Gotcha, angel!" Jude whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending a delightful tingle down your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, a perfect mix of anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. He tightened his hold, lifting you effortlessly off the ground and carrying you towards one of the plush pool loungers nearby. Gently, he laid you down, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze sent a jolt of arousal through your body. You reached up, running your hands over his hair, gripping it, pulling him closer for a kiss. His lips claimed yours passionately, and you responded eagerly, your tongues dancing in a sensual rhythm. As the kiss deepened, Jude's hands wandered, He untangled the ties of your bikini top with skilled fingers. He pulled away slightly, his eyes sparkling with lust, and then slowly he moved his lips down your body, using his teeth to untie the knot, sending a thrill through you. Your tits spilled into his waiting hands. He worshiped them with his touch, squeezing and caressing your sensitive nipples. Moans of pleasure escaped your lips as his skilled fingers worked magic, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. He lent down, replacing his fingers with his warm mouth, suckling your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. Your hands grasped his shoulders, urging him closer, craving the feeling of his skin against yours. Jude's hands traveled lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your bikini bottoms. He hooked his fingers and slid them down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze and the Madrid air. The cool breeze brushing against your heated skin, causing goosebumps to rise. His name fell from your lips in a hoarse moan the moment you felt his fingers running through your wet folds. With his fingers between your legs now, you were practically dripping for him. You looked at him with your jaw slacked and lidded eyes. He unraveled you with each movement.  His fingers making quick work sinking knuckles deep inside you. His fingers hit the perfect spot inside you with every thrust and curl of their tips. Your back arching uncontrollably. A puddle on the surface of the chair you were laying on formed, your juices running down his hand. The way his breath felt against your sin as he kissed it and the force of his fingers, it all had you rushing towards your orgasm. You whimpered with gasps of air. Your pussy was absolutely soaked but you couldn’t think, your mind had gone blank.  

“Let go, baby. Be a good girl f’me. Cum f’me.” Jude said sternly instructing you and you wasted no time at all. Your orgasm was never ending. He persistently kept his fingers at work inside of you, slowing slightly but drawing your high out.  “Good girl. So fucking good f’me.” Jude cooed as you attempted to hold onto his muscular arm to prevent him from moving any more. He gave way and removed his fingers as he kissed your lips with his before he drew away and forcefully pushed his thumb in between your lips. You willingly opened them for him and looked at him doe eyed and desperate for more. He kept your lips agape as he slowly spit into your mouth before hungrily kissing you again. Jude wrapped your legs around his waist. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your soft core. You arched your back again desperate, inviting him to take what felt rightfully his. With one swift motion, he entered you, filling you with a delicious fullness. The sensations were overwhelming as Jude began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. His eyes never leaving yours, and you could see the raw desire reflected in their depths. He sets a relentless pace, his body pounding into yours, each stroke eliciting moans of pleasure from both of you.

"Oh fuck, Jude," you cried out, your voice hoarse with passion. "Yes, right there!" The pupils in his dark eyes dilated when he felt his cock pulse inside you. Every movement was slow, deep, and intentional. His lips curled into a smug smile hearing that he was doing a good job. You dragged your ankle down his back muscles. He was finding out quickly exactly how to touch you, how to drive you wild. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, ensuring every thrust hits your sweet spot. The sounds of your pleasure fill the outdoor air—moans, gasps, and the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin. As the tension builds, you can feel another orgasm approaching, a tidal wave of sensation ready to crash over you. Jude could sense your impending release and quickened his pace, his own breath becoming ragged.

"Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice thick with lust. You moaned pulling him down to you more by the back of his neck dragging your nails harshly down his muscular back. He rested his forehead against yours sweetly as he continued to rail into you.  “Cum one more time f’me baby. Feels so good. Doing so well f’me.” He whispered between the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy. His thrusts sped up, rolling his hips into you as he chased his own orgasm. Your body tightened around him, and you cried out his name as the waves of pleasure washed over you once more. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rode out the pulsating orgasm, your body trembling with its intensity. He thrusted harder, faster, his eyes rolling back as he surrendered to the bliss. He sunk his teeth into his perfect lower lip. You silently begged him to cum. His head tilted back. With a final powerful stroke, he emptied himself deep within you. Ropes of his cum filled the velvety inside of your pussy. He pumped you full gradually and slowly stilling. Your pussy continued to flutter as you panted beneath him. Your chest rising and falling. He softly stroked your hair and gently kissed you. “Did so good f’me.” He breathed, his voice filled with admiration. You smiled breathlessly as he kissed you again in a way that Jude prayed you could feel just how much he adored you with each one. In the aftermath of your passion by the pool, Jude collapsed onto the small space on the lounger, moving you to be on top of him now, both of you sweaty and satiated, keeping your bodies intertwined. You smiled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

As you stood, fingers grazing over the delicate fabric on the rack inside the department store, you let out a heavy sigh. The weight in your chest felt unbearable, and the artificial high of retail therapy wasn’t doing what it was supposed to. You thought the expensive price tags and shiny new outfits would mask the ache, but instead, it all felt hollow.Winnie came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist in a gentle hug. She giggled softly, trying to lift your spirits. 

"At least you'll have an amazing top to wear when you're ready to get back out there," she teased lightly. But the words, meant to comfort, only made you feel worse. Your eyes welled with tears, and you sniffled, turning away from the clothes.

"I don’t want to get back out there, Win," you whispered, voice trembling. "I don’t want to show off for anyone else. I don’t want any other eyes on me… it’s not the same." You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushing it away before it could fall. Winnie turned you gently, her face softening in concern.

“Hey, it’s okay to feel that. You’re hurting, and no amount of shopping is gonna fix that.” You sighed, blinking back more tears, your throat tight. 

"I just… I only want to look good for him. Jude. He’s the only one who made me feel alive, you know? I used to get dressed up and know he’d look at me like I was the only person in the room. Now… I don’t feel like that anymore. I feel dull, like nothing will ever be the same without him."  Your hand fell from the hanger, the top you were about to buy suddenly meaningless. Shopping couldn’t fill the void Jude left behind, no matter how many racks you combed through. Winnie squeezed you tighter, trying to ground you as your words hung heavy between you. She rested her chin on your shoulder, feeling your pain as if it were her own.

 “I know, babe,” she whispered, trying to soothe you. “It’s okay to feel this way, you know. You don’t have to be ready to move on. It’s okay if all you want is him.” You shook your head, blinking back more tears as you stared blankly at the clothes in front of you, the vibrant fabrics and trendy designs suddenly feeling meaningless.

 “I feel so stupid,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I should be mad, right? I should be out there, showing him what he’s missing, living my best life. But I can’t. I just… I can’t.” Winnie turned you around in her arms, forcing you to look at her.

“You’re definitely not stupid. You’re in love. That’s not something you just get over in a snap. And you’re allowed to feel how you feel, even if it’s messy or complicated.” You sniffled, biting your lip as your eyes darted to the ground.

“But it’s more than that, Win. I wish I wanted to go out, find someone else, let some random guy sweep me off my feet, make Jude jealous. Hell, I wish I wanted to go fuck someone else but I don’t. I really don’t. The thought of someone else… It makes me sick. The idea of anyone touching me the way Jude did… it’s not even a comparison.”  Your voice cracked as the weight of your feelings pressed harder on your chest. “I tried that. I just want him,” you admitted, your heart breaking with every word. “I want to be in his bed, wearing his t-shirts, listening to him laugh at something stupid I said. I don’t want to go out and meet anyone new. I don’t want to pretend like I’m okay. I just want… him.”  Winnie sighed, her face soft with sympathy as she watched the tears finally fall. 

“I get it. I do. And I wish I could say something to make it all better, but I can’t. Only time will help… or maybe Jude will come to his senses and fix this… would you want him to?” She paused, her eyes searching yours, as if she was trying to find some glimmer of hope within you. You pouted at her, giving her the obvious answer that of course you did.  “Well, until then, you’ve got me. And we’ll get through this together, okay?” You nodded weakly, but the ache in your chest didn’t lessen. You pulled away from Winnie slightly, looking around the store, your heart heavy. 

“I just don’t get it, you know? I used to love coming to Bergdorfs. I used to get so excited to find something new, to go out and show it off. But now… now it feels like none of it matters.” You ran your fingers over a top you had been eyeing earlier, the fabric soft beneath your fingertips, but it didn’t bring you the same joy it once would have. “I don’t even want this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Winnie. “I know I sound dramatic but none of it means anything without him. What’s the point of getting dressed up or going out if he’s not there to see it? If he’s not the one taking it off at the end of the night?” Winnie’s arms wrapped around you again, tighter this time, as if she could shield you from the pain with her embrace. 

“You don’t have to do it for anyone else,” she murmured. “If you don’t want to go out, don’t. If you don’t want to move on right now, don’t force it. It’s okay to miss him, and it’s okay to still want him. But you have to take care of yourself, too. Even if it’s hard.” You sighed heavily, the exhaustion of everything catching up with you.

“I’m trying,” you said softly. “But it’s like… suddenly, New York isn’t home anymore. Nothing feels like home without him. The city feels empty, cold. And I’ve never felt so far away from him… from myself.”  Your voice cracked again, and Winnie’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re not far from yourself,” she said gently. “You’re just hurting. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to grieve this, to feel lost. But you’ll find your way back. Whether that’s with Jude or without him, I know you will.” Her words brought a small comfort, but the ache in your chest remained.

“It just doesn’t feel like home without him,” you repeated, more to yourself. “He is my home, and now I don’t even know where I am anymore.” Winnie pulled you in tighter, her heart breaking for you.

 “I know, babe. But we’ll figure it out. Whether that means getting back to him or finding your own way again. I’m here, and we’ll figure it out.” For a moment, you just stood there, holding onto her, the weight of your heartbreak pressing down on you. You wanted to believe her, that you’d find your way back to yourself, but right now, all you could think about was how much you missed Jude. How much you still loved him, even after everything. You sighed again, pulling away from Winnie and running a hand through your hair.

 “I don’t want to meet anyone else, Win. I don’t want to move on. I just want him.” Winnie nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. 

“I know. And that’s okay. You don’t have to move on. But maybe… maybe you should tell him that.” She sympathetically smiled at you. 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the black sheer lace dress you had bought on a whim clinging to your body like a whisper. You could see your underwear beneath the fabric, and you almost laughed at how absurd this all felt. Yet, you couldn’t help but indulge in the fantasy for a moment, wondering what it would be like if you did go to Aurelian’s party. The new clothes from your shopping spree with Winnie sat scattered around you in your wardrobe, a reminder of how hard you were trying to distract yourself. An hour and half a bottle of Dom Pérignon later, you were sitting on the floor of your wardrobe, staring at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen. The bubbly had loosened something in you, making you braver—or more reckless, depending on how you looked at it. Without thinking too much about it, you picked up your phone and shot off a flirty text to Aurelian, switching to French. 

‘Qu'est-ce que je suis censée porter à ta fête si je viens? Quoi qu'il en soit, je me sens déjà un peu sous-dressée…’ [What am I supposed to wear to your party if I come? Though, I already feel a little underdressed]

You pressed send before you could stop yourself. Your heart raced as you waited for a reply, feeling a strange mix of excitement and guilt swirl in your chest. When Aurelian’s response finally came through, you bit your lip as you read it, his words making your cheeks warm. 

‘Je ne t'ai jamais vue sans être magnifique. Je suis presque sûr que ce n'est pas les vêtements qui comptent…’ [I’ve never seen you look anything but magnificent. I’m pretty sure it’s not the clothes that matter.]

His implication was clear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You found yourself smiling at his smooth compliment, your heart beating a little faster. You could feel the tension in the air between you, even through a phone screen, and for a moment, you wondered if you should let yourself lean into it.  Aurelian's next message popped up with an innocently enough question. 

 ‘Alors, à quoi pensais-tu?’ [So, what were you thinking?]

You stared at the text, the decision looming large before you. You could send him a photo right now—show him the drunken, seductive mess you were in this dress, the dress you probably wouldn’t have worn for anyone but Jude in the past. A part of you wanted to flirt, to let Aurelian see you this way, to forget for just a moment how much you missed Jude. 

But as you sat there, the phone still in your hand, you sighed. You couldn't shake the ache inside you, the ache that had nothing to do with Aurelian. It was Jude who filled your thoughts, Jude who made your heart race when you sent those types of flirty, suggestive photos. Jude who you were still in love with, even if it hurt like hell.You let your phone drop beside you, not replying to Aurelian’s message. The thought of sending that picture, or even entertaining the idea of someone else, just didn’t feel right. It didn’t fill the void you were hoping it would. It only reminded you of what you were missing—what you still wanted, even though you had tried to convince yourself otherwise. With a heavy sigh, you rested your head against the a cabinet drawer, the sheer dress now feeling more like a reminder of the distance between where you were and where you wanted to be. You weren’t ready to move on. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

You were sitting on your couch, half-watching the cityscape outside your window mindlessly when your phone rang. It was your mum. You answered with a smile, but the moment she mentioned your dad had watched the Madrid match, your stomach twisted in knots. 

"He was so excited, you know? Your dad, watching the game. And then... well, I’ve been feeling like I’m keeping something from him," she said softly but you could almost hear her smile through the phone. "I mean, about you and Jude." You froze, your throat tightening. 

"Mum, we’re not... we’re not seeing each other anymore." You sheepishly admitted hating each word as it came out of your mouth.  

"What do you mean? I thought—" There was a pause on the other end of the line, the confusion hanging in the air like a weight. 

"It’s over," you said quickly, the words feeling foreign, like they didn’t belong to you. "I ended it." With every follow-up question she asked, you felt your resolve crumbling, the walls you had built up to protect yourself beginning to crack. And then, as you tried to explain, your voice broke, a sob you hadn’t expected rising in your chest. Tears slipped from your eyes, and it was like you couldn’t stop them once they started. You never cried, not like this, not with your mum. The moment she heard the hitch in your voice, her tone shifted. She dropped into the familiar comfort of French, her voice soft and maternal. 

"Ma chérie, oh non, mon bébé, ne pleure pas. C’est bon, je suis là. Papa et moi, nous sommes là pour toi. Viens nous voir, viens à Paris.” [My darling, oh no, my baby, don’t cry. It’s okay, I’m here. Dad and I, we're here for you. Come see us, come to Paris.] Her words wrapped around you like a blanket, but instead of comforting you, they made the ache worse. You cried harder, the sobs tearing out of you, unexpected and overwhelming. There was something about her offer, the thought of going back to Paris with a broken heart, that made the hurt feel even sharper. Paris had always been your sanctuary, your favorite place on earth. You didn’t want to taint it with the sadness that now clung to you like a second skin. The idea of walking those familiar streets, eating at your favorite cafés, all while carrying the weight of your broken heart—it was unbearable.

"I... I don’t think I can, Mum," you choked out between sobs. "I don’t want to go to Paris like this. I really don’t want to ruin it." You muttered.

"Rien ne peut ruiner Paris pour toi, ma chérie.” [Nothing can ruin Paris for you, my darling.] She soothed, her voice soft and steady. "Paris misses you almost as much as we do." But you shook your head, even though she couldn’t see it.

"I feel so lost. I know I haven’t known him for that long but I don’t even know who I am without him anymore. And if I go to Paris like this, I’m scared it’ll never be the same again.” 

“Tu es forte, mon amour. Plus forte que tu ne le penses. Et peu importe ce que tu ressens maintenant, tu retrouveras ton chemin. Come to Paris. We’ll help you heal.” [You are strong, my love. Stronger than you think. And no matter how you feel now, you will find your way back. Come to Paris. We’ll help you heal.] Her words were like balm on a wound, but it didn’t stop the fear from gnawing at you. You hadn’t realized how deep this heartbreak had cut, how much it had seeped into every part of your life. Even the thought of Paris, a place you’d always associated with joy and love, felt tainted now. 

"I just... I don’t know how to do this, Mum. I don’t know how to move on." You wrapped your arms around yourself, the tears slowing but your chest still heavy. Telling your mum you were hurting made you feel like a little girl. 

"Tu n’as pas à savoir maintenant. C’est pour ça qu’on est là. Come to Paris, ma chérie. Papa et moi, on s’occupera de toi." [You don’t have to know right now. That’s why we’re here. Come to Paris, my darling. Dad and I will take care of you.] You cried quietly as she continued to console you, her words soft and loving, trying to bring you comfort in a moment where comfort felt impossible. You knew she was right, that eventually, you’d have to find your way back to yourself. But right now, in the middle of the heartache, it felt like you were drifting, lost and untethered.

After what felt like your and Jude’s denouement you were struggling with the overwhelming weight of your emotions crush your resolve. You couldn’t do this alone—not anymore. The only person you could think or want to call was Whitney. Whitney, who had always been there for you, who understood the unique challenges of loving an English footballer, a man with a similar life as Jude. With trembling hands, you dialed her number.

“Helllooo” Whitney sang. “What’s up?” When Whitney picked up, her voice was warm and familiar, instantly calming some of your anxiety. But you couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped you. 

“Whit… can I come stay with you? Please? Whit…” You whimpered as you began to bawl.

“Of course, you can. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” The concern in Whitney’s voice was immediate. You tried to gather herself, but the tears kept coming. 

“I just… I can’t be here. I need to get away. I need to be somewhere safe. I can’t be alone like this.” You wept as your whole body shook of fear and heartbreak.

“Don’t worry about anything,” Whitney assured you. “Just get on the next flight over here. Come be with me. Trent and I are here for you always.” Whitney sympathetically told you. 

By the time you arrived at Trent and Whitney’s house, you were exhausted—emotionally, physically, completely drained. You stood at the doorstep, your heart heavy as you padded in the lock code Whitney gave you. As you opened the door, the alarm bell rang through their massive home that was filled to the brim with love and warmth that made you want to cry upon entry. The other thing that made you want to cry was their sweet little two year old girl, Teddy running towards you. Her bare feet pitter pattering on the flooring.

“Y/N!” Teddy exclaimed, her tiny face lighting up with pure joy. “Miss! Missed!” She giggled as the dimples in her cheeks sank.  You felt your heart swell at the sight of this little girl you loved so much. You dropped to your knees and scooped Teddy up into a tight hug, letting the warmth of the embrace soothe you for a moment. But then, the tears came again, unbidden and unstoppable. Trent appeared at the door next, concern etched on his face. He watched as you clung to his daughter, tears streaming down your cheeks. Without a word, he walked over and gently lifted Teddy from your arms. He kissed your temple softly, offering silent comfort.

“It’s okay,” Trent murmured, holding Teddy close as she babbled nonsense about missing you happily in his arms. “Whatever’s going on. You’re gonna be alright.” He cooed. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Whitney said softly, leading you into the cozy living room after she appeared at your side, her arm wrapping around your shoulders. You settled on the couch, and Whitney handed you a glass of wine. “Talk to me,” Whitney urged gently. “Tell me what’s going on.” You took a shaky breath, staring into the wine glass as if it held all the answers. You knew you needed to talk, to let it all out—but the words felt stuck in your throat. Whitney waited patiently, her presence a steady, calming force. 

“I messed everything up, Whit. I tried to protect myself, and I ended up pushing him away. I don’t know what to do.” You whimpered. Finally, you looked up, your voice trembling. Whitney reached out, placing a comforting hand on your knee. 

“I hardly think you messed everything up. He cares so much about you. I’m here to listen so let’s start from the beginning,” she said softly. “I’m here for you, Y/N. Whatever it is, whatever is best for you, we’ll figure it out together.” As the night went on, you poured out your heart, the tears falling freely as you recounted everything that had happened with Jude. All the things Whitney already knew, all the things Whitney didn’t. All of it, dirty and otherwise. She listened, offering support and understanding in a way only she could. The wine helped to dull the edges of your pain, but it was the kindness and warmth of Whitney and her little family that truly began to soothe the deep ache inside you. After a long, emotional conversation, Whitney noticed your exhaustion weighing heavily on you. But she also knew that you needed more than just one person to lean on right now. With a reassuring smile, Whitney pulled out her phone.

“I think it’s time to bring in another opinion. It’s only right,” Whitney said, giving you a wink as she tapped on her screen. Moments later, the familiar face of Winnie appeared on the screen. Winnie’s bright smile greeting you with her usual energy. 

“Wow, thanks for the invite! I didn’t know you were going over Y/N.” Winnie teased seeing you and Lauren on the same couch but then she paused, taken aback by the expressions on your faces. “What’s going on? Look like you’ve had a good cry.” She asked a bit cautiously.  You managed a small smile as Whitney explained the progression of your situation. Winnie listened intently, her face softening with empathy as the story unfolded. She was rambunctious and fun, but she also had a deep well of understanding that made her the perfect person to talk to when things got heavy. After that night at the club, Winnie had been there for you. Both of these girls always were.

“So let me just recap here.,” Winnie said, leaning closer to the camera as if she could step through the screen to be with you. “You and Jude are head over heels for each other, but you’re both too scared to admit it, so you’re pushing each other away, sleeping with other people and then just not talking about it?” Winnie summarized the situation a bit too bluntly. 

“Win… they’re in love with each other.”  Whitney rebuffed. “Sure, Jude’s been fucking stupid but Y/N now has created distance… rightfully so by the way.” Whitney turned to you, squeezing your leg. “Problem is, now, there’s a chasm they don’t know what to do with. Y/N is trying to weigh what to do.” Whitney sadly smiled. 

“What’s gonna hurt less.” Winnie responded. “But…” Winnie piped up again. “I mean… a little pain isn’t the worst thing in the world. It’s horrible but on the other side of it... I think maybe an in person conversation, if you can manage it might be good.”

“I agree. And then if the direction turns you get to decide. You get to call it. You clearly love each other and saying it over the phone just isn’t right. Not when it’s real love.” Whitney ever the romantic cooed. You blushed at the ideas, nodding hesitantly, trying to keep your composure. 

“I really love him… I think.” You pouted at them. Feeling not much better about Jude specifically but much better talking with them. “I’m such a fucking sap now. Whitney, you did this to me.” You whined falling into her lap dramatically. Both girls giggled as you dragged yourself to sit back up.  

“Love is amazing!” Whitney sang kissing your forehead. She had no quam introducing you and Jude. She thought love was great. You usually watched Whitney’s relationship from a distance, thinking it was crazy she was down so bad for a man but now you understood her more than ever. And at the moment you envied her happy relationship more than ever. 

“The make up sex will be amazing!!” Winnie added, mocking Whitney’s tone. Whitney chuckled, shaking her head. Before you could respond, Teddy came bounding into the room, her little feet pattering against the floor.

 “Mama!” she called out, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Whitney. She climbed up onto the couch clumsily, nestling herself into Whitney’s lap, and wrapped her tiny arms around her mother’s neck. Whitney kissed Teddy’s cheek, holding her close as she continued the conversation.

“It’s not easy, Y/N. But pushing him away because you’re scared will only hurt you both more.” You and her both exchanged sad smiles. Teddy let go on Whitney and clumsily flopped onto your lap giving your thigh a hug smushing her face against your leg. She could sense your sadness and even though she probably couldn’t understand why, her silly hug did more than she knew. Just after, Trent appeared in the doorway, looking slightly sheepish. “Sorry, ladies,” he said, running a hand over his hair. “She slipped away from me. She’s quick y’know.” He laughed. You smiled at the sight of Trent, feeling a strange sense of comfort in the normalcy of the scene. 

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice softer now. “I could use all the cuddles I can get.” You cooed. Trent chuckled, giving a quick hello to Winnie and then Teddy a playful nudge before scooping her up. Whitney gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Trent plopped onto another seat in the room with Teddy, the two of them falling into their own little conversation. 

“You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” she said softly. “But you should be honest with yourself about how you feel, you should ask him point blank how he feels, you deserve someone who will love you fearlessly. Not all this bullshit he’s been doing. At the end of it all, do what is right for your heart, your peace. Just please take care of this girl because she means a lot to me.” Whitney smiled as she pinched at your waist.  Winnie nodded on the screen in agreement, her expression serious and stoic. 

“Exactly. We’re here for you, Y/N. Whatever you decide, you’re not alone in this but also don’t pretend cheap navy polyester blend sheets are ever going to make you feel the way white Italian made Frette sateen do.” She meant it metaphorically but maybe seriously as well about bedroom antics. Whitney shrugged partly agreeing about the bed linen comment. You were a group of three, well four including Teddy, very spoiled girls. You looked at the two sisters and then at Teddy, who was now contentedly playing with the hem of Trent’s top. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so lost. After the conversation with Winnie wrapped up, Whitney decided it was time to shift the mood to something lighter. 

“You know what we need? A Chinese,” she declared, already pulling up the menu on her phone. 

“Whit, baby, you know I can’t have that—I’m in season.” Trent, now lounging comfortably in the corner of the couch with Teddy perched on his lap, raised an eyebrow in protest.

“You’ll survive. Y/N likes the place we order from here so that’s what we’re getting.” Whitney shot him a playful but firm look. Trent sighed, defeated, while Teddy giggled at her father’s expense. 

“Dada no hungry?” Teddy chirped asking Trent, grabbing at his shirt. “Like ‘neese.” She giggled, unable to properly pronounce ‘chinese’ just yet.

“Nah, baby bear. I’m very hungry!” Trent corrected her as he dramatically squeezed Teddy tight to him, locking her in place as he began to nom on her chubby cheek teasingly as she squealed and giggled. You sighed hearing Trent call Teddy his little nickname, a two year olds giggle booming in the room, your best friend watching her family. You felt so lonely in a moment when you couldn’t have been less alone. Soon enough, the smell of takeout filled the house. You gathered around their dining table. Trent’s eyes lingered longingly on the orange chicken, but he dutifully stuck to his more athlete-friendly meal, occasionally sneaking glances at everyone else’s plates.

“Mama, no tanks.” Teddy, still on Trent’s lap, scrunched her nose at the sight of broccoli on her plate. It was simply genetics but there was something funny about watching both Trent, over orange chicken, and Teddy, over broccoli, give Whitney their best identical puppy dog eyes pleading for her approval. 

“Ted, baby,  gotta eat those please. Just a few bites for me, cute girl.” Whitney replied, not missing a beat. “You… “ her eyes flashed to Trent. “Learn some self control. Eat your grilled chicken and set an example for your daughter.”  She giggled. “Eat your broccoli.” She smirked, moving a container more towards them. With a dramatic sigh, both Teddy and Trent picked up a piece of broccoli and nibbled at it. As you ate, the conversation flowed naturally, drifting back to the earlier topic. Trent, who had been mostly quiet regarding the Jude situation, finally chimed in.

“Look, Y/N, I get it. Jude’s been a…” He paused momentarily to cover Teddy’s ears. “He’s been a fucking idiot because he’s scared, just like you are. But being scared doesn’t mean you should just give up on the whole relationship.” He cooed. Your fork paused halfway to your mouth, and you looked at Trent, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. 

“T, Jude and I aren’t even in a relationship. We’re just… I don’t even know what we are. And at the moment really nothing at all.”  You sighed, upset that it wasn’t like you were repairing something with a boyfriend. Jude was nothing to you because you never got to labels and that was the problem. Trent leaned forward slightly, his expression serious but kind. 

“You say that and I know that Jude should’ve fixed exactly that but you’re more than just nothing, that’s for sure. But if you just push it all away and ignore what you want, you’re never going to know what it could be.” He softly smiled at you. Whitney nodded in agreement, giving you a similar gentle smile. 

“I don’t want to pile on because I know it’s hard but T’s right, you know. You can’t let fear control this. Jude should be the one to fix it but if it’s something you want it’s worth maybe at least asking one more time.” Whitney pouted a bit being a hopeless romantic. You took a deep breath, letting their words sink in. You knew they were right, but that didn’t make it any easier. Still, there was something comforting about the way you all sat around the table, talking through the mess of emotions that had been haunting you for weeks. When you finished your meal, you felt a little lighter, as if the weight of your fears had been shared among you all. Teddy, after finally eating her vegetables, grinned triumphantly as Whitney handed her a small bowl of ice cream.

“See? Not so bad. You and Daddy are so picky sometimes ” Whitney teased, running her hand over Trent’s head whilst pressing a kiss to Teddy’s hair. You smiled, feeling a warmth you hadn’t felt in a while. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to navigate this confusing thing with Jude. And if you stumbled along the way, at least you knew you had people who would catch you.  As the evening wound down, Whitney guided you to the guest room, a comforting hand on your back. You carried Teddy, who insisted on following you two, her tiny arms wrapped around your neck. When you reached the room, you gently placed Teddy down before flopping onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. The weight of the day, the emotions, and the uncertainty all seemed to catch up with you at once. But the despair was short-lived as Teddy, ever the little bundle of joy, clambered up onto the bed beside you, mimicking your flop with a giggle. The sound was infectious, and despite yourself, you found a smile breaking through. You leaned over and planted a few playful kisses on Teddy’s cheeks, each one drawing more giggles from the little girl. It was moments like these that made everything feel a bit more manageable. Whitney sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a sympathetic smile. She knew you were still hurting, still conflicted, but she also knew that you needed to confront those feelings head-on. 

“You should talk to Jude, Y/N,” Whitney said softly, her tone gentle but insistent. Hearing Jude’s name, Teddy’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Mama, miss Judey!” she exclaimed, her voice bright and innocent, free of the complications that you were grappling with. Your heart clenched a little at Teddy’s words. You hugged Teddy close, pressing another kiss to her cheek. 

“Me too, Ted. Me too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Whitney watched you, her heart aching for her friend but also hopeful that this might be the push you needed.

“He misses you too, Y/N. Don’t let this slip away without at least trying to fight for it.” You nodded slowly, your mind racing with all the things you wanted to say to Jude, all the things you were too afraid to admit even to yourself. But as you lay there with Teddy cuddled up beside you, you knew that Whitney was right. It was time to stop running, time to face whatever this thing with Jude was—no matter how terrifying it might be. You laid in bed, the darkness of the room doing little to quiet your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, thoughts of Jude filled your head—his smile, his laugh, the way he made you feel both terrified and alive all at once. You watched the hours tick by, each passing minute only intensifying the ache in your chest. You missed him, more than you wanted to admit. 

You accompanied Whitney to one of Trent’s Liverpool matches. After the game, you two along with Trent and his brother, Marcel went out for dinner. You didn’t feel happy per se but you felt relaxed and just comforted by their normalcy and the layer of wine rushing through your system definitely helped lighten your mood. As Whitney excused herself to the bathroom and a fan engaged Trent in conversation, you felt a sudden charge of freedom wash over you. It was like a door had opened, offering a brief moment to do something reckless. Marcel's arm had found its way around your shoulders, and what started as an innocent gesture quickly shifted into something more intense, at least in your mind. In Marcel’s mind it was more in a platonic friend way steadying your drunk movements. You leaned in closer, feeling the alcohol take hold of your thoughts, pushing boundaries you might not have dared cross otherwise. Your thumb brushed over Marcel's lips, slow and deliberate, tracing the shape of them with a glint in your eye. You were testing the waters, watching for his reaction, letting the thrill of mischief spark through you. Marcel smirked despite himself, recognizing the shift in energy, the subtle tension that had bloomed between you two. His heart raced momentarily, tempted by the familiarity of this dynamic. You had hooked up before, and that memory lingered, pulling at the edges of his resolve.

"You have really nice lips," you murmured, eyes flicking down to them and then back up to his face, the challenge implicit in your voice. Marcel chuckled, his hand gently closing around yours as he pulled it away from his lips.

"Thank you sweetheart," he said, with a soft laugh.His tone light but cautious. "They get the job done." He cooed. You giggled, flashing your eyes down to his lips again, emboldened by his response. The banter felt dangerous, electric. There was a fire in your belly that only seemed to grow as you watched his smirk soften into something more serious. The thrill of pushing the line, seeing how far you could take it, was exhilarating. You felt like you were barreling toward something you couldn't quite control, but instead of stopping, you let yourself teeter closer to the edge. The energy between you two was shifting fast, spiraling into something much more charged. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing the fall would hurt but craving the rush of it anyway. You felt alive in a way you hadn't since things with Jude fell apart, and it felt dangerous, intoxicating.

“I know.” You cooed with a a smug smile. For a split second, you let yourself imagine it—the temptation, the thrill of crossing that line again with Marcel. You were flirting with danger, and a part of you loved the recklessness of it. But Marcel wasn't moving. He hadn't leaned in. He hadn't taken the bait. You could see it in his eyes, the internal battle he was fighting, the temptation wrestling with his conscience. The way his gaze flicked away from yours, the way he gently squeezed your hand as if to ground himself, it all told you he wasn't going to let this go any further. Not tonight. For a moment, you felt the excitement drain, leaving behind a hollow ache. You weren't really after Marcel. You were after the thrill, the distraction from the gnawing emptiness that had been eating away at you since Jude. But as you sat there, staring at Marcel's careful, measured response, you realized this wasn't what you wanted. Not really.

“Lucky you,” he teased, playing along with the joke you started, but there was an undertone of seriousness as his gaze lingered on you a little too long. Marcel’s soft laugh echoed in your ears, his casual response almost distracting you from the sting of rejection you felt coming. You giggled, but the sound was empty, your heart heavy with the weight of what you knew was coming. You sighed, the giggle fading, and pouted without meaning to, feeling childish but unable to stop yourself. The alcohol had lowered your guard, and now, there was nowhere to hide from the vulnerability that was surfacing. Marcel noticed the shift in you, and instead of pulling away, he turned to face you fully. Gently, he lifted your face from where it had been resting against his shoulder, cupping your cheeks with his hands. His touch was soft, tender even, as he looked directly into your eyes. “Listen, it’s not that I wouldn’t,” he began, his voice low but steady. “Or that I’m not interested. You’re gorgeous, and trust me… I hate that I’m saying no. That the right thing is no.” He paused, watching the way your eyes searched his, needing more from him, something to fill the emptiness you’d been carrying. “But you don’t actually want this.” You felt the weight of his words settle over you, sinking in as tears began to form on your lash line. You blinked, trying to hold them back, but it was no use. He was right, of course. Deep down, you knew you didn’t want this. Not really. Marcel wasn’t the person who filled the aching void in your chest. You were after the thrill, the distraction from the gnawing emptiness that had been eating away at you since Jude. But as you sat there, staring at Marcel's careful, measured response, you realized this wasn't what you wanted. Not really. Still, the rejection hurt. Your cheek leaned further into his hand, seeking comfort in his touch. You nodded, unable to form the words to admit the truth aloud, and Marcel’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. His lips pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you took a deep, shaky breath, inhaling the warmth of his embrace. You pulled away from the hug, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. You managed a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes as you glanced up at him. You blinked, the haze clearing just enough for reality to settle back in. You felt a pang of regret. Not for what almost happened, but for the emptiness that made you chase after it in the first place.

“Would you, though? If things were different?” The question slipped out, your drunken state loosening your tongue. It wasn’t a fair question to ask, but you needed to know, needed some kind of validation that you still had ‘it.’ Marcel chuckled softly at first, but then his face grew serious. His eyes darkened, his gaze holding yours as he leaned in closer, his hand sliding down to your waist, his thumb brushing over the bare skin of your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. He whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Y/N… You know the answer.” He smirked. “We’ve lived that answer so trust me…you have no idea,” he said, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. “If things were different, you wouldn’t still be sitting at this table.” The confession sent a rush through you, a sense of relief flooding your system, like a validation you hadn’t realized you needed. It was a reminder that you still had ‘it,’ that you were still desirable. But as the relief settled in, so did something else—a deeper realization. You didn’t want ‘it’ with Marcel. You didn’t want to be here, chasing after validation from someone who wasn’t the person you truly wanted. You wanted Jude. You wanted the warmth of his arms around you, the sound of his voice telling you that you were the only one for him. No matter how good it felt to hear Marcel’s words, they weren’t enough to fill the void. With a sigh, you pulled away from Marcel, giving him a small, grateful smile. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, unsure if you were thanking him for the compliment or for stopping you from making a mistake. Marcel just nodded, his expression soft, understanding. 

“You’ll be okay,” he said quietly. “You’re just... a little lost right now.” And he was right. You were lost, but maybe, just maybe, you were starting to find your way back. As Whitney returned and Trent's conversation ended, the moment dissolved into the background, just another part of the night. But the lingering feeling stayed with you, a reminder of how far away you still felt from the person you used to be-and the person you wanted to be again.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 11 - Go xx

[lvnleah]

015. | Newborn Days

bit of an emotional one, strap in :)

word count: 2k

find the series masterlist here!

April 27th 2024 | 4 weeks old.

You always knew that having a newborn baby wouldn’t be easy, but you never expected the way your postpartum body would affect you.

The sleepless nights and endless feedings were exhausting, sure, but nothing compared to the wave of emotions that surged every time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It wasn’t just that your body was different; it was the way it felt foreign like it belonged to someone else entirely.

You would stand there, staring at your reflection, and struggle to reconcile the image before you with the person you used to be. The woman who had been confident in her skin was nowhere to be found.

In her place was a body marked by the life it had created, and while you were proud of that, it didn’t make it any easier to accept. The stretch marks, the soft and squidgy belly, the curves that hadn’t been there before—each was a reminder of the ways you had changed, and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by it all. You found yourself hiding, even from Leah, covering up at every opportunity and avoiding her touch as if it would burn you.

Leah noticed, of course. How could she not? But she had been patient, giving you space, waiting for you to come to her. She had always been that way, never one to push too hard. But as the weeks went on, you could feel the strain between you growing, a tension that neither of you knew how to address.

Today was no different. You had spent the morning in a fog, going through the motions of caring for Finley while trying to push aside the gnawing anxiety that clung to you like a shadow. Leah had left early for training, it was her first week back. You knew she was struggling too, trying to balance her demanding career with the new realities of motherhood, and the last thing you wanted was to add to her burden.

As the day wore on, the weight of your emotions became harder to ignore. By the time Leah returned home, you were exhausted—physically, emotionally, in every way possible. Finley had finally drifted off to sleep, and you were grateful for the quietness.

Leah found you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor. She had showered and changed after training at the training centre, her hair still damp. She looked as beautiful as ever, her athletic frame only made you feel worse as you mourned the one you used to have. You couldn’t help but compare your postpartum body to hers, and the gap between what you saw in yourself and what you saw in her felt like it was suffocating you.

“Hey pretty girl,” Leah said softly, walking over to you and crouching down in front. “You okay?”

You nodded automatically, “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Leah didn’t look convinced. She sat down beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence thick with the weight of everything left unsaid. Finally, Leah reached out, her hand brushing lightly against yours.

“Talk to me,” she said gently. “Please, pretty girl.”

It was the kindness in her voice that undid you. The tears came suddenly, hot and fast, and you couldn’t hold them back.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, burying your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry, Leah.”

Leah was quick to pull you into her arms, holding you close as you sobbed against her shoulder. “Hey, hey, don’t apologise,” she murmured, her voice steady and soothing. “You don’t have to apologise for anything. Just tell me what’s going on.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “It’s my body,” you finally admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I hate it, Leah. I don’t recognize myself anymore. I feel… I feel disgusting, and I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Leah pulled back just enough to look at you, her brow furrowed in concern. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” she asked softly, her hand coming up to wipe away your tears. “Why you won’t let me touch you?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you whispered. “I didn’t want you to be disgusted by me.”

Leah’s expression softened, and she cupped your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I could never be disgusted by you,” she said firmly. “I love you—every part of you. Your body is incredible. It gave us Finley, and I’m in awe of it, of you. You’re still the woman I fell in love with, and nothing could ever change that.”

You wanted to believe her, but the insecurities ran deep, and it was hard to let go of the negative thoughts that had taken root in your mind. “But it’s different,” you insisted, your voice breaking. “I’m different.”

Leah nodded, acknowledging your feelings without dismissing them. “I know it’s different,” she said gently. “And I know it’s hard. But different doesn’t mean worse. You’re still you, and I still want you, love. I want all of you—your body, your heart, your mind. Every part of you.”

“I’m scared,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to feel okay in my own skin anymore.”

Leah’s grip on you tightened, “You don’t have to figure it out alone,” she promised. “We’ll work through this together, one day at a time. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you,” you whispered, the words carrying a weight of gratitude and hope.

“I love you too,” Leah replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “More than anything. Wanna cuddle in bed for a bit?”

You nodded your head, “That would be nice.”

Leah gave you a soft smile as she gently helped you settle onto the bed, pulling the covers over the two of you. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close against her chest. The warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her breathing gradually began to soothe your frayed nerves. The scent of her, familiar and comforting, made you feel safe, as though for a moment, the worries that had consumed you were held at bay.

For a while, you both lay there in silence, Leah’s fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back. You could feel the tension in your muscles slowly begin to ease away, your breaths syncing with hers as you allowed yourself to relax in her embrace.

Leah's voice was a quiet murmur in your ear as she began to speak, “You’re not alone in this, y’know. I’m here, always.”

You cuddled closer to her. "Thank you," you whispered, “I love you so much.”

Leah kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering as she held you tighter. "I mean it, love. I’m so proud of you, and I love every part of you, just as you are. We’ll figure this out together. I love you more.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, a calmness you hadn’t felt in weeks began to settle within you. Leah's words reminded you that you were loved, that you were not defined by the changes in your body, and that you had someone by your side who cherished you for who you were.

The peace was short-lived but precious, as the baby monitor crackled, Finley’s soft cries pulling you both back into reality. Leah sighed softly, giving you a reassuring squeeze before reluctantly pulling away.

“Looks like our little man is awake,” she said with a smile.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go get him,” you offered, but Leah shook her head.

“No, you stay here,” she said gently. “I’ll get him. You need a break.”

You smiled at her gratefully, watching as she got out of bed and padded over to the door. As Leah left the room to tend to Finley, you lay back against the pillows, a small smile playing on your lips. The conversation with Leah had lifted a weight off your shoulders, and though you knew there were still challenges ahead, for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could face them.

Leah returned a few moments later, Finley in her arms, his tiny face scrunched up in a cry that had yet to reach its full volume. She settled back onto the bed beside you, cradling him as she handed him over to you. “He missed his mama,” she said softly.

“Oh hi baby boy,” you cooed as you got ready to feed him, “Are you hungry?”

Finley’s little hands brushed against his face as a little cry escaped him. You helped him latch on, his cries instantly stopping as he began to eat. Leah watched you with a smile as you cradled Finley close, her eyes filled with love and admiration. Leah leaned back against the headboard, her hand resting on your knee, offering silent support.

When Finley was finally settled and full, his tiny eyelids drooping with the onset of sleep, Leah gently took him from your arms, placing him into his Moses basket beside the bed. She returned to your side and helped you stand up, her hand slipping into yours, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a comforting gesture.

“Why don’t we take a shower?” Leah suggested softly, “I think it’ll help you feel a bit better, a bit more human.”

You hesitated for a moment, the thought of being vulnerable in front of her making your heart race with anxiety. “But what about Finn he won’t sleep for—.”

“Finley will be just fine, we’ll be right beside him.” Leah reassured you, “We’ll have the baby monitor and he’ll be okay.”

You nodded in agreement. “Okay,” you whispered. “Let’s take a shower.”

Leah smiled and led you to the bathroom, turning on the shower to let the water warm up. The steam began to fill the room, and Leah slowly helped you undress, her touch gentle. She treated each movement as if it were sacred, a tender act of love rather than something to be ashamed of.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, as she placed a kiss on your bare shoulder. “So, so beautiful.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you didn’t shy away from her gaze this time. Instead, you let the words sink in, trying to believe them, if only a little.

Leah undressed as well, and then she guided you into the shower. The warm water cascaded over you both, and you closed your eyes, feeling the tension slowly melt away as the heat seeped into your muscles. Leah’s hands were gentle as she began to wash your body, her touch soothing and affectionate. She took her time, making sure you felt cared for and loved.

“You’re not just my partner you know?” she said softly. “You’re my best friend, the mother of our child, and the woman I’m going to love for the rest of my life. And I promise you, we’re going to get through this together.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but this time they were tears of love. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, turn around and I’ll wash your hair yeah?” She offered, “I’ll help you dry it too, you don’t need to worry.”

You turned around with a smile and let Leah wash your hair gently. Her hands gave you a soft massage as she rubbed in the shampoo before washing it out.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, Leah wrapped you in a fluffy towel, helping you dry off with the same care she had shown before. She helped you into some comfortable clothes, her actions gentle and loving. She helped you dry your hair, Finley still asleep in his Moses basket as she did so.

As you both headed back to bed, despite it being only 3 pm, Leah slipped in beside you, pulling you close against her. The two of you lay there in the quiet, Finley’s soft breathing filling the room.

Leah’s hand slipped under your shirt as you cuddled into her, “We’re going to be okay.”

You nodded, as she drew patterns on your back gently. “Yeah,” you whispered back, resting your head on her shoulder. “We will.”

[signanothername]

penny for your thoughts on dadmare and more fandom takes??

🪙

Tbh Anon you have to be a bit more specific with what fandom takes you want my opinion on cause I genuinely can’t think of any shshhshshs

But for dadmare… hmmmmmmm

It’s… I have complicated feelings about this trope

Like on one hand, I love the exploration of dadmare as a concept and would genuinely love for it to be explored in a deep meaningful way

On the other hand… the fandom never actually explores it in a deep meaningful way so everytime I come across dadmare a part of me dies inside

Like the fandom immediately settles for “tired generic dad trying to control his rowdy kids” and i’m here like :’)

Like i’d love for dadmare to actually be explored in depth, like the shift for Nightmare from being a bitch to being “dadmare” how does Nightmare deal with MTT in a dadmare way while staying true to his character

How did Nightmare develop and change and how does he feel about being “dadmare”, does he struggle to face the consequences of the abuse he put MTT through and how does he make it up to them? but like also for the love of god you can explore this trope without having MTT act like children, they’re literally +30 old men and you don’t have to infantilize them for the trope to work

Also hot take but everytime MTT call Nightmare “dad” unironically an angel loses its wings, it just ruins the vibes for me, like dadmare is a trope yet people genuinely take it too literally, which again just plays into the infantilization of adult characters

Hell, relationships aren’t one sided, how does MTT feel about Nightmare’s shift, do they trust him or do they take it as an opportunity to escape, do they hate Nightmare but warm up to him or do they not care for his change of heart

Like here’s an example, when people write dadmare, they write his ability to absorb MTT’s negativity to relieve them of their pain right? Ok cool, I LOVE THAT! What I hate tho is the fact every single person in the gang seems to “trust” Nightmare with their life and how all of them react the same way

Basically the MTT are reduced to cardboard cutouts that are literally just duplicates of each other, they all have the exact same reaction to anything Nightmare does, like you’re actually gonna sit here and tell me that Killer trusts Nightmare with his soul????? What did Nightmare do to earn that trust, and Killer isn’t a trusting person to begin with

Hell what did Nightmare do in the first place? Even when the interpretation of Nightmare is that he’s kind from the beginning and that he “saved them”, do you honestly believe that Murder would genuinely feel saved? Are you gonna tell me Horror is gonna stay and live with Nightmare by his own volition and abandon his brother where he only goes back to “visit” him? Since when has Nightmare become more important to Horror than Papyrus?

Hell since when can Murder, Killer and Horror communicate well?? Since when were they super close to each other and since when was Murder ok with Killer’s existence considering his very dangerous Determination and Chara-like nature?

Since when was Killer super emotional in stage 2 and since when was his other stages completely forgotten to fit the perfectly happy and healthy family that the fandom is trying to force onto these obviously unhealthy characters with unhealthy relationships and destructive behaviors

Like don’t get me wrong, people are obviously allowed to explore their fave characters however they like, but my point is, I can’t enjoy the trope of Dadmare even tho i want to, cause the fandom just settles for very straight forward answers to every problem, every little problem is immediately resolved with a snap of a finger

Everything is happy and rainbows and roses and any problems the MTT have they just go to dadmare and suddenly they’re no longer self destructive cause dadmare immediately saves them cause he always has the answer!!!

And i’m here still waiting for an interpretation of dadmare that actually pulls me in and actually interests me like

[samandcolbyownme]

I got the itch to write dealer!Sam, so that’s what I’m doing. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of weed, flirting, kissing, rough actions, hair pulling, choking, biting, scratching, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie, filth

Word Count: 2.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You have a small smile to the man who helped you out of the car, “Thank you.”

He nods, “Not a problem, Miss y/l/n. Enjoy the party.”

You smile and walk up to the door, mumbling to yourself, “I definitely won’t.” You take a deep breath, sighing as you walk through the doors.

This hotel was absolutely breathtaking.

Crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, sculptures incorporated into the ceiling works, it was like you walked out of real life and entered something of the fairytale sorts.

“Champagne, Miss?”

You look up at the guy holding the tray of glasses holding bubbly, and you groan, “Yes, please. Yes.” You take the glass off of the tray and down it within seconds, “Hold on.”

You place the empty glass on the tray and the water raises his brows as you down the second glass, “Do you want the third one or should I just walk away?”

He laughs as you look at him and you smile, laughing softly, “I’ll take the third, please.”

“It’s yours.” He smiles and gives you a nod, “Enjoy your night.” He walks away and you bring the glass up to your lips, sipping it as you move to walk around.

“I thought big parties weren’t your thing?”

You turn around to your friend, Alisha, “They’re not, but you know I can’t turn down an open bar.” You joke, bringing the glass up to your lips.

“You mean, you can’t say no to Sam.” She smirks and shakes her head, “I know you, y/n. You can’t lie to me.”

“Okay.” You roll your eyes, “You got me on that one, but we just friends, you know. He deals me weed and we keep it at that. Easy peasy, lemon squeezey.”

“You’d let him squeeze your lemon if he asked.” She laughs into her glass and you push her, “Oh my god, shut your mouth.”

You take a sip of your drink, “But yes.”

You both laugh and you look around, “Speaking of. I gotta find him. I need to place an order.”

“You’re out already? Didn’t you just see him two days ago?” She raises her brows and you shake your head, “No, no. I want..” you move in, “I want to see if he has anything right now. I’m anxious as fuck being around all of these rich people.”

“Y/n.” She pauses, “You’re a part of these rich people.”

“What? Just because I’m good friends with the son of the people who own this place?”

She nods, “Yeah. Kinda.”

You shake your head, perking up when you see Sam making his way down the steps, “Oh. There he is.” You chug your drink and hand it to Alisha, “Take care of this for me?”

She scoffs at your empty glass in her hand, but takes it anyway, “Just tell him you love him already.”

“Not gonna happen.” You glance back at her as you walk away and smirk, turning to make your way through the crowd.

Sam looks around, doing a double take when he sees you. He smiles and lifts his hand to wave, looking back at the man he’s talking to, “Hey, I’ll find you later.”

You smirk, tilting your head as he walks up to you, “I thought you weren’t coming?”

You shrug, “Changed my mind, I guess.”

He smiles, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, I’ve already had three.” You laugh and he raises his brows, “Already? Didn’t you just get here?”

You laugh, “You know crowded places like this make me anxious.” You look around and back at him as he tilts his head, “Uh huh.”

You step closer, “You um, wanna disappear for a little bit?”

“Y/n y/l/n. Are you trying to avoid this party?” Sam fights back a smirk and you sigh, groaning as you tilt your head back, “Sam.”

“Ask nicely and maybe I’ll consider it.” He smirks and you fight back a smile, “I did ask nicely.”

“Did you?” He squints and tilts his head and you laugh, “Sam. Please.”

“Oh beggin’ me now, huh?” He leans in, “I kinda like that.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

“Do you?” You ask, rolling with the punches, “Cause, I can do a lot more if you help me out.” You look up at him, tilting your head as you bat your lashes.

“If I give this to you, what do I get in return, hmm?”

You could tell he was joking, but you shake your head, letting out a sigh as you speak nothing but the truth, “Maybe you’ll get the confession of being so in love with you that it hurts, or you’ll get me on my knees, your pick.”

His brows flick up and he takes a shaky breath, “I was thinking more along the lines of you won’t leave this party early but goddamn, y/n.” He wraps his arm around your waist, “I’m good with getting both of those options.” He nods, “C’mon.”

You bite your lip as you walk with him, your hand gripping his jacket as he leads you towards the elevator.

“Sam.” A voice calls out, “Where are you going?”

He turns, you still attached to his hips, “Upstairs.”

The man glances at you and he sighs, “You have the toast to make here soon.”

Sam looks at the elevator as the doors open, “Just stall. I’ll be back soon.” He nudges you towards the elevator and walks in behind you.

The doors aren’t even closed yet and your leg is already brought up next to his hip, his hand holding your thigh as his lips attack yours, “So..” he says in between kisses, “You love me, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.” You smile, tilting your head back as he kisses down your neck, “And I promise, it’s not just because you’re my dealer.”

“Oh good.” Sam leans back, brushing hair from your face, “I was hoping it was my charming personality that caught your attention.”

You laugh, “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons.” You pull him back in, moaning lowly as he bites down on your lower lip.

The doors open and he pulls you forward as he walks backwards off of the elevator. He spins, your hand in his as he leads you down the corridor.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you glance over at him.

He looks over at you as he pulls a keycard from his pants pocket, “My penthouse suite.” He smirks, “That a problem?”

You shake your head as he pushes the door open, “Nothing about any of this is a problem.”

You walk in and Sam is right behind you, his hand grabbing yours as he pushes the door closed with the other, “Where are you rushing off to? Thought you wanted something first?”

“Rearranging things is never a problem.” You pull him towards you, your hands sliding up to push his jacket off of his shoulders as he leans in to kiss you.

He pushes his jacket off before his hands find your hips, squeezing as he walks you back into the wall. His hand slides down, pulling the slit of your dress up further, “God, you are so beautiful.”

You smile against his lips, “I came here tonight just for you.”

“I figured.” He chuckles and steps back, “Come on.” He leads you into his room and you raise your brows, “Wow. All of this and just you?”

He wraps his arms around you and sighs, “Yeah, well that’s what happens when the person you like doesn’t say anything to you until now.”

You roll your eyes with a smirk, “My apologies Mr. Golbach.”

“Mhm.” He smiles and reaches up with one hand to cup your cheek before planting a kiss on your lips, “How about you get that dress off now.”

You feel the zipper on the back slide down, revealing your back and you gasp quietly before it drops down to the floor, pooling at your feet.

He walks you back to the bed, his lips trailing up and down your neck before your legs hit the edge, causing you to sit down.

He drops down to his knees, reaching up to pull your panties down your legs. He tosses them down before pushing your knees apart. You lean back onto your elbows, watching as he lifts your one leg over his shoulder.

He dips his head down, his tongue trailing up your slit and you gasp out, your body shifting as you move your arm to lay a hand on his head, “S-Sam!”

He groans against you as his tongue pushes in.

“F-fuck, fuck.” Your head tilts back, moans leaving your lips as Sam move his tongue to your clit. You watch down at him, his eyes on you as your face scrunches with pleasure, “Sam.. Sam..” you pant, “P-please.”

He pulls away, undoing his shirt as quickly as he can before undoing his belt and dropping his dress pants.

You bite your lip as your eyes fixate on the cock online in his boxers, the walls of your pussy clenching around nothing.

You continue to watch as his boxers leave his body and he starts to crawl up the bed as you move up, lying back as his body hovers over yours.

Your hands slide up his arms, legs spreading further apart as you feel the tip of his cock bump against your folds.

He pushes his hips forward, groaning lowly as his cock enters inside.

You tilt your head back more, the nails on your fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders as you let out loud moan after moan.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Sam moans lowly into your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin, “So fucking good.”

Your arms tighten around his neck as you tilt your head up to smash your lips against his.

He swallows your moans with ease, groaning as his thrusts pick up, “Feel good, baby?”

“Yes!” You moan loudly, gasping as you squeeze his cock, “Fuck, yes, yes. So good!”

He slides his hand up, laying it around your throat as he moans into your ear, “takin’ me so well, sweetheart.”

He leans up, hand still on your throat, “Fuck.” He groans as he looks down, watching his cock slip in and out of you, “So fucking hot.”

His eyes move back to your face, head tilting as he watches your eyes roll back with the harder he squeezes.

He bites down onto his lip, tilting his head back before letting go. His lips on hours muffled his groan and you wrap your legs tight around his waist, whining out, “So.. fuuuck, I’m right there, baby.”

Sam sucks a hickey onto your neck, groaning against you as he feels your walls spasm around him. Your limbs holding him tight as your back lifts up off the bed and your moans glide through the room.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck, good girl.”

Your breath hitches and your head snaps back to look at him. He smirks, “Ya like that or something?”

“Coming from you?” You smirk, gasping as his thrusts deeper, “Y-Yes.. a lot.”

He bites down on his lip, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I can give you a lot more if you let me.” He kisses up your jaw and to your lips, swallowing your moans as his thrusts resume.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning out as his grip on your outer thigh grows tighter, “Fuck, fuck, don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

“Goddamn.” Sam groans as he buries his face into your neck, moaning as his cock twitches inside of you. His thrusts slow down, slowly pushing his cum deeper into you.

He presses a few kisses to your neck, moving to your lips before rolling off of you, “So, how about that J now?”

You roll over, “Oh fuck, I forgot all about that.”

“That’s what you wanted first, wasn’t it?” Sam chuckles as he presses a kiss to your forward before getting up.

“I mean, it was, but like I said, I’m not worried about rearranging.” You smirk and sit up, moving to grab your panties and slip them on.

You walk over and watch as he brings the joint to his lips, “Here.” He breathes out, “I’m gonna get redressed.”

You groan before taking a drag, turning to watch him grab his clothes. You exhale the smoke, “We still have to do that?”

He laughs, nodding his head as he slips on his boxers and pants, “Yes, babe. We do. Well, I do. If you want to hang out-“

“No.” You shake your head, “I’m good to go.” You take another hit and smile as you walk over to him. You blow out the smoke, “As long as I’m with you down there, I’ll be good.”

“You can be wherever with me.” He smiles as he takes the joint from your fingers. You smile and watch as he takes a hit before giving it back, “You know..” he blows out the smoke, “You’ll have to pay for this later.”

You bite your lip, “Yeah?” You tilt your head, taking a drag, “What do you want?” You hold it for a few more seconds and exhale as he chuckles, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

He flicks his brows up and pecks your cheek, “Get dressed.”

You hand him back the joint and walk over to grab your dress, “You’ll be paying for this later.” You tease as you slip your dress up your body.

Sam walks over, “Yeah, what do you want?”

You smirk, glancing over your shoulder, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Wow okay, idk how I feel about this, I like the ending but idkkkkk let me know. I love you all so much for reading my stuff. You mean the world to me! I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[tpwk-formula1]

Daniel Riccardo Sicilian crust Red Sauce Ham Lemonade Mt Dew (dom!reader) Yes Dessert

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian crust hooking up red sauce rough sex ham "You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" lemonade body worship mt dew dom/sub dessert yes served by Daniel Riccardo

Daniel x FWB! reader

TW - riding, dom(kinda reader), more sweet sex than rough, face sitting, praise

WC - 1600+

Y/N POV

"Danny come here," I tell Daniel when he finally shows back from the Paddock well past 2 in the morning.

I was tired, my body was exhausted but Daniel was wired and needed to be doing something I could tell that much.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" I asked Daniel when he crawled into the bed next to me.

He just shook his head and we fell silent for a few minutes just sitting on our phones decompressing from the long day when he finally spoke up.

"Can I ask you something?" Says Daniel making me up my phone down and give him my full attention.

"Of course always," I reply back softly.

"Can you be in charge?" Daniel asks making me raise a brow slightly in confusion.

"In charge of what Danny?" I ask back.

"Like can you like dom me?" Danny asks softly making me smile and laugh a little.

"Why?"

"Cause I wanna be a pillow princess for a day," Danny replies back making both of us bust out laughing before I finally just shrug my shoulders and agree.

"I mean it seems fun," I tell him softly.

"Strip, now," I say after a couple seconds instantly making the atmosphere in the room change. Daniel was staring at me with his jaw dropped in complete shock at the change in my voice.

"I didn't say stare at me. I said to strip now," I tell him again when he made no effort to start stripping. I gently pushed Daniel's shoulder snapping him out of whatever trance he was in and instantly started stripping into nothing leaving him completely bare on top of the white comforter the hotel had provided.

When Daniel was sprawled out on the bed I pulled off my sleep shirt leaving me in just lacey panties I was planning to wear to bed.

I crawled on top of Daniel's lap and bent down to kiss him a few times muttering a few incoherent words before trailing my kisses down his jaw and neck making sure to hit all his sweet spots.

"You're so good Daniel, you deserve the world," I tell him softly while still placing soft kisses around his chest.

With the way that I was bending down over Daniel's body, I could feel his cock getting harder at the praise making me smirk slightly.

"Already getting hard for me I can feel it," I tease while taking just the tip of my finger and tracing from the tip of his cock down to his balls where I grip them into my hand slightly making Daniel hiss.

"I love the sounds you make," I continue teasing while I slowly start jerking his cock off.

"More, please give me more," Daniel whines making me smirk and shake my head no while still keeping the same slow pace that I know is torturing Daniel.

When Daniel was rock hard and even leaking a little bit of precum I release his cock resulting in Daniel letting out a loud whine in retaliation which just makes me smirk more before I slip my panties off taking a few extra seconds due to the weird angle I was at.

Once my panties where off I crawl next to Daniel's body up to his head where I give him a soft smirk before swinging one of my legs over his head so my soaked core was above him.

"I wanna cum two times and then I'll give you want you want," I tell Daniel making him instantly wrap his arms around my thighs and pulling my down so I was seated right on his mouth. Daniel wastes no time in pulling my clit into his mouth making me let out a loud moan.

I lean down slightly and pull Daniel's cock into my mouth sucking on the tip slightly.

I knew what I was doing to Daniel's cock would not be enough to make him cum which had his hips squirming and bucking trying to get more stimulation.

Daniel slipped two fingers into my tight walls and instantly found my G-spot making me moan around his cock.

While Daniel and I weren't technically lovers and just friends we still explored each other's bodies often. Daniel knew how to make me cum in a matter of minutes and I know how to make Daniel cum in a matter of minutes. It was a stupid little deal we made when we were both horny teenagers and now well into adulthood have continued to be each other's person when we are both single. It was nice not having to find a random man to hook up with when I'm in need. I just had to call my best friend and he would be at the door in a matter of minutes.

"Danny," I gasp when I feel my first orgasm approaching making Daniel speed up just slightly which resulted in me cumming all over his fingers and face.

I knew when I moved from Daniel's body his face would be covered in my slick as he has always been such a messy eater.

"Fuck, I need you now," I groan before climbing off of Daniel's face. Fuck the other orgasm I needed Daniel's cock in me right now.

I climb back into Daniel's lap wasting no time in sinking down his cock and instantly start bouncing. I gave myself no time to adjust not wanting to give Daniel anytime for his brain to process the pleasure.

"Fuck," Daniel groans after a few seconds. He was already breathing fast and gripping at my hips helping me keep up the brutal pace that surely would leave me with a bruised cervix but we both needed this kind of fucking right now.

You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" I tell Daniel with a smirk making his eyes go wide when he realized what I had said to him.

It was one of the first degrading things he had said to me when we were in the early stages of hooking up and I instantly slapped him in the face not understanding how degrading worked. It was something we had talked about over the years laughing slightly but now in this moment, I could see Daniel's eyes darken in pure lust loving every moment of being my bitch.

"Fuck," Daniel groans, while gripping onto my hips in a bruising fashion. I loved riding Daniel's cock, it was one of the angles that made me feel Daniel all over. Like the way his cock hits all the right places over and over again.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Daniel groans while trying to pull me off his cock to blow his load but I just push his hands away and lean down on Daniel's chest before moving my hips in short but fast thrusts making Daniel whine and still try to push me away but I stayed firm in my position.

"Get up, I'm gonna-" But before Daniel can even finish his sentence he starts cumming deep into my pussy making me start cumming just from the feeling of his cum hitting the walls of my pussy.

When I started cumming I stopped thrusting my hips but made sure to keep rocking my hips to help ride both Daniel and I's orgasms out.

"Fuck, I came in you," Daniel says when we both come down from our highs.

"Are you clean?" I ask a question I already know the answer to.

"Yes, you know this," Daniel replies back while turning on his side and pulling me to his chest so we can cuddle.

"Then it's not an issue," I say simply with a shrug. Daniel just shook his head in confusion but not really question it any further. When we got into adulthood we stopped using protection as much but Daniel had always pulled out per my request but I started birth control about a year ago for other reasons and I finally feel like I've been taking it long enough to feel somewhat okay.

"Fuck, I'm gonna wanna cum in you every time now," Daniel says with a smirk making me laugh slightly.

"That's fine, I'm on birth control now," I tell Daniel making me look at me with pure shock. It had been something I refused to take for years scared of it ruining my body but after being diagnosed with PCOS I knew I needed a bit of help.

"Well, whatever you think is best for your body I will always support," Daniel tells me softly before pulling me in for a slow kiss.

"Thank you," Daniel says after a few seconds of silence.

"For?" I ask back a little confused. Daniel had never once thanked me for sex so I was confused why he would start over a decade later.

"For making life a little easier to live, and being the best kind of distraction," he replied back honestly making me smile and wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me.

"You've always been my favorite distraction. And truthfully I loved every moment of tonight," I reply back making Daniel smile.

"I could tell, I'm definitely gonna let you take over more often, love the way your pussy grips my cock when you ride me," Daniel replies back making my face heat.

"Go on a date with me," I tell Daniel making his head shoot up but a smile across his face.

"I know you were in charge tonight but I wanted to ask you out first," Daniel said with a joking whine laced in his voice.

"Beat ya to it! you had all these years to ask," I reply back with a smile.

"But yes, I will go on a date with you. A real one though, one with the intention of making you more than just my best friend I fuck almost daily," Daniel said.

"Good, cause I don't think I can keep seeing you date shitty woman," I reply back honestly making Daniel smile and pull me in a bit tighter.

[thecuriousbeauty]

You're on your period- Harry Styles Blurb

Word count: 1178

Synopsis: Periods really suck. But not so much when you have a sweet boyfriend to take care of you. (FLUFF!)

You felt like you were going to cry as you opened the freezer and saw that you were out of ice cream. You were looking forward to binge eating that ice cream and watching your favorite show when you get back from work. You had a particularly long day, or maybe you just felt like that because of the piercing pain from your period cramps and your hormones being all over the place. 

You shut the door of the freezer with a sigh, dragging yourself to bed. You curled up, clutching your stomach as another bad wave of pain hits you. You forgot to take some pain meds when you were downstairs, and you were just too tired so you just layed there.Your boyfriend, who you now remember, had helped you finish the last of the ice cream when you had a movie night last week wasn’t home yet, so you phoned him.

“Hey baby! You back home?”, Harry answers and you pout, just wanting to crawl into his arms. “Harry..”

“What’s wrong, darling? Are you okay?” He doesn’t like it when your voice isn’t sounding peppy.

“Nooo..”, you draw out, making Harry frown  as he gets in his car, being done with the studio for the day. “Why is that, baby? Anything I can help with?”

“We ran out of ice cream..can you get some for me please?”, you ask softly, making Harry’s heart melt. He loved when you asked him to get things for you, even if it was something small. 

“Of course, love. You aren’t feeling too good, are you?”, he coos, joining the dots as he remembers the date. He keeps track of your periods too. 

“Nuh uh. I’m having a war with my uterus right now.”, you tell him, making him chuckle softly. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. Anything else you need, baby? Stocked up for the week?”

You really have the sweetest boyfriend. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need you.”

“Aw, I’ll be home soon, my love. You get some rest, yeah?”

You hummed, closing your eyes already. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Oh, what flavor did you want?”

“Flavor?”, you smirk, and Harry laughs. “The ice cream flavor, silly.”

___________________________________

Harry didn’t just buy you ice cream. He got you your favorite packet of chips, some chocolate and some other snacks you liked. He kept it all in the kitchen and went upstairs to find you. You had dozed off while waiting for him, and he smiled as he took you in, walking to you quietly. He leaned down, gently brushing his fingers across your forehead, brushing away strands of your hair that fell onto your face. 

He thought not to wake you up and just slide into bed so he could give you a cuddle, but he spotted a stain on your shorts that would leak into the sheets soon. He didn’t mind, but he knew you would, so he gently kisses you awake with some kisses. 

You wake up to his feather soft kisses on your skin, a contrast to your aching stomach. You open your eyes and Harry gives you a smile. “How’re you doing, love?”

“Not good, it hurts.”, you mumble, sighing as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Oh, baby. You wanna take a warm shower, maybe? You’ve uh, got a bit of blood on your shorts.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked down to your shorts and around the bed. “Shit..I’m sorry babe, I fell asleep and didn’t realize-”

“-Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”, he says, giving you his hand to help you out of bed. Thankfully, the blood hadn’t seeped into your sheets yet. “See, the sheets are fine. If it wasn’t, I’d change them, nothing to be sorry about.”, Harry tells you, and you smile softly, leaning to his side carefully, giving him a side hug. 

“I’ve got you some snacks too. After you’re feeling all fresh, we can cuddle up on the couch with a movie, hm?”

You nod, pressing your lips to his, giving him a kiss. “That sounds good.”

Harry lets you take care of your business and shower. He also got changed and set up all the food with a movie, bringing your fuzzy blanket to the couch. He got your heating pad and your pain meds ready as well.

You slouched over downstairs in one of Harry’s shirts and another pair of your shorts, making him smile at how cute you looked. Your hair was up in a messy bun, and you had no makeup on your face, but to him, you were gorgeous.

He opens his arms, and you fall into them, crawling onto his lap. “How was your day?”

“Good, good. Got some recording done, but I’ll probably do the same part again tomorrow. I missed you.”, he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, holding you close to him with arm as he leans over to grab the pain meds. “Here, take these, love.”

You swallowed them down with the water he gave you and rested your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warmth. 

While you tell him about your day, he slides the heating pad under your shirt to keep it over your tummy, before adjusting you on his lap and bringing the fuzzy blanket around you. One of his hands slips inside to rub your lower back in firm circles, with just the right amount of pressure, making you feel relaxed. When you told him about your ice cream craving, he immediately grabbed the tub and gave you the spoon so you can start digging in. 

“Thanks for all this, you’re the best.” You kiss him. 

“Only the best for you.”, he says, smiling as he watches you scoop some of the ice cream into your mouth and hum as the cold desert with the luscious chocolate hits just the right spots. “That good, huh?” Harry laughs.

“Yes! Here, I’m willing to share.”, You fed him some too. “Mm, that’s good.”, he agrees. You watch the movie for some time.

“Is the pain going away?”, he asks, pressing kisses to your hair and you smile, kissing his jaw. One of his hands still stayed on your back, and the other was playing with your hair. “Mhmm. You make it better.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Hate to see my baby in pain.” You blush, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. “I really like you, you know?”

He scoffs out a laugh, pinching your cheek. “You really like me? Give that ice cream back.” He moves his hand to your side, his fingertips dancing over your skin as he looks at with a glint in his eyes. He adores you. 

You giggle, going to grab his hand as it threatens to tickle you. “Correction! I really love you.”

“Hm, you better.” Harry nudges his nose against your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You laugh, and he takes your chin, giving you a kiss. “Cause I really love you too.”

_______________________________________________

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