#I’m just calling myself out with this one

[zriasstuff]

Them after especially rough ykyk

Slytherin boys x reader (hcanons, aged up to 18 years old)

Warnings: soft smut, 16+ I’d say (?), on my shit again after a long time I’m sorry, no Draco and idc if he’s the original slytherin boy, go on Wattpad if you want Draco bc there’s enough of him on there /jk but not rlly

Theodore Nott:

you’d be incredibly flushed afterwards, panting and still holding onto the sheets for dear life

your eyes closed, lips swollen and slightly hanging open, trying to get yourself down from your high

he’d immediately hover over you (still undressed, only in boxers), both his arms on your side to support himself

“fucked you a little too good, didn’t I?”, he’d cockily ask and he’d just gently stroke your flushed cheeks with his thumb

you would counter, but your throat felt too hoarse from all the obscene noises he had coaxed out of you

“c’mon let’s get you cleaned up, you did so well for me”/“you are always so good for me, my perfect girl” he’d praise you, knowing you would let him do it all over again just for him to call you his good girl

Tom Riddle:

with Tom it’s never soft, bu when you have a especially rough session with him, it is rough

afterwards you’d most likely still be tied up by your wrists, or facing downward with your face on a pillow, insides feeling twisted and hypersensitive

you would barely be able to move and especially your legs would be quivering if you tried to get up

Tom definitely knows when you’ve reached your limits, but sometimes he actively pushes those to remind you of your place, you are there for his pleasure

He isn’t the praise type, but he’d quietly clean up and allow you to cuddle him, but only if he felt completely fulfilled

Matthew Riddle:

usually it’s a mix of rough and soft with him, but both of you need those rough sessions sometimes for a complete stress release

afterwards he’d worship you from top to bottom, leaving soft kisses from your jaw to your stomach

he’d rub over all the hickeys he left, the bruised spots and your plump (fuvked out) lips of course

while stroking your hair he would tell you how much he loved you and how amazing it was with you

he’d help you get up and go to the shower, having a soft make out session in there of course, and afterwards do whatever you wanted

mostly it’d just be cuddling or talking

Blaise Zabini:

knowing that you didn’t use your safe word, he’d still ask if you were alright

after making sure, and checking up on you he’d make you sit up and sip some water (somehow he’d always insists that)

“you think you can handle one more?”, he’d jokingly ask to make you smile after having made you (s)cream

he’d want to discuss what went well and what could be improved upon, to fuck you even better next time

although that sounds like a joke, he means it fully

when you tell him that he couldn’t possibly make you feel better, or how good he is, he just smirks, knowing no one could do what he does

Lorenzo Berkshire:

he’d totally tease you so much, especially if you begged for him to go rougher

“I knew my princess liked it rough”/“just needed someone to fuck you into your place didn’t you”/“look at you, all fucked out like some slut, and enjoying it too”

of course he’d make sure you were alright too, asking whether he went too hard

“it’s hard to control myself when it comes to you y’know”, he’d seductively murmur in his deep voice, while caressing your body

after being especially rough, he would want to be the perfect boyfriend the entire week, attending to your every wish; basically golden retriever behavior

[forestmossling]

just imagine rockstar! eddie releasing a new album, where one of the songs is called “a voice from above”. in it, he sings about a heavenly voice coming to him in the hardest, darkest hour of his life, when he was ready to give up and stopped seeing a future for himself, and calling him towards the light, coaxing the best out of him and pulling him up from the pit of despair eddie was slowly drowning in.

and it’s a rock ballad, so it differs quite a bit from cc’s usual style, is more “palatable” to the general public with it’s slower tempo, gentler melody and hauntingly beautiful vocals, with addition of a choir in the climax. and because of that, christians start claiming it (basically what happened with “take me to church”), newspapers and magazines wonder at eddie munson, the man a large part of whose aesthetic was so often referred to as “satanic” by the general public, with seemingly no denial from cc, who seemingly has finally found his way to religion.

and when cc comes to their next interview, the question of whether the great non-conformist eddie munson, who on multiple occasions dragged the christian church through the mud with accusations of hypocrisy and fostering bigotry in its midst in his songs and public speeches, has finally found god, inevitably comes up. the moment cc hear it they burst out laughing. after a while, eddie finally responds.

“this song is full of religious motifs, but not nearly for the same reasons you guys seem to think it is. it’s just that the experience the song is dedicated to was the closest i think i ever came to understanding what makes people come to real, genuine faith, the one that fills you with clarity, love and acceptance for the world around you, makes you feel like a part of something so much larger and greater than a mortal human being can possibly comprehend or reach on their own. that experience being the voice of the man that i came to love reaching me while i was in coma and reminding me of all the reasons life was worth fighting for, and then keeping inspiring me to be the best version of myself throughout my whole life.

and that, folks, is how being incredibly gay can save your life! i also don’t mind christians blasting “a voice from above” on their little church parties: my husband, after all, is definitely an angel on earth and absolutely deserves to be worshipped. but don’t you worry, i’m handling that pretty well on my own” and he winks at the camera.

and that’s how the world finds out that eddie munson is married.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

( 🟦 🎞️ 🟦 )

AITA for telling my coworker that he’s stupid for liking an objectively TERRIBLE film?

I (27M) and my coworker (25M) usually have “movie nights” on our days off. We find time to sit down and watch a movie together. He’s usually agreeable on what movie I want to watch, but sometimes I do let him choose the movie, as long as I don’t find it too unbearable. (His taste in cinema is below average.)

Earlier today, he reminded me that neither of us were scheduled on Friday or Saturday, and he asked me if I wanted to do a movie night. I agreed, and asked him if he wanted to watch anything in particular. (This is more of a pleasantry. He usually never suggests anything specific when I ask this.)

Surprisingly, he said that he did have a movie in mind! Unfortunately, the movie he had in mind was the 2009 movie, Avatar. The one with the blue people.

After he said this to me, I laughed at him, because no one actually LIKES that movie. The best anyone can say is that it’s visually appealing! The plot is drawn out, bland, and not worth nearly three hours of my time. I asked him if he was serious about wanting to watch it, because I never took him for the type to enjoy something so dull.

He frowned at me and said that he'd watched it a few times with his ex-girlfriend when they were still dating, and that he’d really liked it… and not just for the visual aspect? He said that he wanted to watch it with me too. He continued to justify it by bringing up the fact that I like other sci-fi movies and shows, and that he didn’t see how this was any different from those.

I told him that it was different because there was no reason for a movie to go for so LONG and to give so LITTLE, and he started whining about the first Lord of the Rings movie (which we’d watched a few months ago) and how it was longer than Avatar.

I told him that there was a HUGE difference: LotR is actually good! This only seemed to upset him more. He scoffed at me, saying that I couldn’t see a good movie if it was right in front of me. He said this jokingly, but I could tell he was upset. I glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

After a few seconds of tense silence, he asked AGAIN if we could watch it on Friday, because I’m the one who always picks the movies, and that it was unfair that he never got to pick any. I told him no, because Avatar is an awful film, and that he was really stupid for liking it.

I don’t think I’m wrong for telling him that Avatar sucks, considering it’s common knowledge, but calling him stupid might’ve crossed the line for him. I’m pretty sure that this comment is what made him mad, because it sparked a bigger argument, which eventually led to him sleeping on the couch for the night. I’ve called him stupid in other situations before, so I’m not sure why he’s making such a big deal about it now.

I don’t think I’m the asshole… If I am, I’m definitely justified. The only reason I’m asking is because a close friend of mine (28X) said that I was too harsh about it, so now I'm second-guessing myself. AITA for telling my coworker that he’s stupid for liking an objectively TERRIBLE film?

[uzurakis]

hi kiara! can you please make a continuation of “their act of intimacy” but with gojo, toji, and sukuna? i melted the first time i read them with the other characters 😭 hope you have a good day ahead of you ❤️

THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY?

featuring: gojo satoru. ryomen sukuna. toji fushiguro.

n. aaa thanku for liking the previous one! this is for you nonnie <3 didn’t really proofread cause i’m running late on sleep lol. PART ONE HERE :0

GOJO SATORU. gojo finds it calming when you both take a shower together. however, his notion of "calming" may differ from the ordinary. instead of drowsing in warm water and doing all those private things such as soaping his back and shampooing his hair, you and him sometimes have other spontaneous ideas in mind.

as the warm water cascaded down, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of closeness that's as comforting as it is exhilarating. satoru, with his irrepressible charm and mischievous grin, stood beside you, his presence filled the space with a playful energy.

"ah, feels like heaven," he sighed, whilst eyes gleaming with shenanigans. you chuckled, reaching for the shampoo. “don’t start a water fight again, satoru. let us enjoy a nice and relaxing—“

but before you could react, a splash of water hit you square in the face, causing you to sputter and laugh. “gotcha!" the man exclaimed, his laughter echoed through the tiled walls.

"it’s sooo on now!" you declared, retaliating with a splash of your own.

and just like that, the bathroom transformed into a battleground, with water flying in every direction as you both engaged in your playful antics. amidst the laughter and the splashing, there's an undeniable sense of joy that filled the room.

"careful, satoru," you warned, dodging his playful advances, "you're going to get soap in your eyes."

but he just grinned. "not before you get ‘em first, babe.”

and so, you guys continued your playful banter. soaked to the bone and grinning from ear to ear, gojo satoru defines his own calming moments with you.

RYOMEN SUKUNA. your boyfriend is a big guy, or so he believes before you swoop in and baby him. does he resist? yes. but will he eventually agree? absolutely.

the aroma of freshly cooked pasta filled the air as you stood in the kitchen. across the room, your boyfriend, sukuna, leaned against the counter, watching you with a bemused expression. you took a small portion with a spoon in hand, "say 'a' for me, sukuna.”

"hell nah.” his face was holding back the disgust. “you know, i can feed myself, right?"

"come on, baby, just one bite," you urged, eyes pleading. he hesitated for a moment, then sighed, giving in to you. “no—tsk, fine.”

“just this once.”

as he reluctantly opened his mouth, you couldn't help but suppress a giggle at the sight of him being spoon-fed like a child. your boyfriend’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he quickly swallowed the pasta, avoiding your gaze.

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?" you teased, unable to contain your amusement.

he grumbled something unintelligible in response, but as you proceeded to feed him, he took every piece and never turned it down until the last bite.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. toji never declines your offer to groom him. he rarely takes attention to his appearance, whereas you insist on cleaning up him up and do it with your own hands. at first, he doesn't think of it as intimate thing because isn’t it just about cutting and shaving? but as time goes on, he understands how much you value him and treasures the time you spent solely on him.

the soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue over the cozy living room. toji sat on the couch, his unkempt hair falling into his eyes. you watched him from afar with a fond smile tugging at your lips.

“toji,” you called out. “your hair has gotten longer than the last time i remember.” he chuckled softly, already accustomed to this routine. "is it that time again?"

with scissors and a comb in hand, you approached him with a smile. “c’mere, sit down, baby.”

letting a shrug plus a grin, the man complied, settling onto the stool you'd placed in the middle of the room. as you draped a towel around his shoulders, his eyes met yours in the mirror.

"you know, i understand why you enjoy doing this so much.” he admitted, leaning back as you began to comb through his hair.

"you know why?” you replied, your voice soft as you worked. "it's about taking care of each other, babe. showing love in the little things."

he fell silent at your words, mulling them over as you continued to trim away stray strands. gradually, the tension seemed to melt from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of ease and contentment.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 7 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.6k c/w: language, sexual content (like pure filth, please be prepared) a/n: i understand we are all quite angry with me for that last chapter. listen. it'll all work out. i promise!

I sit on the wood floor of Crisler Center, stretching out my muscles, my teammates on the floor next to me. I lean forward, my legs splayed out on either side of me. I reach as far forward as I can, groaning as my tired muscles shift. We had a grueling practice yesterday, and decided to have a wine night in one of the dance girls’ apartments before our women’s game against UConn this evening.

Bad idea.

There’s a slight ache between my eyebrows, and my stomach is churning. Though, that may be the anxiety of having to see Paige again.

I ease up off the floor, checking the time on the clock on the far end of the gym. It’s almost time for the opposing team to come in for shoot around. I sigh, debating between staying and seeing her now, or seeing her before the game and having it potentially throw off my performance. 

She makes the decision for me, jogging in with the rest of the Huskies. My heart leaps to my throat when I see her. Her hair is braided into a ponytail - her hair has gotten longer. It swings down her back as she runs. Her shoulders are broad in the warm-up. I take in the shadow under her defined cheekbones and jawline, the slight furrow of her brow as she registers my teammates, eyes brightening as they search for me. Her lips part when they land on me and catch my gaze.

I offer her a small smile and a wave. She nearly trips over her own feet. I let a small laugh escape me. She looks over to her teammates before changing direction and jogging over to me.

I’m in a tank top and flare leggings, but the way Paige is looking at me, the way her eyes are drinking me in - you’d think I was wearing the most exquisite gown in the world. “Hi,” she breathes. 

The sound of her voice sends me reeling. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it. “Hi, Paige,” I smile back softly, crossing my arms. 

She gestures to me. “You look- you look really good.”

My smile grows a bit. “Not great?” I tease.

She licks her lips, returning my grin. “Fucking incredible, how’s that?”

I roll my eyes, shoving her. My fingertips spark where they connect with her arm. “It’s all the conditioning.”

Paige shakes her head, eyes trained on my face. “No, it’s more than that. You look happy.” 

I tip my head to her team. “So do you.”

“I like seeing you like this,” she says quietly, taking a step closer.

My whole body aches to reach for her, to wrap my arms around her and hug her tight, to fall to my knees and scream and sob and cry and beg her to take me back. To tell her I was stupid, and fuck maturity and growth because it’s been eight fucking months and I still just want her. 

I don’t do any of that. “You, too,” I offer back. 

I’m grateful that my teammates call me away, and I turn my back to her stubbornly. Then, I hesitate.

When I turn back around, Paige is still standing there, staring at me, a wistful look on her face. I take two hurried steps to her, then balance a hand on her shoulder to push myself up to my tiptoes. I place a soft kiss on her cheek, and her hand immediately flies to my waist.

I nearly collapse into her touch, but I hold strong. When I pull away, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are tinged pink. I pat her arm. “Good luck today,” I whisper, then I jog back into my locker room. 

The game is something of a slaughter, and it feels for some reason like Paige is playing harder. At the end of it, she’s notched 29 points, 8 assists, 3 steals, and 3 blocks. She doesn’t turn the ball over once.

Paige stays back to take pictures with some fans, but I head back into the locker room to change. We hadn’t made any plans, though I’m sure both of us had marked this game mentally on our calendars. I figure if she wants to see me, she’ll text me.

A few of the girls suggested hitting the bars after the game, just to blow off some steam. I agree, figuring if I’m far, far away from Paige, I can’t do anything stupid.

No such luck.

Within five minutes of arriving at the first bar, the entirety of the UConn women’s basketball team rolls up, very loud and clearly very ready to drink. Paige is at the center of the fuss, whooping and hollering until her eyes land on me. Her arms shoot to her sides, eyes wide with alarm as though I’ve just chastised her. I bite back a smile at how cute she is. 

Maybe it’s the shot I’ve already taken. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t seen her in months. Maybe it’s the fact that the skin on my waist is still electrified from where she touched me earlier. I hold my hand up towards her, crooking my finger.

Paige’s expression shifts from bashful to curious. She makes her way over to me, leaning onto the other side of the elevated table. “Good game,” I note, swirling a straw in my dirty Shirley. She plucks the cherry out of it, popping it into her mouth. “I know,” she says smugly, smirking at me. I roll my eyes, feeling a smile tugging at my lips. “So cocky.”

“You always like that, though, huh?” 

I cock my head at her, taking a sip of my drink. “Mmm, not really.”

She places the stem of the cherry in between her teeth, chewing thoughtfully. “Maybe not on the court. But definitely in other places.”

My stomach tenses at this, and I lean further onto the table. There’s a tug in my chest, telling me this is going in a direction that it shouldn’t go. That I should stop this. 

“Like where?” I ask.

“What? You need a reminder?” She asks, slowly circling the table to reach me. She comes to a stop in front of me, bracing her hand on the table behind me. Her touch is light, but she’s effectively caging me in.

“Maybe I do,” I hum. Her eyes dart to my lips. Her other hand lands on my waist, palm gliding to my back, fingers splaying against my bare skin. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” she whispers, and I nod eagerly, reaching for her face. Her lips meet mine softly, insistently, saying everything I want to.

I miss you.

I want you.

I need you.

I let her kiss me, letting myself melt into her as her tongue pushes slowly between my lips. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way she tastes, so sweet and soft and familiar. I moan softly, and it spurs her on, her other hand moving to my waist to push her hips against mine. I kiss her back harder, breaths coming out shortly through my nose. 

“I’m going home with you tonight, aren’t I?” I pant, knowing all my bullshit about maturity and whatnot flew out the window the second her eyes met mine in this bar.

Paige nods, still kissing me hungrily. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

We hardly get inside my apartment before Paige is tugging on my clothing, muttering, “Off, off, off.” I laugh, tugging her to my room before shedding my crop top and my jeans. I push her onto my bed, straddling her waist in nothing but my panties and bra. Her hands fly to my ass, but I’m too focused on pulling her shirt off and tossing it to the side. 

Then I sag into her, balancing my arms around her shoulders and kissing her deeply.

I want to memorize the taste of her against my mouth, because I know this is only for tonight. 

Tomorrow, we go back to being strangers who know everything about one another.

Her hands fumble with the clasp of my bra, and I grin, helping her slide it off of me. “You played really good tonight,” I tell her. “Shut up,” she murmurs, fondling my tits. I sigh, tipping my head back. “No, really. It was hot,” I insist, reaching for the drawstring of her sweats, then deciding to just press my fingers into her clothed core. “If you need a game to get off too, I have a few good ones- oh, fuck, from the tournament last year.”

Her smartass comment is interrupted by me pressing hard against her core, eliciting the expletive. “You’re filthy,” I chide. “And you’re wet. Take your panties off.” She tosses me off of her, and I bounce onto the bed next to her. She pulls my panties down my legs, then gets off the bed to take off the rest of her clothing. 

“Speaking of getting off,” I mumble, watching her pull her bra over her head. I bite my lip, taking in her breasts, her nipples taught, begging to be teased. “Mm?” She grunts, slipping out of her sweats. “You still have those pictures?”

She grins at me, her smile gummy, but still arrogant. “No shit.” She tosses her boxers to the side, and I reach for her. She climbs back onto the bed, sliding her legs in between mine. I can see her cunt from the angle that I’m lying on the bed, positively glistening. “What-what do you do? With the pictures?” I ask, suddenly out of breath.

She edges her hands under my ass, pulling me closer, her pussy a tantalizing distance from mine.

“You really wanna know?”

“Please.”

She hums, and I don’t know how she isn’t giving in, isn’t rubbing herself against me the way my whole body aches for her to do. Instead, she takes my nipples in between her index finger and thumb, rolling the bud. I whine, bucking my hips. 

“I think about fucking you…”

Then, finally, finally, her clit brushes mine, and I clutch at the sheets. “Then I fuck myself,” she bites.

Then she’s grinding against me, pussy sliding against mine. The noises from our bottom halves are borderline pornographic, and I grip her waist tightly, pushing my cunt against hers. She’s slow and purposeful, each stroke, coaxing a moan out of me, sending shivers of pleasure through my body.

“I forgot… how fucking good you feel,” she groans, biting her lip as she stares down at me. I grab my tits, desperate for more, more, more.

“So fucking beautiful on top of me,” I moan, and she laughs raspily.

“You fuck me better,” she murmurs, and my brow furrows, teeth digging into my bottom lip as I watch her body move. “Mm?” I ask, and she starts going faster. 

“Than when I get myself off. This is… so much better, shit,” she whimpers, but the mere thought of her touching herself sends shocks to my core. Then she lowers her body so that our torsos are flush against each other. “Yes, faster,” I beg, bucking my hips against her. I can feel it; the pressure building in my stomach. “Paige,” I pant, tapping her waist.

“Yes, baby?” She asks, pulling back, her hips slowing. “No, keep- keep going, just… kiss me. Please.” I hate how small my voice sounds, but when she speeds up again, lips claiming mine with a smile, I can’t think of anything else.

I babble against her lips.

“Missed you, baby.”

“Missed this so bad.”

“Just want you, fuck.”

She grins at this. “Nobody else? Just want me to fuck you like this, ma?”

I nod in response, and I’m so close, so close-

“Fuck!” Tears itself from my throat as the string in my stomach snaps, my back arching against her. “Almost there, just- fuck. Oh, fuck, Maya!” Paige’s moan when she finishes is desperately scratchy. Her hips move against mine slowly as we both ease down from it. “Make me feel so good… everytime,” she pants, whispering the words into my mouth as she kisses me, her tongue chasing mine lazily.

She eases out from under me to straddle my waist, still kissing me slowly. “You got one more?” She asks. I shake my head. “Come on. Just one more for me, ma. I know you can,” she coos, kissing down my body. Her eyes meet mine as she takes a tit in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it as her hand toys with the other one. I whimper at the sight, biting my lip.

“Wanna make me so proud, don’t you?” She soothes, and that’s all it takes. I give in and nod.

She grins, flipping me over and pulling me flush against the chest as she stands at the edge of the bed, propping me up on my knees. “You wanna play with your tits while I fuck you, ma? Look so pretty for me?” I oblige quickly, hands flying to my chest.

Paige tuts in my ear. “Such a good girl for me,” she whispers, trailing her hands down my body as her lips latch to my neck. I moan at the sensation, the pleasure from my nipples prickling through me with the feeling of her lips on my skin. “Yes,” I sigh. “This is such a bad idea,” she murmurs. I nod stupidly, distracted by her fingers on my inner thigh.

“But you just make me so fucking weak,” Paige groans, and the sheer desire in my voice threatens to make my knees buckle. “The sight of you in that little skirt… I’m fucked, Maya.” I shudder out a sigh, nodding as her finger presses against my sensitive clit. “I know,” I whisper. “I mean, the second I see you,” she whispers, dipping two fingers into me. My head tips back all the way, resting in the crook of her neck. “I just wanna fuck you.”

“I know,” I whine, relishing in the feeling of her fingers sliding slowly in and out of me. 

“Still want you. Just you, ma.”

I bite my lips, sighing as her thumb circles my clit. “Just you, Paige.”

She presses another soft kiss to my neck. “Good,” she whispers.

Then she’s driving into me mercilessly, and I’m crying out, sagging against her body as she hits that spot over and over and over again. Her free arm wraps around my torso as she fucks me. “Take it so good. Take it so fucking good,” she mutters, and she sounds drunk. When I crane my neck to kiss her, her eyes are just about glazed over, hungry and desperate. “I’m gonna-” I whimper. “I know,” she whispers back, her free arm now at my jaw. “Just let go,” she coaxes. “Just come for me.”

And I do, her name scratching against my throat as I fuck down against her fingers, chasing the high, going boneless when it hits me. A cry escapes my lips, but Paige is there, talking me through it. I can’t even process what she’s saying - I just feel the weight of her breath against my ear, feel the shivers her gravelly tone sends through me.

Later that night, I lay against Paige's bare chest, inhaling her scent. Tears prick at my eyes. I hate myself. I hate her.

But I don’t. I love her so goddamn much, and the thought makes me want to cry. I stare out into the darkness of my room, wondering, like I always do, if we’ve well and truly fucked this up for good.

[nataliasquote]

Midas Touch [pt.2] | n romanoff

Summary: How is Y/n supposed to process the events of the last 24 hours when life wants to continue as normal? Her head is a total mess but the two people she is closest to are the ones most responsible. In a room full of people, she is the most alone

Warnings: bad coping mechanisms, shitty husband, cheating, mentions of an injury

Pairings: James Barnes x wife!reader, maid!Natasha Romanoff x mistress!reader

wc: 5k

Note: hello :) I am back! This is nowhere near as good as I want it to be but I need to get back into writing so I pushed myself to write this :) I hope you enjoy and thank you for all the love on the first part of ‘Midas Touch’

-⧗-

If Y/n Barnes was a master of one thing, it was pushing her feelings so far down they didn’t dare bob above the surface even just an inch. There was no tell-tale sign of what had happened the previous night…

… except for the dark bruise scattered nicely across her high cheekbone.

James didn’t return home that night so Y/n woke up to an empty bed. It wasn’t the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last, but the vast expanse of the egyptian cotton bed sheets encased her body like a glove, and pulling herself out would be an impossible task.

Natasha knocked on the door at 10am, her uniform ironed to a crisp perfection. Flashes of last night blurred through her mind but she cleared her thoughts with a deep breath and pushed the heavy door open after a suitable and swift knock. She headed straight to the long curtains that concealed the balcony doors and tugged them open to allow a small strip of light to dance across the oak floors.

“Good morning, Mrs Barnes,” she spoke gently, watching her mistress smooth her hands over her mussed up hair. The same soft hair she’d felt beneath her own fingertips in an entirely new way. “We have plenty of time, but I would like to remind you that you have your Vanity Fair photoshoot today.”

Y/n groaned and shuffled up to prop her torso up against the thick pillows, the strap of her nightdress falling down her shoulder slightly. “Did we not reschedule that?” She asked, large eyes following Natasha like a hawk.

“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” Natasha replied with a grimace. Y/n rolled her eyes, again, and blindly gestured for Natasha to bring her robe over. Whilst the spring days were getting warmer, mornings still carried a cooler breeze that felt rather harsh if you were dressed in nothing but a silk slip. “I can still call ahead and see-”

“There’s no need. It’s just a photoshoot, not the end of the world.” Y/n’s bleary eyes were still half closed as Natasha approached, rather hesitantly, with the feathered robe draped over one arm. She reprimanded herself to stay professional but as their eyes met, she couldn’t help but see the helpless expression that she saw in them only hours before, the same one she fell for without considering the repercussions. Natasha was sure Y/n could hear how loudly her heart was beating behind her blouse and she waited for a remark or look that would truly test her to the limit, yet nothing came.

Y/n accepted the robe with a tight lipped smile and moved into the bathroom without another word. Natasha couldn’t help but linger on the blue bruise in contrast with her pale skin, but she knew not to mention it. It was just another elephant in the room, which was turning into quite the zoo now.

Photoshoot preparation was fairly minimal as hair and makeup would be taken care of on set, so Natasha just focussed on preparing breakfast and briefing Y/n on everything she needed to know.

“- and I think that’s everything,” Natasha said, placing her pen down on the table. “Oh, um, well, there is one more thing, but…”

“Spit it out, Natasha, we really don’t have all day.” Y/n peered over the top of her large framed sunglasses with a raised brow, watching as the redhead cowered slightly under her gaze. “What is it?”

Natasha swallowed and started to fiddle with her nails under the table. Why was this so hard? “It’s just your… cheek, ma’am. Would you rather we covered it up here to avoid any suspicions, or we could create a cover story? Perhaps you were hit with a tennis ball-”

Y/n held up her index finger, effectively cutting Natasha off mid ramble. The stress was evident in her tone and it was slightly irritating to the young woman who had managed to distance herself from everything rather quickly. Sure, the ache on one side of her face was still there and served as a harsh reminder of what her life was, but she had a part to play, and nothing, not even Natasha, would get in the way of that.

“I don’t care,” Y/n stated bluntly, pushing her sunglasses up into her freshly washed hair. “You can do both, cover it up and make up a story.” Her tone was blasé and Natasha frowned, unsure of how to handle her next words. “It’s not a big deal, so please don’t turn it into one. And James cannot know that you know, okay, or he will fire you if he finds out.”

Her words were like a kick to the stomach and Natasha nodded swiftly before busying herself with collecting the breakfast tray. Despite being the one to end their kiss last night and cement to Y/n that it was wrong, there was still a part of her that clung on to their relationship being forever changed for the better and she yearned for that feeling they’d shared only hours previous. But Y/n cooler demeanour squashed all hope and she even wondered if it all had been a dream. If it wasn’t for the bruise, maybe she would have been convinced.

Natasha didn’t utter another word about it, instead immersing herself into preparations. Y/n was typing away on her phone on the drive over, so Natasha stole thirty minutes to continue with her book. But the words on the pages were simply just that, she couldn’t focus on more than a paragraph. She was hyper aware of the heeled foot bobbing out the corner of her eye where Y/n had one leg crossed over the other as she scrolled through her phone, and how if they were only a few inches closer it would be brushing against her calf. But Natasha shook her thoughts away as they pulled up to the studio and fetched the bags as Y/n’s publicist greeted them at the door.

Natasha was directed to the dressing room, the kind of place she was familiar with, and she laid out her things before hovering by the door. Her role during photoshoots was minimal, and quite frankly she didn’t need to be there, but Y/n always requested her presence as a sense of comfort and familiarity. Things got overwhelming quickly on set.

“Oh thank god, I thought you’d got lost,” Y/n breathed as she spotted Natasha by the soft couch, hands clasped over her lap. “I have a favour to ask.”

“Okay, what is it?”

Y/n peeked down the hallway before quickly closing the door, allowing them a moment of privacy before the chaos ensued. “Will you stay with me all day?” Her voice was quiet, like she was afraid to admit it. Natasha’s eyes softened and she nodded. “It’s just- I’ve never felt as safe with someone as I do with you, and after yesterday I-”

“It’s okay, I’ll be right here, and I’ll hover on set so I’m never far away. And I’ve already sent the message around so no one will ask about your cheek.” Y/n smiled gratefully, counting her blessings for how lucky she was to have Natasha in her life. She went above and beyond her duties and had the kindest heart, one that captured Y/n more than she cared to admit.

Their sweet moment was cut short as a knock on the door sounded, promptly followed by the entry of the glam team. Y/n was swooped away into hair and makeup, a simple yet versatile look that could be adapted to fit each outfit. Natasha watched like a hawk, scanning Y/n’s body language for any signs of discomfort. But her mistress was also a professional when it came to performing in public, so no outsider would ever know what was bubbling beneath the surface. She chatted and laughed with her stylists just like any other day, complimenting the soft waves in her hair and the shade of blush used on her cheeks.

The shoot itself harnessed the light and airy feel of summer, utilising bright colours and soft prints that complimented Y/n’s complexion perfectly. She’d worked with the photographer a few times before, with James too, so they worked naturally together, her features enhanced by his skill and her ease in which she posed.

The camera adored her. Which wasn’t surprising, Y/n really was gorgeous. Each outfit fitted her body like a glove and she gazed down the lens with such a sultry look that Natasha shifted in her seat a few times. She watched, mesmerised - this part of her job never got old.

Natasha had come crashing down overnight, the one small taste of her mistress that she’d managed to get had got her addicted and the way the redhead looked at her was far from professional, no matter how hard she tried.

And life wasn’t helping her case either. Not when Y/n came strutting out in her final outfit, a light blue silk dress with a dangerously low back and swooping neckline. She locked eyes with Natasha and winked as the make up artist added a final coat of lipstick before stepping back to allow the set to be empty. Y/n turned at an angle to the camera and looked back over her shoulder, eyes gazing off away from the lens… and straight to Natasha. Her soft eyeliner brought out the colours in her eyes in the most gorgeous way and they seemed to sparkle in the studio lights as she turned and posed, all whilst looking directly at her maid.

Anyone looking at the meek redhead in the corner would just see a maid on duty. No one would be able to see the way her eyes followed where Y/n’s hands went, knowing she’d held them in hers only hours before. Nor would they see how she stared at her slightly parted lips whilst remembering the way they felt on her own. How gentle and delicate they felt, a wild contrast to her captivating and consuming presence that made everyone on set stop and stare. Y/n had finally trusted someone to see her vulnerable and Natasha treasured it like a precious stone, keeping it near and dear to her heart.

The day wrapped after a few hours and Y/n changed straight into a bikini before heading down to the pool, her hair loose and still curled from the shoot. The water was always her preferred way of unwinding and Natasha gave her some space to be alone for a while, something that rarely happened in her hectic life.

The house was peaceful as the afternoon sun warmed the patio where Y/n resided, her legs dangling into the crystal pool water below. Her large sunglasses stopped the glare from blinding her and she moved her feet slowly, following the ripples that she created. There was nothing to be heard but the birds in the trees and the occasional clink of crockery as the chefs prepared a light dinner. Natasha stayed back, her chair placed in the shade to save her delicately pale skin from the harsh sun rays. She didn’t tan like Y/n did, and looking like a lobster was not on her to do list for the week.

But her seat still gave her an amazing view and as Y/n stood up to refill her glass, Natasha took the time to admire her toned body and how it glistened from the tanning oil. Every piece of exposed skin looked smooth and she knew it would feel just as soft under her fingertips.

Her attentive ears picked up the sound of heavy footsteps across the marble floors and Natasha sat up a little straighter as James appeared in the doorway. He was focused on the woman by the pool, her damp hair sticking to her exposed back as it dried in the heat. With four strides he was at the pool edge, saying something that made Y/n climb to her feet.

Natasha was used to their PDA, but this one felt wrong to watch. The second their lips touched, she brought her book closer, trying to distract herself. But the more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t keep looking away. She saw how James’ hand instantly found the curve of Y/n’s lower back and pressed her body into him as he held the back of her head to kiss her. Natasha saw Y/n almost melted into his touch and she cursed how natural they looked. Was everything okay with them? Had Y/n really pushed her pain that far down that she could forgive her husband in two seconds? Or was this all just an act that the couple had perfected over time because this had been happening a lot longer than Natasha knew. She dreaded to consider the latter but the sinking feeling in her stomach wouldn’t let it go.

At the poolside, Y/n finally pulled away from James, her lips slightly numb. “Where were you?” she muttered quietly, not fully looking him in the eye as he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Work, doll, you know how hectic it gets sometimes.” There was something off about him, but Y/n was too exhausted to pry so she let her eyes fall to the exposed chain resting on his chest thanks to the buttons undone on his shirt. “Have you been good today?”

“Had a photoshoot,” Y/n replied, and James tensed, gripping her waist firmer as he waited for her next words. “The one for Vanity Fair’s cover next month.”

James grunted in response and dragged his hand up his wife’s body, raking in her figure in her small black bikini. Natasha watched over the top of her book, perplexed. No one could see how uncomfortable Y/n was as James’ hand gripped the back of her neck and guided her inside, her facade was good, but she prayed it would be obvious as they passed the redhead who could only pretend she didn’t see them. Y/n desperately tried to make eye contact with her maid but Natasha ignored her, sending a shudder down her spine as James’ grip hardened.

“Why are you so quiet today? Cat got your tongue?” James asked once the bedroom door was closed and the couple were finally alone. Y/n lingered by the bed as he discarded his button down shirt in exchange for a lighter and more simple one. “I asked you a question, Y/n.”

“I’m just tired from the shoot,” she replied, eyes flitting over his muscular back. “And the constant dodging of questions.” Y/n saw the way he froze, still with his back turned, and the confidence that had blossomed in her chest for a moment was snuffed out.

“Excuse me?”

Her chest heaved as her breathing sped up but she stood her ground, using the mattress behind her knees for support. “It’s hard to lie through my teeth when people are asking about the bruise on my face and I can’t tell them it was my husband. Photoshop is really going to save you-”

“What did you tell them?” James demanded as he stormed over, towering over her as he gripped her upper arm. “Did you dare?”

“I told them it was a tennis ball.” Relief flooded James’ face and he let her go, creating space between them. Y/n saw the way he looked at her cheek that was still covered with makeup. “Didn’t want to risk getting another one if you found out I’d told the truth.” The words were out before she could stop them and Y/n braced herself for the impact, expecting the inevitable.

But it didn’t come.

A hand touched her cheek, making her flinch, before it slid down to her waist and James knelt before her, his head resting on her bare stomach. His sudden change was unnerving and Y/n didn’t know what to do. He was leaning against her like a child, apologising and mumbling like a madman, and part of her wanted to push him away, but it would be a step too far. She just stood and listened to his apologies, once again blaming his work for making him aggressive and swearing that he’d never lay a hand on her again.

Part of her believed him, the naive part, but as she screwed her eyes shut, all she saw was Natasha. How gentle her touch was, something James could never do. He was always rough, no matter what, his hands calloused from years of fighting. The way Natasha’s palm felt against her burning cheeks would never be matched by anyone else and no matter how hard Y/n tried to imagine that the hands that were running across her back now belonged to her maid, she knew what Natasha’s touch was like and she couldn’t pretend anymore.

The moment the kisses started across her lower stomach, Y/n pushed James’ head away and sat down on the soft duvet, taking his hand in hers.

“It’s okay, I forgive you.”

Lies.

But for the sake of her life and safety, it was all she could say.

James was no knight in shining armour, despite his skillset. No, her true saviour knocked on the door in that moment, knocking the air out of her lungs as she breathed a sigh of relief. Natasha knew not to enter unless ordered, so Y/n scurried to the door and visibly softened at the sight of the redhead who’s cheeks were slightly flushed.

Right, Y/n was still in her bikini.

“I’m just here to say that dinner is ready and on the patio when you both are available,” she announced, smiling politely at James who had joined his wife at the door, his hand sliding around her waist possessively. “Chef prepared those oysters you requested, Mr Barnes.”

“Thank you, Natasha, Y/n and I will be right there.” The redhead didn’t linger, instead disappearing back down the stairs in a hurry.

“I’m just going to get changed, I’ll meet you down there,” Y/n said, wriggling out of his hold as soon as she could. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Don’t be too long, doll. I’ve missed you.”

He certainly had an odd way of showing that, considering he had disappeared for over twelve hours with not a word. But, once again, Y/n pushed that out of her mind and slipped on a simple white cover-up that was modest enough for dinner and padded downstairs to the patio where James had already tucked into his food. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a kiss, more of a display to the staff around them than anything else.

Seafood was never Y/n’s preference, so once she was sat across the table, her fork picked at parts of the salad, occasionally stomaching an oyster that James pushed her way. He glanced at her plate with a frown

“Are you on a new diet?”

Y/n almost dropped her fork and quickly fumbled to catch it before it clattered to the floor. “No,” she replied, mortified. “Should I be?”

James just shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he took a swig of his drink. His tanned chest was exposed and he revelled in the feeling of the sun on his skin, something he missed working in an office all day.

“That’s not up to me. I just want you to look good.” His vague response left a sour taste in Y/n mouth and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably, subtly adjusting the way the cover-up sat around her stomach.

“Then why did you ask?” Her mind cast back to the earlier photoshoot and the tight fitting clothes she’d squeezed into per the stylist’s request. Did they all think she needed to be on a diet too?

“You’re so sensitive,” James replied, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “It was just a question, just eat your food, doll. Or don’t, I don’t care.” Y/n looked down at her dish and pushed a cherry tomato around before eventually dropping her fork to the side with a clink. Despite how fresh her salad tasted, James’ words sank to her stomach like a stone and she felt disgusted at the thought. “What are you doing on Friday night?”

“I don’t think I’ve got anything planned, but I’ll need to check with Natasha-”

“You’re coming to the charity ball with me.” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand, and Y/n just nodded. “Rogers said it’s non-negotiable and you know how much I love having you on my arm. Rumlow will be there too, which is a bonus.” Y/n’s stomach lurched at the thought of seeing that man again. He was far too handsy for her liking and had zero respect for women, especially her. “It’ll give me another chance to show you off and put that asshole in his place.”

“James, you know I don’t feel comfortable around him-”

“I know, doll. But you’ve got me to protect you,” he countered, subtly flexing his arm that was placed behind his head.

But his words didn’t fill her with much hope. She hated feeling so helpless, but being surrounded by the men that James was associated with through work was like being surrounded by bears in a forest. How could she rely on her husband to keep her safe when he was now part of the reason why her hands shook? His slap had knocked her confidence away just like it did her breath, and the determination and independence she’d felt a few days ago was now nowhere to be seen. And she hated it.

“May I be excused?” Y/n asked, already feeling restless in her seat. James nodded and muttered something about a call, but she was already out of earshot by the time he’d finished.

Her legs didn't carry her up to her room like she expected. Instead, she found herself down the least familiar hallway, stopping outside a door she’d only knocked on once before.

A faint rustling was heard before the door flew open and Natasha’s face morphed from surprise to confusion at the sight of her mistress in the staff quarters.

“Can I come in? Please?” Neither Y/n or James ever ventured into the staff quarters, nevermind the rooms, but Natasha stepped aside and allowed her to enter, excusing how bare her room was.

“Is everything okay? You could have called for me.”

Y/n shook her head as she admired the neatness of Natasha’s living quarters. Her surfaces were dust free and bed made to perfection. “I don't know, I just wanted to get away from everything. And you’re the only person I could think of.”

Natasha frowned, her brows creasing as she watched her mistress peering out of the window at the gardens below. Y/n sensed her close presence and turned to face her, scanning her face and more importantly her eyes. A gentle hand raised to smooth the lines between the redhead’s brows upon instinct before Natasha stepped away, effectively placing a blockage between them.

“We should go somewhere else, Y/n, you shouldn’t be here.” It all felt wrong yet right and Natasha was so conscious of someone walking in on them. “Come, we can sit on the balcony.”

Y/n shook her head desperately. “No, James is out there on a call and I can’t face him right now. I don’t want to feel like I’m being watched anymore but there’s nowhere else I can go except to you and I shouldn’t, but you don’t understand, I can’t-”

“Y/n, breathe, it’s okay, I won’t make you go anywhere. What happened?”

“It’s pathetic,” she replied, adjusting the neckline of her coverup. “I’m just being ridiculous and sensitive, just like he said.”

“James?” Natasha probed, wishing she had been out on the patio to hear the conversation that had clearly shaken her mistress. “What did he say?”

“He just said something about a diet and I overreacted and asked if I should be on one and he got mad and I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.”

“He said you should be on a diet?” Natasha repeated in disbelief. That was another score for the James Barnes hate chart, and if he didn’t pay her wages she’d have acted on her impulses a long time ago. They never quite saw eye to eye.

Y/n winced, feeling guilty for making the situation seem worse. A messy mind led to messy conversations and she just wanted to stop. “No, he-”

“So he said he doesn’t want you on one?”

“Well, not exactly, but that's all I can think about now. He wants me to look good, I’m his wife for god’s sake, I have to.” Her voice cracked and Y/n turned away from Natasha, moving back towards the door as doubt began to set in. “But what if I’m not enough, or perfect enough for him anymore? ”

Natasha had to fight to stop herself from speaking the words on her mind and she bit her lip. “No, Y/n, you are beautiful just the way you are. You don’t need a diet or anything like that,” she spoke softly. The other woman didn’t look convinced, so Natasha carefully stood up and opened her closet door to reveal a small mirror about ¾ of a full length. “Here, let me show you something.”

“Natasha, I can’t-”

“Y/n, please…” she trailed off, holding out her hand patiently. She wasn’t about to force her to do anything, Natasha could see the cogs whirring in her busy mind and knew what she was fighting. Half of her wanted to go and find James and kick him in the balls, just like she wanted to last night, but she was here for Y/n. Not him.

“I shouldn’t even be here, this was stupid-”

“No,” Natasha interrupted, stopping Y/n in her tracks. “What’s stupid is James making you feel as worthless as you do. Why do you listen to him?” Y/n avoided her gaze, choosing instead to twist her wedding ring around her finger, it suddenly feeling heavier than usual. “Do you not see how beautiful you are? How you give your heart out to anyone who needs it without caring what state it is in when you get it back? Do you not see that you are so much more than just his wife?” Natasha’s words were true, but they fell upon deaf ears and Y/n shook her head, reaching for the doorknob whilst trying to hide her trembling hands.

“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, not giving Natasha a chance to stop her before slipping back out into the hallway where she came from.

Natasha watched the door close dejectedly, her heart sinking. “Do you not see how much I love you?”

Y/n sped down the hallway with glassy eyes, her head more clouded than ever. She had so many questions, but who was she to ask when the two closest to her were the ones completely messing with her head, tugging it in opposite directions until the rope threatened to snap. She barely registered travelling back upstairs until she reached the bedroom door and threw it open without a care. James’ head turned at the noise and he spoke down the phone before hanging up and followed Y/n into her dressing room.

Y/n was completely lost with her thoughts when she felt his hands on her and barely reacted to his touch. His lips trailed up her neck to her ear and she tilted her head back purely on instinct. She felt too numb for this, but let him continue because she was his wife and that was her job. Nothing sparked her brain when he pulled her coverup off or when he picked her up and placed her on the dresser in the middle of the room. It was all muscle memory and he was too focused to notice her lack of enthusiasm.

How could so much change in twenty four hours? She lived an amazing life, incredibly privileged, so why wasn’t she happy? Couples fight all the time, her husband was an aggressive man, but a single slap didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. She’d get over it and maybe James would go back to being the loving husband he was before.

But even now, as his calloused hands pulled off her bikini top and pressed his lips to her soft skin, she doubted that her life would ever go back to the way it was. Not now that she had Natasha.

Yet that was nothing more than a fruitless desire. Because, despite her comebacks and displays of confidence towards her husband, he was more powerful than she would ever be and had the ability to ruin her life if she went against his wishes.

Was it worth it? Y/n really wasn’t sure. She would never be certain.

[marvelsmylife]

Second Choice part 3

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: After confirming your pregnancy you come face to face with your mate to break the news.

A/n I apologize in advance. Things are going to get sticky in the next part. Expect a lot of jealousy and feeling insecure.

Second Choice Masterlist

Two weeks have passed since you visited the spring court, and since you got confirmation that you were indeed pregnant. You were in denial at first, but as soon as Madja took your hands into hers and repeated that you were pregnant, you started to cry.

“If you are worried about giving birth, you do not need to worry anymore,” Madja tried to reassure you that you were going to be ok. That Nesta actually changed your anatomy along with hers and Feyre's after Feyre’s first pregnancy so you would have a safe birth.

“It’s not that,” you replied, “I’m so furious with Azriel right now. The last thing I want right now is to have his baby, but I also can’t bring myself to terminate this pregnancy.”

Madja gave you a sympathetic smile before standing up and hugging you, “It's going to be ok, and don’t worry, I won’t say a word to your mate, but I do suggest you talk to someone about this. If you do not wish to keep the child, maybe you could give it up for adoption. I know a few couples who would love a child.”

You pondered Madja’s offer for several days before realizing you couldn’t give up your child. Yes, it bothered you that Azriel was the father, but at the same time, you couldn’t give the baby up because you’ll always have the guilt of giving them up. Because of that, you decided to move back to your old home in Day Court for the duration of your pregnancy.

After discussing the situation with Rhysand and Feyre, they agreed to let you move for the duration. “You know you have to tell him before you leave tomorrow,” Rhysand reminded you again that you still have to tell Azriel you were pregnant with his child and that you were moving, “You might still be mad at him, but he’s your mate and the father of your child.”

“I know,” you replied, “I just know he’s going to lose it when he finds out and do everything in his power to stop the move,” and you were right.

You called Azriel to the cabin the following day after all of your belongings were taken to the day court. You didn’t know how to break the news to Azriel, so you just blurted it out. Azriel felt his throat become dry at your words, “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” you replied while rubbing your tiny baby bump.

Azriel rushed to you and dropped to his knees, “I’m going to be a dad. We’re going to be a family.” Azriel placed a kiss on your stomach and tried to wrap his arms around your body, but you had to back away before he had the chance.

“Just because we’re having a baby together doesn’t mean I’m moving back. In fact, I’ve decided to go home to the day court for the duration of my pregnancy. I need to be with family and-“

“You can’t go. As your mate, I’m prohibiting you from going,” Azriel responded, “I’m the child's father, and I want to be by your side the entire time.”

At that moment, Rhysand decided to step in and intervene before things got worse, “Actually, she has every right to do this. I’ve already talked with Helion, and he’s offered her a room for her at his palace. He said that because you are the father, you are welcome to visit, but he will ban you if you cross any boundaries or make y/n uncomfortable.”

Azriel felt like his world was crumbling around him as he realized you were leaving him. “Please don’t do this y/n. Please don’t leave me,” Azriel begged.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this. Don’t make it harder than it already is,” you responded firmly.

Your words cut Azriel deep, “Let me kiss you one last time. Please,” Azriel begged again.

You looked over at Rhysand, who gave you a knowing look. “Ok,” you whispered before you felt Azriel’s lips against yours. There was nothing but passion in the kiss you shared, and made you almost change your mind about your decision to move. Almost.

“Goodbye Azriel,” you kissed Azriel’s hands before you walked away with Rhysand.

The second you arrived at the day court, Helion embraced you, “It’s so good to have you back home y/n. We’ve missed you here.”

“I missed you guys too,” you smiled at Helion before you looked over at Rhysand who was picking a piece of lint from his jacket, “Are you going to stay awhile or-"

“No,” Rhysand replied, “I have to head back, but please enjoy yourself while you're here. But do let us know if you need anything.”

You were about to thank him for everything he had done for you when Helion interrupted, “Come now. I will have my staff set up a nursery for your child. In the meantime, I’ll show you to your room,” Helion kissed your forehead before putting his arm around you and taking you to your new room.

Rhysand didn’t miss how possessively Helion was holding onto you and wondered if you staying at the day court was a mistake.

@lilah-asteria @lees-chaotic-brain @sleepylunarwolf @iluvyewman-blog

[kika-writes]

wingman - l.n

Warnings: funny funny haha I’m deunk

Pairing: Lando Norris x piastri!fem!reader

Summary: Oscar helps Y/N hook up with someone after she’s been single for ages

A/N - I see a lot of fics about like Oscar/Lando being, like, ‘I don’t want you to date him’ but this is kinda around my brother, he’d get protective but he’d, like, support me ig? Just an idea lmao

“Hi Oscar,” you said, jumping from one foot to the other as he raised an eyebrow. “Who’d you kill?” he said sarcastically as you scoffed. “No one! You’re always so mean,” you crossed your arms. “Sorry, force of habit, what’s up?” he asked, still scrolling through his phone. “Need to tell you something,” you muttered. “Ah, so you did kill someone?” he said, stifling a laugh. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help myself!” your brother snorted as he saw your face. “I, uh, I may like someone?” you said, cheeks flushed red as Oscar hummed. 

“Oh yeah? Do I know him?” he asked, putting his phone down. “You could say that, yeah,” you shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the massage board as he looked up from his be. “How long?” he asked, the usual questions he asked when you liked someone new. “Like, I dunno, a few weeks,” you replied, you didn’t measure how long your crush spanned. “Who is it?” he opened his phone, ready to check if he had them in his contacts. “I…uh, Lando,” you said quietly, voice high with unease as he dropped his phone. “Lando?!” he hissed, knowing that the other driver was in the room besides his. 

You nodded, confirming his hearing wasn’t malformed as his eyes widened. “Like, that Lando?” he gestured vaguely at the wall, as you gave the same confirmation. “Damn,” he acknowledged slowly, “this is gonna take a special type of brother wing-manning,”. You could always rely on your brother to help you out with anything, even if it was getting with his teammate. You and Lando had a pretty strong relationship - you had each other’s numbers, you spoke every time you saw each other, you hung out with each other in your free time, you had hour long calls almost every night. Now you just needed to build on it. 

“Hi Lando,” Oscar said pointedly, walking towards the Brit as he looked up grinning at Oscar. “Me and some of the drivers are planning on getting lunch at this little place near the pier,” your brother said coolly, “you interested?”. Lando nodded, more than happy to go, but little did he know, the driver’s had a plan for the pair of you. George had asked you the same question and you’d all arranged to go to a restaurant on ghetto 16th floor of skyscraper hotel. Oscar’d plan was simple. Time each of your entrances to the elevator perfectly and then do a little snippy snippy on the wire. Easy. 

“Hey Y/N,” a voice said behind you as you waited for the elevator, nervously adjusting your short, black dress. “Lando, hi,” you stepped into the open empty box as Lando followed. “You going for the dinner?” you asked, trying to prompt conversation. “Yes, I’m -fuck!” Lando gasped, the lights of the elevator immediately flickering as the box shook violently.

“Lando!” you shrieked, almost like a normal reaction, your body fall into his as the box tilted to one side suddenly. “Hey, you alright?” he asked, struggling to find his phone. “Y-yeah, it’s dark,” you gulped, your hands scrunching into his shirt as held your body close to his. “You good?” he said, eyes roving your face for any signs of fright. “Yeah, just shocked,” you said, “Lando, I don’t like the dark,”.

“My phones dead,” he groaned, you’d forgotten yours. “Lando,” you shook his hand lightly as he pulled you closer. “Cold?” he asked, feeling your shivering body against him. “Yeah,” you hummed, hands on his as you struggled for balance. You heard him shuffle, sliding down so he was sitting, before taking your body into his. “Sit,” he said, as you rested your head onto his shoulder.

A/N - idk how to end it.

[morgluvsconnie]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐚, 𝐜.𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

highschool AU , some language , fluff(?) , connie being crazy over you , not proofread , very short !

“connie springer, will you please pay attention to my teaching and not y/n l/n?” the teacher raised her eyebrows with a shallow smirk.

“man.” connie mumbled, moving his attention away from you and to the ceiling as he slumped in his desk. the class laughed at the teachers joke, which wasn’t really a joke, because it always happened.

“you crazy as hell if you really think that girl want you.” ony mumbled to connie from beside him. “she don’t want nobody but me.” connie pat his chest with a scoff.

the bell rings.

you packed your things wit your over the head headphones playing “at your best” by aaliyah. your threw your backpack over your shoulder, getting ready to leave with your girlfriends, but you heard a faint voice call your name as soon as you made it to the door.

“girl, connie want you.” one of your friends giggled. “have fun.” she winked with a smile. you didn’t even have time to stop her before connie fully made his way to you.

this was the fourth time in two weeks this boy has been in your face.

“connie.” you raised your eyebrows and kept walking, slow enough so that he could catch up. “so whatchu doin this weekend? since it’s friday and shit.” he tucked his lips into a smile.

“same thing i said last week. i gotta study.” you paused your music and stopped, leaning on a locker. “now what you want? for real.”

“oh my- i want you.” he smacked his lips and looked down at you.

you stared up at him for a few seconds before smiling into a small laugh. “you’re so funny, connie.” you pat his shoulders, starting to walk off again.

he let out a deep sigh. “you gotta at least go out to eat with me or something.” he pursed his lips together. you looked up at him with your eyebrows raised. “and what do i get out of that?”

“uh, me. and a relationship you won’t forget.” he rested his arm over your shoulder while leaning over at you. “so…”

“you’re just like any other boy.” you looked at his hand.

“what other boy has ever begged you for like… since… middle school, to go out with him?”

you thought about it for a second. nobody.

“exactly. so you can just take ya chance with me.”

you sighed. “you ain’t just doing this to brag about going out to eat with me?”

“i’m doin it cause you pretty… and i like you.” connie shrugged.

you smiled at his compliment. little did you know, he actually meant it. “i’ll… text you. and remind me when it is.” you pat his chest with a smile. “bye connie.”

connie stood there for a few seconds, staring at you as you walked off. “byeee.” he said under his breath with a cheesy smile.

ony smacked his lips, coming up behind connie and leaning his arm on his shoulder. “nigga you ain’t no pimp.”

“ion plan on pimpin’ that girl.” connie bit his lip with a grin.

i know this is a little trash, i’m tryna refrain myself from making a story.😢

[peachhcs]

going to worlds

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

with worlds coming up, tensions get high in the hughes’ household between luke and samy.

2k words

so this is actually more samy x luke more than samy x will but here’s the sibling angst i mentioned a few days ago! i feel like we don’t see a lot of samy’s relationship with her brothers so i wanna try and write that more but i will be writing more about worlds between will and samy as it plays out! :))

au masterlist

“no, absolutely not,” luke immediately shook his head as he walked out of the kitchen. samy was hot on his tail as she followed him into the living room, watching as he plopped himself onto the couch, remote in hand. 

“why not? it’s not like i’m gonna be bothering you,” the younger hughes argued, hanging herself over the couch so she was right in her brother’s face. 

the boy pushed her away, “but it will be a bother when i have to look after you the entire month there. i’m not doing that shit. i’m not gonna be some babysitter at my own hockey tournament,” luke was being harsh which samy sort of expected, but not this bad.

“i’m 19 years old. you don’t need to look after me,” the girl fired back. 

“that’s not what mom and dad will say. plus, i kind of do because we’re in a fucking foreign country and i’m not that stupid to let you wander around czechia by yourself,” luke shot back even harder. a frustrated groan escaped samy’s lips. this brother was supposed to be easier than her other two. 

“i won’t be by myself. plus, i went to sweden and mom and dad were fine,” samy mumbled sheepishly. 

“what do you think you’re gonna do when we’re at practice almost the whole day? sit in the hotel? that’s gonna get boring real quick,” the curly-brunette shook his head, already very over the conversation and disregarding what his sister said.

“you’re being such a brat. i’m not 12 years old anymore, luke. i can take care of myself, you know. you’re not even 21 yet so right now it’s a one year age difference.” 

“why do you even wanna go? don’t you have your own shit to do instead of follow me to czechia,” the middle hughes rolled his eyes. although, his words hit a nerve. 

samy drew back off the couch, a frown settling onto her lips. sure, her and luke had their fair share of fights and arguments, but for some reason, his words hurt even more than any of those combined. 

“jesus, when did you turn into such an asshole?” now her words hit luke’s nerve this time. the older boy whipped around so hard samy swore he gave himself whiplash. his lips were set in a straight line along with his eyebrows pinched together. 

“who are you calling an asshole right now? you’re the one who needs to grow up right now,” the boy shot back quite harshly. 

“so me going to every single one of your ntdp games, home games at umich mean nothing to you? you just think i’m following you around?” the girl frowned, her hurt showing more than she anticipated as her voice wavered. 

“i- i..that’s not what i meant, sam. i just..it’s gonna be a bother and you just wanna go to make out with your boyfriend anyway,” luke defended himself, but his words didn’t sound any better than before. 

those words hurt samy a lot more than a few minutes ago. luke never called her sam ever. the siblings stared at one another, the silence engulfing them while luke awaited a response. “so that’s what you think? you’ve just forgotten that will’s still my best friend and i’ve been supporting him since we were kids along with you? you just think i wanna go to be some bother to you and have sex with my boyfriend?” samy’s voice finally rose to the point where they both knew she was angry. 

“i mean..am i wrong?” the wrong responses kept falling from the middle hughes’ mouth. 

“yes! you are wrong, luke! haven’t you and will always wanted to play on the same team together since we were kids but never could because you weren’t ever in the same age group? and now that it’s finally happening, i can’t go and support my brother and best friend who are playing for the same team because all you think is that i’m going to have sex with him all the time and be some fucking bother. i only asked you because i knew mom and dad would only let me go if you said yes and i thought you would because you’d want your sister there cheering you on like i have been for your entire life. maybe this whole fame thing really did get to your head,” samy stormed off before luke could even respond. her heavy footsteps carried all the way up the stairs until the boy heard her bedroom door slam shut. 

“woah, someone’s mad..” jack came out from the downstairs bedroom. his hair looked absolutely insane like he’d just woken up despite it being 2 in the afternoon. 

“i don’t know what’s up with her,” luke rolled his eyes, settling back into the couch like nothing happened. 

“she’s got a point, you know. you were kind of being an asshole,” jack shrugged as he wandered into the kitchen. 

“oh come on, not you too. if she goes, i’m just gonna have to look after her!” luke exclaimed, head falling back onto the couch in frustration. 

“she’s not some kid anymore, moosey. she’s 19. you’re not even 21. she can handle herself. she did in sweden,”  jack stuck up for their little sister. 

“that was different because everyone was there already. this isn’t the sam, jack. mom and dad will put me on babysitter duty because they aren’t there,” the younger brother continued his defense. 

“i don’t think it would be babysitting. more like making sure she’s okay. checking in? plus, i doubt she’ll even be in the hotel room that much anyway. she’ll wanna hang with smitty and leno,” jack started making himself a sandwich with the little ingredients in the fridge. apparently, ellen and jim hardly grocery shopped when they didn’t have four kids in one house anymore. 

“yeah and then that will lead to them having sex and then that becomes a whole thing,” luke rambled on. 

“is this really about not wanting samy there or is it about you thinking she’s taking away your moment if she’s there?” the older hughes brother proposed a new idea. he always saw through to his siblings hidden emotions they were trying to conceal. a beat of silence passed between the brothers and jack took the silence as his answer. he stopped making his sandwich for a moment to find a seat on the couch beside his brother. luke’s gaze stuck to the ground. 

“come on, rusty. talk to me,” jack nudged his brother’s knee. 

“it just feels like i never get to hang out with will because samy’s always there. or..he chooses her instead of hanging with us nowadays. being able to play on team usa together has been our dream since we were kids. i love that samy’s happy and so is will..i just..i really hoped this could be a just us thing. i don’t know. sounds selfish, i know,” the younger boy mumbled almost ashamed. 

“it’s not selfish, lukey. i get it. i’m still getting used to their whole dating thing too here and there. it is weird seeing one of your close friends date your sister,” jack sympathized. “i’m sure if you talked to samy she’ll understand. she’s always been your #1 supporter, luke. i know she’s not trying to come with you to wedge her way in between you guys. maybe set some boundaries?” 

“maybe i just feel so disconnected because i went to college and then was hardly ever around. feels like i don’t even know her sometimes anymore or will, you know? he used to be attached to our hips as kids and now..it’s just..not the same,” the curly-haired boy’s voiced faded off. a frown appeared on jack’s lips, rubbing his brother’s arm in a soothing manner. 

“talk to her, lukey. this can be your chance to reconnect with both of them the month you’re there,” the older boy encouraged. 

luke finally took to his words, agreeing as he got up and shuffled upstairs to hopefully reconcile. samy’s room sounded quiet the closer he got, so he gently knocked on the door.

“go away,” he heard lowly.

“please? just wanna talk,” luke mumbled from outside. 

a beat of silence passed until there was a small click and his sister’s gaze appeared through the crack, “about what?” 

“me being an asshole,” the older boy admitted in defeat that she was right earlier. the door opened wider, an indication that he could go in. 

luke’s gaze flicked around the room that he really hadn’t seen in..years almost. it was so similar, yet it felt so different in his eyes. so much time seemed to pass in samy’s room.

“you have five minutes to give me a good explanation,” the girl crossed her arms, snapping her brother back into reality. 

the guilt crept across luke’s face as he struggled on where to start. he was never the one to admit his feeling outright like this. “first, i’m sorry. i was an asshole about the whole thing,” he began.

“yeah, you kind of were. that really hurt, luke,” samy said seriously and the boy sighed. 

“i know..i don’t know why—i think i just…” he stumbled over his words and everything he just admitted to jack downstairs. “feels like i don’t really know you anymore just because i’ve been away and i hate that. we used to be so close and now it feels like we just don’t talk..same with will. i dunno. i guess i just didn’t want you there because i was being selfish and just wanted will and i there together. i realize now that you deserve to be there too to support us,” the boy continued in a long ramble that probably made no sense. 

he watched samy’s expression soften up a little, “you think we aren’t close anymore?” 

“i mean..not as close as we used to be. college and everything else seems to have made us drift..same with jack. same with quinn.”

yes, the hughes siblings were close, but not nearly as close when they all lived under one roof. one by one as each brother left, their bond slowly dissipated. texts became littler and littler. the time changes weren’t easy to work around sometimes. 

in some ways, samy saw where luke came from because quinn and jack missed a lot of big milestones in samy’s life yet she was there for all of theirs. 

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t know you felt that way,” the girl frowned. 

“no, no, it’s not your fault. i just..have been feeling weird lately. i think having you there will be really fun. maybe it can even make up for some of the time we’ve lost,” luke offered a smile. 

“no, i don’t have to go. you’re right. it’s a you and will thing. something you’ve been waiting for since you were kids,” the girl shook her head.

“no, no, i want you there. i promise. plus, i think smitty would actually fight me if he knew i wasn’t letting you come. i’m serious. we can catch up. have fun in czechia together. i’m sure mom and dad would love our sibling bonding,” the two shared a laugh. 

“are you sure?” 

“positive. i’ve missed hanging around you,” luke opened his arms for a hug. the youngest hughes stepped into his arms and they shared a tight hug in what felt like forever. 

“we’re gonna have so much fun there. i already have an intinerary planned for your off days,” the girl grinned widely when the two pulled away. 

a laugh escaped luke’s lips, “of course you do. we’ll talk to mom and dad tonight, yeah?” 

samy nodded and she let her brother squeeze her shoulders one last time before leaving her alone for now. she excitedly called will next to let him know the good news that they’d be able to spend the next few weeks together. 

[pinkishpearls]

Sub jude phone sex. that’s it. 😖 thats request.

run my mouth.

a jude bellingham fic.

thank you so so much for 200 followers!! 🤍

requested by @robins-scoop

sub!jude x dom!reader / phone sex / masturbation

unfortunately, you couldn’t be with jude in madrid seeming as you’d had to run errands constantly back in england. so for the time being, you were continuously on your phone texting and calling him. it broke your heart not having your number one supporter by your side, but for now, you’d have to get used to it.

it also wasn’t the best for those times where you got sexually frustrated, seeming as he was all the way in madrid and your hands didn’t always give you the best pleasure. but today you were doing fine, running errands as per usual and doing your work to waste the torturing time of not having jude with you. you were almost getting used to not having him here, and you hoped that was the same for him too.

until, you got a ping on your phone; jude was calling you. a sheepish grin painted across your face knowing that he was safe and was now free to call you; his attention now fully directed towards you. with excitement, you almost immediately drop your belongings and turn your full attention to him. “hey jude!” you cheered as you accept the call, clearing your throat before your ears caught onto the melody of grunts and groans. “need- y-you here!” he shakily breathes, his voice low and whiny. the same tone he develops when he fucks you, or you fuck him.

“jude?” you try to hide the devilish grin from appearing on your face, but fail miserably as an elongated moan falls past his lips. “what are you doing, jude?” you coyly inquire, “don’t make me- say i-it.” he demands. “i asked you a question, jude.” you remind him, your voice low and raspy, you dominated him even over the phone. “i’m t-touching.” he cuts himself off, the slick strokes of his dick interrupting the call. “touching?” you question, “m-myself.” he breathes out, his pre-cum swirling around his fingers as he glides himself across his shaft.

“to my voice? over the phone?”

“y-yes. your made me- nervous. that fucking instagram post- fuck.” he whines, pre-cum leaking down his tip as it runs down his hand, running like water going down car windows. his moans progressively get louder, his actions now erratic and sloppy. “jude are you- are you home alone?” you start to worry, seeming as jude couldn’t keep his mouth shut as soon as he found pleasure. “n-no just a few guests i barely know are- are over.” he informs like it’s nothing, swiping his leaking, angry tip which made his back arch up, almost like a bridge. “jude!” you jolt up in your seat, “jude, stop! they’re gonna listen to you!”

“i-i don’t care. i hope you hear me moan for you.”

your cheeks flush hot immediately after he moans out how he doesn’t care anymore, especially his hard on who doesn’t give a fuck as now it was being fucked up vigorously into his hand. the slick sounds fill the air, making it almost hard to hear the slutty, lewd whimpers that fall past jude’s wet, plump lips. “you have to stop.” you sigh, terrified that he’ll get caught committing absolute profanities seeming as he was only a staircase away from the guests.

“you need to stop, your being so lo-“

“fuck, i can’t!” he whinges, the bed creaks as his hips buck continuously into his curled up hand. “mm- yes!”

“jude, this is so, so wrong.”

“say it again.” he demands, his voice shaky as his back grows tired, his spine begs for himself to cum. “say what?” you inquire, the same smirk now emerging at your lips as jude’s mindset had now flew into your mind, you didn’t give a fuck how loud he was; all you wanted was for him to moan for you.

“my- my name!” he begs.

“jude.” you sigh seductively, his voice cracking as moans escape his lips.

“shit- shit i’m at your mercy!” he cries, his moans getting trapped in his throat, “please! please let me cum for you!” he sobs, his legs start to vibrate.

“cum for me, jude.”

with an almost pornographic moan, jude came. staining his hand and his clothes a warm, white liquid as images of you dominated his mind.

[seraphicalsuccubus]

I need more friends (like okay yes in general but especially for this lmao) either up at the same random times I am or in different time zones to accommodate this

because I am SO tired of always being alone at this time of night, waiting for my sleeping meds to kick in, unsure of what to do with myself and in a chatty mood because I’m usually high or smoking, and have no one to talk to or anything

I just want more people to like FaceTime and video call at this time while I get sleepy enough to actually get some sleep so I have someone to talk to/vibe with/smoke with while I wait for everything to knock me out 😭😭😭

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 9/10 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and paige start to heal

word count: 1.5k

masterlist w/ all parts

It was 2 AM when you finally returned to the hotel room. You’d hung out with some of the girls until they announced that Paige was coming, and then you’d mumbled something about needing to finish up some work and went to a coffee shop. Once the baristas started giving you strange looks, you went to a nearby bar, nursing a Sprite and your feelings in the corner of the room.

You were wasting away time, hoping Paige would be sound asleep by the time you returned to the hotel room. You couldn’t force yourself to face her. It would be easier just to ignore everything and creep into the room in the wee hours of morning.

Except when you tiptoed into the room, Paige was sitting on the bed. There was a low murmur from the NBA game playing on the TV, and she was faced towards it, but the distant look in her eyes told you that she wasn’t paying any attention to it at all.

You swallowed, letting the door close. Paige lurched up and when her eyes fell on you, it was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. “Where were you?” She scrambled off the bed, but didn’t make a move towards me. “I thought something happened.”

“I was just out,” you mumbled, tossing your purse on the counter and slumping on the armchair.

“You can’t just do that.” Paige’s chest heaved. She was close now, and you coud see the dark circles rimming her eyes. Her hair was in a messy ponytail but she looked as beautiful as ever. “You can’t just disappear and not tell anyone. I was calling the rest of the girls but no one was responding because they’re all asleep, and I was getting freaked out.”

A wave of guilt washed over you. To be honest, you hadn’t thought that Paige had cared enough to wonder about your whereabouts. But she’d stayed up, when she was usually in bed by 10, and she’d been worrying her mind over you.

“Are you okay?” Paige asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

You didn’t answer, resting your head on one of the pillows on the couch. “Listen, I know we agreed earlier to sleep on the bed, but if you’re still upset then I can take the ground. It’s really not a big deal,” she stammered out in a rush, looking down at her feet.

At this point, you were exhausted. The overwhelming noise of the bar had given you a pounding headache, and all you wanted to do was sleep. You stood up, slightly swaying, and Paige reached to steady you, but she stopped herself, drawing her hands back to her chest.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you finally responded. “It doesn’t matter, Paige. I’m really tired. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

She nodded, following you with careful eyes as you made your way to the bed. She turned off the lights and gingerly sat on the edge. “You sure?” she asked one more time.

You closed your eyes, slowly breathing out. “Paige.”

“Okay, okay.” She pulled the covers over her body and you both laid there, staring at the ceiling.

For what seemed like hours, you stayed like that, not even bothering to close your eyes. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn’t seem to fall asleep, and neither could Paige.

“Y/N?” She whispered. You clamped your mouth shut, wondering what she would say if she thought you were asleep. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be this close to you and can’t not explain myself. If you’re asleep then whatever, I guess this is practice, but if you’re awake, you don’t have to say anything if I can keep going but…” she trailed off, seeming to be gathering her thoughts.

“I know there’s no excuse for the way I treated you. The things I said. Every day I wake up and regret everything that happened.” She audibly swallowed. “But I need you to know that I didn’t say those things because I didn’t want you. Because fuck, I did. I do. I was just so scared. And I was a pussy, so instead of being mature and dealing it with it head on, I ran away.”

You didn’t know what to say yet, but you shifted your head against the pillow so Paige would know that you were listening.

“I didn’t think I was good enough for you. You were my best friend. You told me everything you wanted, how you wanted to settle down with someone nice and have kids and everything. And knowing who I was, how many other girls I’ve accidentally hurted, I didn’t trust myself to not hurt you too.” Her breaths were shaky now, and you could tell that she was doing that thing where she was trying not to cry. Your heart ached, and it took everything in you not to reach over and touch her.

“I woke up the next morning, and I felt like such a horrible person. That I’d taken advantage of you.” She was crying now, sobs racking her body. She sounded so wrecked, so hurt that when you closed your eyes, tears slipped down your cheeks too.

“I don’t even know how those words came out of me. None of it was true. I hope you know that. And I know I hurt you really bad. But I swear on my life that’s something I’ll try to never do again, if you’ll take me back.” You felt the bed shift as Paige wiped her eyes with her arm. “And I totally get it if you want nothing to do with me ever again. But I’m fucking selfish, and I want to be around you.”

You gasped, tears flowing freely now. The hole in your heart was widening, threatening to eat you alive. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you, telling you to roll around and assure her that everything would be okay.

“This past year has been hell. I miss getting ice cream with you and I miss seeing you at my basketball games and I miss seeing you hang out with Drew and being so good to him. I miss the way you laugh and the way you look in my clothes. I miss you.”

You sat upright. Paige sat up too, surprise in her eyes. The moonlight filtering in through the window was bright enough for you to just make out her features - the wrinkle in her forehead from the downturn of her eyebrows, the redness of her eyes and her lashes coated with wetness, the fullness of her lips, the slant of her jaw. How did she still manage to look so beautiful like this?

“Y/N?” she said softly.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips against hers. She gasped, before she laced her fingers through your hair, pulling you closer. You were on top of her now, straddling her lap, your legs wrapped around her waist.

After a few moments, she pushed you away. Her eyes were half lidden. “Wait,” she panted. “I don’t want to-,”

“You don’t want to what? Kiss me?” You said, peppering kisses down her jawline.

“Y/N, no. God,” she said. “I want to, you know I do. But I don’t want this to end up with just sex and have it complicate things even further.”

You stopped kissing her, instead leaning your head into her neck, breathing in her familiar scent that you had missed all too much. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay?” Paige leaned down, bringing you with her. You were lying half on top of her, and you were so comfortable that you didn’t want to move, but you didn’t want to suffocate her. “If I’m getting heavy, let me know and-”

“No, fuck. This is perfect,” she interrupted, reassuring you.

You tilted your head up to look at her, and her eyes softened. You realized that you’d started crying again when she brought her thumb up to wipe at the tears on your cheeks.

You buried your head back in the crook of her neck, allowing yourself to release all your worries and soak in her presence. She ran her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp in the same way she’s done so many times before. “You’re okay,” she murmured, soothing you to sleep.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Guilty As Sin? — Chapter One

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, not a lot here beyond some world building, the party starts next chapter :)

word count: 3.6k

series masterlist

Though it was the first day of the fall semester and your first day as an official law student, you felt exactly the way you had the year before when you were a struggling undergrad. Same town, same friends, even the same apartment in the student housing complex right next to campus that you shared with three of your closest friends, Nina, Derrick, and Alondra, who just so happened to be law students as well. 

It seemed every aspect of your life had remained stagnant for the last four years, except for one critical thing—you were now a single woman. Four years of the most confusing, toxic, passionate relationship of your life now dead and buried thanks to your ex-boyfriend’s inability to keep his dick in his pants. You’d have to see him too this semester, though you tried to keep the prospect of an awkward run-in out of your head as you got ready for the day to the sound of a busy apartment. Nina and Derrick had breakfast duty this morning, the two of them shuffling around the kitchen as loudly as they could, it seemed. Alondra, like you, was sitting across the hall in her bedroom blasting Kali Uchis out of her speaker, though after two years of living together the noise didn’t really affect you at all anymore. 

“Food’s ready,” Derrick said, popping his head in the crack of your open door. 

Standing at six-foot-two with brown skin, hazel eyes, plump lips, and the sharpest bone structure you’d ever seen, Derrick was beautiful. The two of you had done an awkward dance ever since you’d known him, with Derrick silently crushing and you silently rejecting him. You didn’t know what it was about him that didn’t appeal to you; he was kind, handsome, and funny, all the things a normal girl could want. 

But you never really felt like a normal girl. 

You liked the men that didn’t like you back, the men who desperately needed someone to fix them, always convinced that you had what it took to do just that. Of course, you knew better than that by now, but there was a part of you that worried you. A part you always had to keep an eye on, too afraid of your naive, trusting heart taking the reins. 

“I’ll be out in a sec,” you said, coating your eyelashes in a decent amount of mascara. Derrick leaned against the doorframe, watching you with something too close to adoration for your comfort. You laughed it off, waving your hand at him. “Go away.” 

“Am I making you nervous,” he teased. Truthfully, he was. Just not in the way he probably hoped. 

“I’m trying not to stab myself in the eye,” you said instead. 

“Mmhm,” he chuckled, patting the doorframe. “Hurry up, your plate’s at the table.”

“If you’d let me concentrate.” 

Ten minutes later, you were sitting at the table with Derrick on your right—his plate conveniently set beside yours—and Nina and Alondra across from you.

“I’m swearing off of hookups this semester,” Alondra announced, earning skeptical glances from the three of you. “I am!”

“Until Sabina calls you up late at night claiming she’s lonely and sad,” Derrick teased. You kicked him under the table only to find out that Nina had done the exact same thing. “I’m just speaking the truth.”

“You’re a man, you don’t get to speak your truth here,” Nina said. “And as for you—“ She turned to Alondra beside her. “The minute you run into that bitch, you’re done for. Best to accept it now.”

“No, I’m done with her,” Alondra insisted, though you’d all seen this before. Every fall, without fail, Alondra and her toxic cheater of an ex-girlfriend, Sabina, get back together, and every summer they find a reason to break up, only to repeat the cycle the next year. “I might try dudes for a while.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snorted, carrying your plate to the sink. “Since when are you into dudes?”

“Since Sabina ruined all women for me,” she sassed. “Besides, sexuality’s a spectrum.” 

“What about you?” Nina asked, turning in her chair to watch you wash your dish. “Any plans this semester? Hopefully ones that don’t include a toxic relationship?”

“Certainly not,” you replied with a laugh. “I’m gonna be the most boring fucking person at this school this year. No shitty men, no partying, just school.”

“Twenty bucks I get her to black out this weekend,” Nina challenged, turning to Derrick and Alondra. 

“I’ll take that bet,” Derrick said, shooting you a wink. 

“Alright, while you guys are betting, I’m gonna head out to class. You know, like a serious law student,” you teased, drying your hands off before making your way to the front door. “I’ll see you guys in class.”

The first class of the day was Dr. Brown’s Contracts lecture. You’d had him during undergrad for your Criminal Psych class and specifically sought him out while registering because of his laid-back approach to teaching. Though he appeared to be yet another stuffy old man at face value, his personality was much more in line with that of The Dude from The Big Lebowski. He reeked of weed, loved to curse, and didn’t give a shit about all the formalities the rest of your professors insisted upon. 

Dr. Brown’s class passed by with ease, his lecture on the contract breach between Apple and Samsung paired with a meme-filled PowerPoint amusing you enough that you forgot you’d been sitting there for two hours. 

The next class of the day—Dr. Arman’s Legal Research and Writing course—was far less amusing, but at least Dr. Arman didn’t ask much from her students besides following along with slideshows and turning in the occasional paper. Still, the next hour and a half drudged on like feet on sand, Alondra nodding off beside you in the back of the lecture hall. 

“Shit,” she whispered, snapping awake after a nudge from your elbow to her side. “Is it almost over?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, backing up your bag. “I have to hustle to Criminal Law, you good?”

“Yeah, just gonna rest my eyes for a second,” she mumbled, already falling back to sleep. With a fond smile, you rolled your eyes at her and left the hall. 

The last class of the day was Criminal Law I, taught by Dr. Peña, a professor you’d never had in any of your undergrad classes. It was always a toss up every time you entered a new lecture hall whether or not a professor would end up on your shit list, and a sinking suspicion told you Dr. Peña would not be as casual as Dr. Brown nor as lenient as Dr. Arman. No, there was always one overly demanding, arrogant old prick of a professor each semester without fail. 

Though you’d arrived fifteen minutes before class, all the good seats were taken by the time you walked into the hall, leaving only a few seats at the very front. Sighing, you looked longingly at Nina as she sat in one of the back rows, surrounded by a flock of hopeful men desperate to make her laugh. She caught eyes with you and gasped when she realized where you were headed. 

“No, girl, not the front,” she called, earning a dejected nod from you as you reached the mostly deserted front row. 

As you unpacked your bag and notebook—you hated using your laptop in class—Derrick quickly slid into the seat beside you with a huff, as if he’d just finished a marathon. 

“Had to climb over a row of people to get down here,” he said, smiling at you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, nudging his shoulder with yours. 

“Wasn’t gonna let you slum it down here alone.”

“Thanks,” you chuckled. “You know anything about this guy?”

“Yeah, my brother had him when he went here a few years back,” he said, opening his laptop. “Apparently he’s a dick.”

“Of course he is,” you sighed. 

“You have class after this?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “You?”

“Nah, just the gym with Nina,” he said, stretching out his legs and relaxing into his chair. “You could come, if you wanted.”

“I hate the gym,” you said, scrunching up your nose. “Besides, I need to go get groceries and stuff. Maybe get a head start on Brown’s project.”

“Responsible,” he nodded in approval. “Boring but responsible.”

“All these boring years are gonna pay off when I graduate top of the class,” you quipped, earning a scoff. 

“That’s what you said in undergrad and who ended up graduating at the top?” he asked with a smirk, sticking his chin up with pride. 

“I was one percent away from kicking your ass,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled. 

“Maybe you’ll find another shitty boyfriend to distract you—“

Though you would have liked to hit him for his comment, you were stopped dead in your tracks as the most handsome, brown haired, broad shouldered, puppy-eyed looking man walked out of his adjoining office and up to the desk at the front of the class. He carried an air of authority with his furrowed brows and disapproving frown as he waited for the class to quiet down. 

“If you’re all finished,” he said, unpacking his book bag while scoping out the faces he’d be spending the semester looking at, starting with the back. You watched him with interest, hating that kick of adrenaline the moment his eyes met yours. He seemed to linger for a half a second longer than he had with everyone else before looking away, furthering your delusional thoughts. “Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Dr. Peña, you’ll refer to me as such. I except professionalism, conciseness, and competency from the lot of you. You’re graduates now. Time to act like it.”

“Jesus,” Derrick muttered beside you, shaking his head. 

“There will be no whispering, no texting, and for God’s sake, no music in my class. You’re here to learn and I’m here to teach.”

You listened as a few students gathered their things and silently made their exit from the hall. Dr. Peña watched them with a smug look that did little to shoo away your interest. Fantasies of receiving that same look in a far more inappropriate context flooded your mind, visions of you on your knees in his office. 

“Good, now let’s begin. We’ll be covering the penal code today, along with territorial jurisdiction. Can anyone give me a definition of the latter?” 

Never one to volunteer an answer without being called on, you waited for someone else to take the fall. Dr. Peña seemed just as patient, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that pulled at the fabric covering his arms. You quickly turned your eyes down to your notebook when he caught you staring, busying yourself with jotting down the date. 

“In the front,” he said, earning your attention. When you found him still watching you, you let out a small sigh. “Would you care to give us a definition, Miss…”

Giving him your last name, you searched your mind for the definition that you remembered learning at some point during your four years of undergrad. 

“Territorial jurisdiction refers to a court’s power in a certain territory,” you said, swallowing down your nerves as you began to feel your ears heat. 

“And in regards to Texas? Can you give me the section of the Penal Code that covers territorial jurisdiction?” he asked, his voice a deep, whiskey warm timbre that hit you like an aphrodisiac, your mind running rampant with all sorts of inappropriate scenarios of hearing that sinful voice up close and personal.

“I…don’t know,” you said, lowering your eyes down to your desk just to get a break from his steady eye contact. 

“Section 1.04,” he said, a hint of arrogance in his tone. “Now that you have the section, would you mind reading the text for us?”

Taking a deep breath, you flipped to the section in your textbook, hoping that your nervous stutter didn’t make an appearance today. 

“I can do it,” Derrick volunteered, mildly irking you. Did he think he was saving you? Or was this his attempt at competition? 

Dr. Peña waited until he was finished to admonish his interruption. 

“Thank you, Mr…,”

“Crawley,” he said, offering him a charming smile. 

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Crawley, but in the future, I ask that you refrain from interjecting. I’m sure your friend was perfectly capable of reading aloud,” Dr. Peña said, causing Derrick to scoff under his breath. “Alright, I need a volunteer from the second row to read the next section.” 

Derrick seemed to take it to heart, his ever-present smile long gone as he typed his notes on his laptop. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, tapping his shoe with yours. 

“S’whatever,” he shrugged, but you knew him well enough by now that it was far from whatever to him. Derrick was always the best in every class, always adored by professors. You weren’t sure he’d ever been scolded by a teacher in his life, let alone in front of the entire class. “He’s a prick.”

“He’s—“

“Are we interrupting?” Dr. Peña sighed, leveling a look at the two of you as if to say, really? You shrank in your seat, avoiding his stern eyes. “Anyways, you were saying, Miss Martinez?” 

After a tense hour spent listening to Dr. Peña pick on the class, it was time to pack up. You could practically hear your bed calling as you packed your things into your bag, except…

“Would you mind staying behind for a moment,” Dr. Peña asked, calling your name. You gave Derrick a wide eyed look, earning a raise of his brow. 

“Sure, um—“

“I’ll wait up for you,” Derrick offered, slinging his bag over his shoulders before filing out of the lecture hall with the rest of the class. 

Once alone with Dr. Peña, you began to feel sick with anticipation, especially as he sat quiet at his desk shuffling through papers. 

“I’d like to apologize for today. I’m afraid we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” you said, carefully approaching his desk. “I assure you, this is nothing I take more seriously than this. I—“

“I asked you to stay behind because I’m in need of an assistant for my undergrad Intro to Forensics class and your name was given to me by the Dean,” he said, looking up at you with a mixture of exhaustion and boredom in his eyes.  

“Wait—what?” you gave him a puzzled look. 

“Your name is listed in the TA program, is it not?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to ogle him, but the way his white button down stretched across his broad chest made it damn near impossible.

“It is, but—“

“You’re one of the only law students available who’s taken the class before,” he said, clicking his pen as he began to mark the syllabus sheets he’d passed out towards the end of class. “So, what do you say? Three labs a week. Paid, of course.”

“I’m not sure I can handle the extra load, honestly,” you said. Though you were sure the extra work would certainly up the pressure, it wasn’t the real reason you were so quick to decline. Truthfully, it was him. How were you supposed to be around him an extra three days a week when you were already worried about the three you’d be spending with him in this class? “But if you’re in need of a recommendation, Mr. Crawley took Intro to Forensics with me and—“

“Take a day, think about it. First lab is Wednesday,” he interjected, glancing up at you with those brown eyes that looked both innocent and dangerous at the same time, a confusing balance your overly romantic heart longed to study in depth. You chuckled, a sound of disbelief over his disregard for your rejection, as you watched him turn back to his work. “I’ll have the Dean send over a formal offer this afternoon.”

“What time are the labs?” you asked, slowly accepting your fate—or, more accurately, accepting his stubbornness on the matter. 

“Eight to ten in the evening,” he replied, sounding as though he might yawn at the prospect. “Not ideal.”

“No,” you agreed, offering him a small smile. “I, uh, I’ll think about it.”

Not wanting to embarrass yourself—or endure more of this delusional torture—you made your exit as quickly and gracefully as you could manage, waiting until you were out in the main hall to freak out. 

“What did his fine ass want?” Nina asked, approaching you with Derrick in tow. You snorted at her brashness and rolled your eyes. 

“His fine ass wanted me to TA for his Intro to Forensics lab,” you replied, shaking your head as you looked through your tote for some gum, hoping to distract your rampant fantasies about said fine ass. 

“What the fuck?” Derrick griped, shaking his head. “I’ve been begging the dean to get me a TA position this semester but he said all the positions had been filled.”

“I tried to recommend you,” you offered, giving him a sympathetic frown. “I don’t even know if I’ll take it—”

“Then let me,” he said, hope lighting up his eyes. Even though you still had yet to make up your mind on the matter, his assumption that you’d just give urubbed you the wrong way. 

“I’m gonna think about it first,” you said, sharing a knowing look with Nina. 

If there was one thing to fault Derrick for, it would be his tendency to step on people—even his closest friends—to secure an opportunity. Even when he didn’t need to, even when he’d already won over most professors on campus, even when he knew his female friends struggled to reach even half of the respect given to him strictly because he was a man. 

“You coming with us to the gym?” Nina asked, changing the subject as she watched you bite back the urge to tell Derrick that maybe, just this once, it would be you stepping over him to secure a good opportunity. 

“No thanks,” you chuckled. 

“Lame,” she said, glancing over at Derrick who seemed to be lost in thought. “Well I’m gonna go change.” 

“See you later on,” you said, watching as she made her way down the hall. 

“So you think you might take the job?” Derrick asked, sticking his hands in his pocket. 

“I might,” you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Just…be careful,” he cautioned, causing your brows to furrow. “Male professors can be creepy as fuck.”

“Men in general can be, yeah,” you laughed. “But I’m sure I can take care of myself.” 

He nodded, ticking his jaw. 

“Well, I gotta go get groceries,” you lied, desperate to get back home, crawl into bed, and maybe do something about those fantasies from earlier. “I’ll see you back—“

“Come to dinner with me,” he blurted, biting his lip as he watched you go through a rollercoaster of emotions. Shock, amusement, confusion, before landing on something akin to empathy. 

“What? Derrick—“

“Just one date,” he promised. “One date and if it doesn’t work out, you know…we can just stay friends.” 

“I don’t know that it’s that simple,” you said, looking anywhere but at him. 

Why was he so dead set on going down this road; of making this mistake that you knew would end terribly? 

“Just a date,” he coaxed. “And I promise no weirdness afterwards if it doesn’t work out.”

“You can’t promise that,” you muttered, shaking your head. “And even if you can, I don’t know that I can.” 

“That’s assuming it goes bad,” he said, nudging your shoulder with a smile. “Friday night, you and me, some fancy restaurant I can barely afford. What do you say?”

Perhaps it was the new year, or maybe just the endorphins brought on by the sight of Dr. Peña in his tight slacks, but what did you have to lose? A good friend that you weren’t even sure would be your friend if he didn’t believe it was his only way in? 

“Fine,” you said, sighing. “One date. No weirdness. No expectations.”

Derrick grinned, nodding as he pulled you in for a hug. “Won’t regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled. 

“Excuse me,” Dr. Peña appeared, in the doorway the two of you were blocking, causing Derrick to pull you out of the way and into his side. You watched Dr. Peña’s eyes scan the proximity between the two of you, a hint of disapproval on his face that you were sure you were imagining. “Have a good afternoon, you two.”

“You too,” you managed, sliding Derrick’s arm off your shoulder. “Also—“

Dr. Peña stopped, turning back towards you. “I, uh, I’ll take the job.”

“What?” Derrick scoffed, earning a curious look from Dr. Peña. 

“Very well,” he nodded. “You’ll find the contract in your email tonight.”

“Thank you for the opportunity, Professor,” you said, trying your hardest not to purr the last word out the way your filthy mind yearned to. 

Thank you for the opportunity, Professor. Such a fucking cliche that you had no intentions on perpetuating. 

Except for the fantasies. After all, what harm could come from a silly little fantasy?  

[carmenberzattosgf]

carmy somehow manages to keep the tattoo hidden from you until it’s properly healed and when he finally reveals it he’s so happy that you like it!! you gently touch it and that’s what makes him lose it—taking your clothes off and settling you on his thigh saying “make yourself feel good f’me. that’s your initial on it, yeah? so it’s yours. i’m yours.” doesn’t help that it feeds into his thing for marking, feeling how wet you are against his thigh -💫

Oh my beloved 💫 anon your thoughts always HIT. I’m thinking Carmy legit keeps one of those big bandaids on it until it heals, blaming it on getting hot oil spilled on him in the kitchen or something if you asked about it. More under the cut!!

You’re in the bathroom, finishing up brushing your teeth when he calls for you in the bedroom. “Baby, can you come here really quick?” When you enter the room, Carmy’s sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only boxer briefs. “Will you rip off this bandaid for me?” He says, pointing to the large bandaid that’s covering a spot on his thigh. “I don’t wanna do it myself.”

“It’s been on there for like a week now. Are you sure you want me to? It’s going to hurt like hell.” Little did you know that Carmy has been putting on the bandage every day at the restaurant before heading home. That way, the tattoo could properly heal. You walk over to his feet, kneeling in front of him. Carmy swallows deeply, nervous as you peel up the very edge of the bandaid.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just count to three and go for it.”

“Alright. One, two, three—“ Carmy doesn’t even flinch. Your eyes shift down to his thigh and you finally see it. It’s your initials in cursive script right in the middle of his thigh. The tattoo isn’t huge. Honestly it’s quite dainty compared to his others. “Carmy— is that?” You look up at him in complete shock.

“Mhm. Uh— do you like it?” He scratches the back of his neck nervously, awaiting your answer.

“Of course I do! You got my initials on you, Carm. I love it.” You begin to reach your hand out to touch it before pulling back. “Wait, can I touch it? Is it healed?”

“I got it two weeks ago. It should be all healed up.”

You’re careful as you run your fingers over the lettering. Goosebumps rise on his skin from your touch. “It’s so pretty, Carmy. Thank you for getting it for me.” Without a wasting a second, you lean down to press a delicate skin on the inked skin.

There’s something about you on your knees in front of Carmy, kissing his thigh, that gets him hard in a matter of seconds. Carmy pulls you up quickly. You know from the second you see the look in his eye, and the bulge in his pants, what he’s thinking. “Need to take these off,” he mumbles as his hands push into the waistband of your pants. “Can I take these off?” His movements pause as he waits for your permission. His blue eyes are completely blown out as they look up at you.

“Y-yeah. Please.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Carmy pulls down your sweatpants and underwear in one go. He grabs your waist, shuffling you towards him to stand with his tattooed-adorned thigh in between your legs.

“Sit,” he instructs. His strong hands at your side urge you to sit down on his thigh. You whine when your soaked core meets his skin, right on top of your initials.

“Carmy—shit.”

“Already so wet. You must really like seeing your initials on my skin. I’m marked up forever now.” His voice is rough, completely filled with arousal. “I want you to ride my thigh and make yourself feel good for me. Can you do that baby?”

“Mhm,” you respond. Your hips move eagerly on his thigh. Your slick makes the movement easy. Your eyes are drawn to the sight below you, Carmy’s tattoo completely covered in your arousal. Carmy notices where your eyes are locked, and his follow suit. His hands tighten on your hips, watching as you desperately grind on his thigh.

“That’s your initials right there. All yours. I’m all yours, now,” he whispers into your ear before moving down to press kisses to your neck and jaw. You’re already close, cunt throbbing against him.

“Carm, fuck. I’m—I’m close,”

“Let go then. Make a mess all over me. Soak your initials.” Carmen’s words send you over the edge as you cum on his thigh. Your legs shake as your head falls into the crook of his neck. “Good job, baby. Did so good for me.”

When you have the strength again, you lift up your head and plant a huge kiss onto Carmy’s lips. “I love you so fucking much. Thank you for getting this tattoo. It means the world to me.”

“Gotta show people who I belong to somehow,” he laughs.

“Let me try and show you just how much it means to me, yeah?” You say, slowly sinking down to your knees in front of him.

[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 8 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 1.5k c/w: language a/n: sighhhhh i'm not so happy with the way this ended, but i had so much fun writing this series. honestly, though, i'm very excited to start on some new stuff, so please please please stay tuned for that. let me know if you guys have requests, i'm feeling uninspired. thank you all so so much for staying tuned for this series, and while i'm sad it's over, you may be seeing more of paige and maya later on! let me know what you think!

When I wake up the next morning, I try for a moment to fool myself that this is my normal. That I always wake up wrapped in Paige, her hair tickling my nose. That I get to press a soft kiss into the skin of her neck and watch her eyes flutter open every single morning.

But in reality, we've fucked up. Paige’s eyes bore into mine. “We shouldn’t have done that,” she sighs. It’s not a question. It’s the truth. I search her eyes, trying to find some semblance of calm in the baby blue. This morning doesn’t forecast clear skies, as it would seem. Instead, I’m met with a raging storm.

“Do you wish we hadn’t?” I ask. My voice sounds foreign to my own ears. She hesitates. “I should,” she tells me. “But I don’t.” I shut my eyes, exhaling through my nose. She keeps talking. “I got to touch you.”

“I got to kiss you. Got to hold you, get to wake up to you.”

I nod, pursing my lips. “I know.”

“Maya, baby.”

I let myself look at her, opening my eyes to let them rove over her lips and her nose.

“I need to tell you something,” Paige says quietly.

She sits up, clad in one of her own t-shirts she’d grabbed from my closet. My eyes follow her movements, waiting with bated breath to see if she’ll leave.

“It wasn’t you. It was me.”

I sit up cautiously, narrowing my eyes at her. “Are you… re-breaking up with me, right now, Paige?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head indignantly. “No! No, no, no! Just-just listen, okay?”

I nod, encouraging her to go on. 

“I was insecure. I was so worried that everyone else would see what I see in you - how beautiful you are, how smart you are, and kind, and funny, and talented, and-and sexy. How could they not? I mean, you’re all that and-and more.”

“But I should have trusted you, too. It was unfair of me to throw the situation with Nicky back in your face. I’m the one who kissed you. I called you and you came, because you always do, because that’s how good you are. Because you love me. You’ve never done wrong by me, Maya. Ever. Even if I missed a comp, you were always there at my games. Even when I fucked up, you showed up for me, Mai.”

“And I’ve known. That it’s you. Maybe as long as we’ve known each other, I couldn’t tell you. But I don’t want anyone to touch me the way you do. I can’t imagine looking at someone else and-and feeling the things I feel when I look at you, Mai. I can’t even put them into words. I just know that this feeling that I have - right now - waking up to you and knowing that I’m yours and you’re mine… shit, Maya. I want this feeling for fucking life.”

My eyes sting with tears. “Paige,” I whisper. 

“And I know you want time. And space. Or whatever the fuck. But I’m telling you I don’t need any of that shit. I just need you. Us. However much you’re willing to give. I’ll take it. Some of you, all of you. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll wait. However long it takes.” She rushes all of this out, her tone taking on a sense of urgency. 

I’m silent, still processing her words. 

“My bus to the airport leaves in an hour. If I’m not there, Coach will skin me alive,” she tells me, getting off the bed. “I know… you have doubts. I get it. But I’m telling you right now, you’re fucking it for me, Maya. And if you need a day, weeks, months, years to get to that place - I’ll still wait for you.”

Paige walks briskly to me, taking my face in her hands. I feel as though I’m in a state of shock. “My bus leaves from the Hilton. If you come, I’ll know you want to keep trying.” She kisses me chastely. “Please come,” she whispers.

Then she’s gone. I glance at the clock on my phone. It reads 9:30. 

I let about fifteen minutes pass.

Then another fifteen. I pick at my blankets, my fingers twitching.

Twenty minutes go by.

Then thirty more.

I check my phone again. Nothing from Paige. The time reads 10:52.

I hesitate.

Then I grab my car keys off my nightstand.

*******

Paige’s POV

“She didn’t come?” KK asks softly. I stare out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dark hair. “Nah, guess not.” I try to play it off, acting like it doesn’t bother me, but my heart feels like someone stabbed it and twisted the knife. I pull my jacket tighter around me, as though it might hide the bloodstains. 

The ride to the airport is slow and painful. I wallow in the words I said to her before I left. 

The truth is, I don’t want to be without her. I can’t. I’ve been in love with her since I was fifteen years old. I’m 23 now, and the sun still rises and sets on that fucking smile. 

I trudge through the airport, drag myself through security, and plop down at a seat at our gate. Azzi tries to poke me, trying to tease me to cheer me up. It doesn’t work. I shoot her a glare, then turn to the other side, determined to ignore the rest of my team. 

That’s when I see her.

Maya. 

She’s wearing what she wore to bed last night, a hoodie thrown over her t-shirt and shorts. She looks frantic, just about running through the airport. She clutches her keys in one hand, wallet in the other.

I shoot to my feet.

“Maya,” I breathe. KK gives me a weird look. “Yo, I know you’re down bad and all, but you have to chill.”

I swat her, my eyes still trained on the dark haired girl running through the Detroit airport. “No, dude. Maya. She’s here.”

KK’s eyes go wide when they spot her. “Girl, what are you standing here for? Go get her!”

“Right,” I mumble, nearly tripping trying to get past the bundle of duffels we all have on the floor in front of us. 

“Maya!” I call, praying she hears me. “Maya!”

She spins to find my voice, her hair swishing around her. I see her lips form my name, and then she’s sprinting towards me, launching herself at me. Without hesitation, I gather her in my arms, squeezing her to me, letting her wrap her legs around my waist. “Paige,” she whispers into my hair, placing a kiss at my temple.  “What are you doing here?” I wonder aloud. “I-I bought a ticket to Miami,” she splutters out, tears filling her eyes. “They wouldn’t let me in otherwise, but I had to see you-”

“You came,” I breathe, locking my arms around her body.

She stops, pulling back to look at me, a ‘duh’ look on her face. “You called,” she replies. 

I bury my face into her, breathing in her smell. “Don’t do that again, okay?” I beg.

She laughs tearfully, nodding and clutching me to her. It occurs to me momentarily that this is an awfully public display of affection to be having in an airport, but I don’t give a shit.

“Never again,” she agrees, slowly unhooking her legs from around me. 

“God, you scared me,” I tell her, but I’m too busy drinking her in to actually be mad.

“I just thought about what you said. We’re so over everything that happened in high school. I’m not scared you’ll hurt me again. I trust you too much for that. And I don’t need days or weeks or however fucking long, Paige. It’s been four years. I’m done waiting. I want this. Now,” she tells me earnestly.

I nod eagerly, unable to believe my ears. “We’ll- we’ll make it work. I’ll call you every day, every hour if you want. Whatever you want. You can visit! I’ll pay for your flights. I got NIL bank now, I’ll pay for whatever. I just-”

I know I’m babbling, but I’m just so unbelievably happy, I think I might be high off of it. I interrupt myself to kiss her, pulling her to me, not caring who sees. She laughs against me, kissing me back, and I think at this moment that if I could bottle her laugh up, I could get drunk off of it.

I lift her up off her feet once more, grinning at her.

“I hope you know I’m never letting you get away from me again,” I tell her.

Maya smiles at me, pecking my nose. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” she retorts.

I grin at her, stupidly in love with every single part of her. “You and me, baby?”

The smile she flashes at me is blinding, and she’s so beautiful I think I might pass out. 

“You and me.”