#I’m sorry for the ungodly amount of tags on this

[kairos-in-space]

in awe of their 'tism

[matrix-level]

hear me out y’all…

…jason grace with long hair.

no but like imagine—

it’s wavy, knots easily, and it turns into literal frizz if he brushes it out dry, but it’s still soft and people (people being nico, hazel, and eventually percy, and i’ll explain why them specifically later on) will have jace lean down, bend over, and/or sit/lay down so they can use his wild mane as a pillow or run their tired, calloused fingers through it.

they always ask for permission, and he almost always says yes, partly because he’s slightly (hugely, insanely) touch starved, partly because he’s the Biggest Softie since he simply can’t resist them. but on the days that he just can’t accept, on the days that even the thought of foreign hands going anywhere near his messy locks makes him want to bare his teeth and cry at the same time, they let him braid or fuss with their hair instead.

sometimes he’ll straighten it, and when he does, it covers his face and drapes over his shoulders like a curtain, which drives most of the people he interacts with insane and makes them ask if they could touch his hair, subsequently leading them to gently, oh so carefully, tuck his hair behind his ear. they’ll light up in delight at finally being able to see his shy smile and bright eyes where there had previously only been golden hair, and then their relieved grins will morph into something mock-scolding as they ask why the hell he even bothers to straighten his hair if he won’t pin it back himself. he never replies, usually ends up diverting the conversation to something else.

they don’t know that he uses the flat iron (and allows his hair to naturally shield his face, not bothering with putting it up) now solely so they’ll end up touching him Like That (every nanosecond that passes by of them warmly sifting through his hair and brushing against his cheek and ear he cherishes deeply, the memories taking up a dear place in his heart, his very soul.)

anyway, back to the people that routinely play with his hair - 

nico: nico has always had long hair, but he’s never really thought about it as “long” or “tousled” or any other kind of descriptor because he didn’t care much for his hair. it was just another thing he had to look after just so it wouldn’t fall off or become too long for him to manage. jason changed that point of view. it was only a few weeks after gaea that jason began to grow his hair out, flashes of before he was found by the legion and forced to conform to all their rules, including the cutting of his hair, would appear behind his eyelids and at one point he just thought, “why not?” and stopped cutting it except for the healthy trims that were necessary. 

then one day, nico comes back from a rather grueling day of being Hades’ little messenger and comes across jason at camp half blood with nose-length, wind-fussed, wavy hair, and he has to pause because his best friend just looked so…rugged and cute and human, and it is the biggest temptation in the world to just reach up and touch what he was so used to seeing as short and only got close to falling over the blonde’s brow.

but he resists and simply asks jason what’s up with his hair. jason smiles widely, so happy that nico asked about it that he reaches down and places nico’s hand on top of his head. he immediately lets go of nico’s hand, as if he had been burned, and sheepily says, “sorry i touched you without asking. i got excited, and i won’t do it again. anyway, feel it! it’s soft, and it’s the longest it’s been in over a decade! isn’t it cool??”

nico just stands there, shocked, mouth opening and closing, his brain “error 404”ing as he processes what just happened before he hesitantly starts softly moving his fingers through jason’s hair and scritching at his scalp. it’s then that jason’s eyes roll back as he simply melts where he’s standing, his head tilting wherever nico’s fingertips venture. nico, once he notices jason’s puppy-like pleasure, just shakes his head (shaking himself out of his momentary stupor) and grins lopsidedly, his brow raising.

“you’re such a dork, you know that, Grace? gods, why am i even friends with you?” he says, that last sentence instinctively uttered before his brain could catch up with his mouth. then he freezes, his hand paused where it was working through a small knot on jason’s head, as he realizes that was the first time he called jason his friend. jason, on the other hand, doesn’t freeze at all, and actually whines when it registers that he’s not getting scratches anymore. nico melts as much as jason has and subtly breathes out a sigh of relief at the fact that jason hadn’t protested at being called his friend or said anything about it at all. he smiles in the way that he only does with will, his sister, and his friend (his big broth-): jason.

after that, jason’ll continue to have nico pet him whenever they cross paths or whenever they have the time to hang out, and a little while after that nico will have worked up the courage to say to jason, “head scratches?” as soon as they’re within touching distance, and he doesn’t even bat an eye the times that jason will shake his head and ask for some other kind of physical touch.

flash forward to months later, and nico is hit with the realization that because of how much he cares for and plays with jason’s hair, he’s come to see his own as something just as precious, but he finds he doesn’t mind, and goes back to styling his hair however which way he subconsciously was going to.

hazel: back when jason had first joined the fifth cohort, jason had been jaded and unhappy from all the meetings he had had with the higher ups about him becoming praetor and joining the first cohort without any effort on his part only because of his parentage, and he had tried to be there for his new partners and roommates, but his heart wasn’t in it. everyone could see that, had seen jason deny all the chances he had to be spoon fed things to him for simply being the son of jupiter, and had steered clear of him, but not hazel. in the weeks that he had been distant from the fifth cohort, his hair had become unkempt, and because all those with authority were also steering clear of him, they hadn’t bothered to pester him about his hair, but hazel secretly enjoyed such a thing.

one night she had offered to braid his hair for him, and it was the first time in a while he had even taken note of his wild locks. he agreed, a shaky smile curling his lips and an intensely disappointed look in his eye. hazel then situated herself behind him and began sectioning out and separating the waves, the strands like liquid gold in her hands and the thought making a small nugget of gold sprout near her crossed legs, which manages to make jason’s smile a bit more full of life, along with the feeling of hazel’s sure hands working through his neglected hair.

they spend hours over the course of many years just going through each other’s hair, and beyond their hair bonding they don’t talk much or interact much, so their relationship status stays officially at that of acquaintance, and when jason disappears, hazel finds herself absently messing with her hair in the same way jason did unconsciously whenever she got nervous or frazzled or simply needed comfort. she never confronted those feelings, those cravings of having her “acquaintance”’s hands working through her coiling curls while he was gone for all that time. 

it was once they were reunited on the argo II that she nervously approached him and talked to him of before, the nights wasted away as they were comfortably enveloped in a bubble of contentedness, of safety, of comfort. jason felt so horrible about not being able to remember those nights, as they sounded like everything he could ever want (he could ever need), and he tells hazel so as he waves to his short hair, but hazel just smiles reassuringly and carefully brings out a hand-sized container full of wonderfully-smelling leave-in-conditioner. she murmurs to him in his empty, cold cabin that maybe his hands will remember their sacred journey through her dark curls, and offers the container to him. 

jason finds himself accepting, the atmosphere weirdly calm and settling and familiar as hazel situates herself on the bed in the same spot she always did, her eyes closed, her body positioned as it always was. jason instinctively finds himself filling an empty cup with warm water and arranges himself behind hazel in the way he always did, and he covers his hands in the water and leave-in-conditioner, and livens up and plays with and braids and un-braids hazel’s hair in a way that speaks to him of experience, of a home that he can’t remember. was this girl that he didn’t know, that was a stranger to him now, and from what he’s heard, a stranger before, his home?

such a thought punches the air out of his lungs, and he spends a lot of their time together for the rest of that night contemplating and wondering and having a couple mini-crises about it. the next night, however, when she’s knocking at his door with more hair supplies, a few for what little hair he himself has, he’s decided by then that it doesn’t matter if she was his home before. if they both enjoy it, the silence and the reassurance and the familiarity and the warmth, then she can be his home now. 

hazel doesn’t even ask the first time when she sees his chin-length hair after the war. she just smiles, a glint in her eye that has more flashes popping up behind his eyes, touches a few of her fingers to the tips of his waves, and then leads him to the hades cabin. their bubble is already enshrouding them, and jason finds himself trailing after his home as she leads him to where their new routine of comfort will take place. 

percy: during gaea’s quest, percy and jason, at first (at first meaning after their forced fight, not their first ever interactions), had been wary of each other and had just opted to steer clear of each other except for when they had to keep watch with one another, had to fight a few monsters, and had to collaborate during meetings. other than that? nothing. they were basically coworkers that secretly admired and hated the other for their strengths and the things the other had that they didn’t, but it all came to a point when percy found jason on the top deck of the ship, in the middle of the night, his jammies barely keeping the cold out and the air carrying the scent of the sea, just on some random day of the week. nightmares and blurry visions were keeping him up lately, and on the nights that he couldn’t be bothered to try and go back to sleep, he would attempt to calculate the right times to go above the main floor where he could be alone to gaze up at the stars. 

jason was there, sitting up with a blanket covering his curled up legs, his hair in his hands, which was…insanely and fairly suddenly long. percy blinked where he stood there awkwardly, confusion running through his veins as he tilted his head. 

weird, was all he could think, at the sight of jason having ridiculously long hair when just earlier that day it had barely flopped over his forehead. jason sensed there was another person on the deck with him and looked back, and percy sucked in a sharp breath at seeing jason’s curious and almost elated expression lit up by the moonlight, an ocean breeze ruffling through his golden locks and making it flap and curl around his pretty face. he smiled slightly - his scar pulling - at seeing the intruder on whatever moment he was having was percy, and he whispered for him to come closer. 

percy, even more confused jason wasn’t being cautious or hostile towards him like he usually was, just blinked some more before his feet were carrying him forward against his will. he sat down next to jason, and when he turned to face him, jason reached out for percy’s hand. he paused, that slight smile still twisting his lips pleasantly and his light locks catching on his button nose. 

“can i touch you?” he mumbled, his eyes calmly searching percy’s befuddled own. percy simply nodded, his vocal cords, for some reason, and for the first time since, well, ever, not working. jason’s smile widened almost knowingly, as if he knew that percy’s words were caught on his tongue, where they could not pass through his teeth. he softly took percy’s hand into his before settling it in his long, long waves, the blonde locks peeking through percy’s tan fingers and coating the teen’s hands in moonlight-dipped white.

“monster got the jump on me. said it would restore a torturous piece of my past, but my gut is telling me that only good can come from me having long hair. i’ve since been up here, thinking. and i’m sorry. for all the things that i’ve said and thought about you. you, in many ways, are who i wish i could be, and i suppose that’s made me bitter towards you. no excuse, though, for the way i’ve treated you.” jason guides percy’s hands through his pale hair, the strands fluttering at his ministrations and wrapping around his palm as if the blonde’s hair wished for him to never let go. eventually, jason’s hand dropped - percy’s staying where it was slowly working through blonde waves - the silence full of a hand combing through hair and a mouth that so desperately wanted to admit to the same things that had already been said, but for some reason just couldn’t. 

jason, knowing and understanding and amazingly, didn’t mind at all, pressed a hand to percy’s chest, where his heart was beating a bit faster than it normally would. then he smiled. 

“i’m not good at silence. silence means hidden meanings, hints, subtleties, and i’m never any good at the things that aren't explicitly said. but I can clearly see that you want to apologize and explain yourself as well, that you want to relate to me and say you get it, more than anyone else would, so it’s okay. you can stop trying. tell me tomorrow, or the day after that, or the week after that. whenever you’re ready.”

percy smiled weakly, as jason so clearly laid out what percy was desperate to get past his stubborn mouth, and he found himself more passionately working through jason’s hair, his awe at how…chill jason was when he wasn’t in leader mode and glaring daggers at percy’s more vulnerable spots shining through his eyes. he found that his need to tell jason that he wanted to be able have a real, extensive conversation about all their grievances and grudges with one another so intense that it burned within him. jason just shook his head, said, “later,” and brushed his own hand through percy’s hair absently. 

percy found he was grateful towards this 16 year old who just…got percy way too much for all that they were supposed to be rivals, and he also found himself understanding jason, a little. 

the next day jason and percy, after they had gone over some plans at breakfast and had gotten some food in them, had had a long day full of explanations and rants and complaints and a bit of shouting and crying, but it was worth it when the night after that they had had the opportunity to play with each other’s hair, jason’s back to normal, somehow, and percy’s it’s usual charming mess, with nothing between them but comprehension, the sort that spoke of new beginnings and a few happy endings that they would quietly come up with as they looked up at the stars, each other’s hands buried deep in their respective blonde and black locks. 

once gaea had been defeated, percy easily noticed how hazel and nico would meet up with jason and touch his hair or him in general as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and he found himself approaching his friend at some point about it, curious about what it all meant. 

jason simply said that they understood, like percy did, but only when it came to his hair. 

such an explanation only made sense to percy, who smiled wickedly and flicked a piece of jason’s hair before asking sarcastically if he could be let in the loop. 

jason then looked at him quizzically, that settling sense of home he now got with hazel and nico rushing through him and whispering to percy, who felt a bit unsure about it. “let in the loop? but you’re already in it,” jason had said, confusion scrunching up his nose which made percy boop it. jason spluttered, but his indignant squawks were quieted instantly when percy put a hand in jason’s hair. he smiled gently as he brushed through the sleek, straight strands, and quietly he asked, “if i’m in the loop, then, could i stay?”

jason smiled up at percy dopily - percy had to stifle a laugh at the sight, fondness scraping at his insides - and simply said in response, “were you not planning on staying?”

and percy never left after that, his hands constantly combing through thick, blonde waves, of which left phantom feelings on his sword-conditioned hands that always had him scrambling for more. 

p.s. that day where jason and percy talked things out? and jason had long hair? you best bet hazel got to play with it while they were in their bubble later that night, and jason was so happy that they could have This, for however long the monster's spell would last. he was deeply saddened that it didn’t last long at all. 

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 5,115

Warning: cursing, apologies, fingering, handjobs, smut 🥹, fluff

A/N: Well everyone, we have one more part of this series. 🥲 But I plan on taking requests for our sweet, complicated couple! !! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

“You want what?” Satoru stared blankly at you, blinking ever so slowly like a cat. Your words seemed to have short-circuited his brain.

“I said I want a refund.” your tone is stoic, “I am not happy with the services I was provided.” Satoru’s shocked expression twists into a wide grin as you stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “High-end escort, my ass.”

Satoru laughs, throwing his head back as a faint flush grazes over his cheeks. “Yeah? Not happy at all, huh?” His eyes dance over your features.

“Nope! This jerk got up and left me after I paid him.” You shrug your shoulders dramatically. “Not only am I out an ungodly amount of money, but I’m also dateless for this wedding.”

“He sounds like a class-A-asshole.” Satoru’s hand gently reaches out, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, he was.” His heart flutters at ‘was’ instead of ‘is,’ an ember of hope flickers to life in his chest. “Then again, he said sorry, and punched the hell out of my asshole ex, so I guess he isn’t that bad.”

Satoru’s fingers are so warm and gentle against your face. His thumb brushed over tear-stained cheeks as he pulled you in, closing the distance between you. His forehead presses gently against your own as he shuts his eyes.

“I’ll make sure you get every last cent back.” White lashes life, pools of breathtaking blue peek through them, meeting you. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Cool,” you sighed, leaning into his touch, “I would like to use that money to take a few pastry classes.”

God, hearing you say that makes Satoru’s heart leap with joy. “Money well spent, not that you need it. Your pastries are the absolute best.” your hand reaches up, gently holding Gojo’s firmly against your cheek, not allowing him to move. He swallows thickly at the regret forming in his throat. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“How long did it take you to figure out it wasn't me after you left?”

“Maybe an hour,” he scoffed, his breath hot against your lips, “I honestly have to give Suguru the credit. He knocked the sense into my head.”

“Thank God for Suguru.”

“Yeah, he called me a fucking idiot.”

“Well—.”

“I know, I was the biggest fuckin’ idiot.”

Silence washed through the room. It wasn't uncomfortable in the silence, reminding you of the first night you two spent together. Things had been so smooth and natural with him, and they still were. Satoru hadn't believed you at first. He said some fucked up shit, but he had apologized for them. He had told you himself that he wanted to make your relationship work.

Staying angry and pushing him away would be too easy. You could quickly write this off as another failed relationship. Or you could do one of the hardest things a person could do.

You could fight.

Fight for what could be a relationship that only comes once in a lifetime. Fight for a future. You could fight to see this through, to see where it took you both.

You sat back, sighing dramatically. “I guess I owe Suguru a drink when you introduce us.” Cerulean eyes were the size of peas as your words washed over Satoru.

“What?”

“Or maybe I’ll take him to lunch for his help.” Heart thundering, you did your best to keep cool, examining your nails boredly. “Or better yet, I could make us three dinner. I may be a professional baker who works with confectioners sugar, but my curry is to die for.”

“S-Sweetheart—”

You grabbed Satoru’s face, pulling him as close to you as possible. “Toru,” The man stiffened at the use of his nickname, “you said what we have is worth fighting for. That you want to be with me.” You inched closer to his face, your fingers brushing over his cheekbones.

“I did say that, and I meant every word.” He leaned into your touch, his hands caressing your bruising knuckles.

“Are you positive?”

“I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't.”

“How can you be so sure? How will we make this work when you're an escort?” Dread worked its way through your stomach, settling over your chest. “I—I don't think I could just wait at home for you to come back from work. But I also don't want to keep you from doing something you love. You do it to help people; it makes you happy. I don't want to take that away from you.”

From the mere silence, you weren't sure what was going through Satoru’s mind. He just stayed stoic, glancing over you with an unreadable expression. God, maybe this was something he didn't want to give up.

What felt like an eternity of silence ended as Satoru moved. Your hands fell onto your lap as he ran his hands over your upper arms in smooth, gentle strokes. You had been so uncertain of what he would say or do, how he would react to your hesitancy. The way his crystalline blue eyes burned with a fiery passion told you everything you needed to know without the use of words.

“Sweetheart, I would rather fight with you than take on another client.”

His words felt like they’d stolen your soul. Your bottom lip quivered just as a trembling sob had your body shaking. Satoru pulled you into his lap, toned arms wrapping around you as you straddled him. His large palm stroked the back of your head as your chest pressed firmly against his.

You tried not to cry, but the relief was too much. Soft sobs vibrated in your chest as your head buried itself deep into the crook of Satoru’s neck, your hot, joyful tears staining his shirt. Not once did Satoru attempt to move you. He did the opposite, pulling you tighter against him, his fingers curled into your hair, stroking your scalp as you sobbed.

Those few words meant the entire world to you. The doubts and fears eating away at you like moths on cloth ceased to exist. They were replaced with a swarm of multi-colored butterflies that flutter in your stomach and heart.

You could make this work.

Pulling away from Satoru’s neck, you reached up to wipe at your eyes, but Satoru gently batted your hands away. His thumbs brushed against your flushed skin, wiping away the tears of joy. His touch, much like his words, embodied his affection for you. That sweet gesture made you want to cry more, but you were confident that all the crying you'd done in the last eighteen hours had dried up your tear ducts.

“I want to make this work with you.” Satoru gently cupped the back of your head. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

”Thank you for apologizing.” You gently ran your fingers over the fabric of his shirt. “And for punching Toji, it was so hot seeing you get all mad.”

Satoru held you tight, flopping down onto the futon with a chuckle. “You thought I was hot? Imagine me coming back to get my sunglasses with my tail between my legs to see kitchen utensils being flung through the kitchen.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth. “Seeing you going feral, slapping and kicking at a man twice your size, got me all hot and bothered.” He nuzzled your neck with a very phony bad prono moan. “I’d let you hit me all you want; just tell me I’m a good boy when you do.” His lips peppered kisses up your neck before pressing against the corner of your mouth, winning a series of giggles from you.

“Toru, you’re crazy.” Your words held no heat as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Mhmm, I’m crazy about you.”

You ran your fingers through his hair before you pulled him in, kissing him softly. The tension in his muscles relaxed as he kissed back. His smooth lips gently moved against yours. Maybe your lips tingle because of the taste of his mint toothpaste, or it could be the spark between you. Little fireworks exploded over your lips, deep in your chest, and even further between your legs.

The same embers that had burned hot and bright inside of you last night began to glow red hot with need. Your hands roamed down from his hair to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as you turned your head. Satoru’s eyes opened, focusing on your face. The way your eyebrows knitted together, how flushed your face and chest were, and the subtle way you rocked your hips up against him.

He pulled back, panting heavily against your slightly ajared mouth. “Sweetie.” He breathed out.

“Sorry,” you released him, “sorry.” Now might not be the right time to lose yourself into passion. But before you could spiral into your thoughts, Satoru followed your retreating hands, gently holding them.

”I don’t want you to stop.” He placed one of your hands back on his shirt, and you instantly grabbed a hold of the fabric. “Just be aware of the effect that you have on me.” He took your free hand, pressing it against his semi-hard cock that was twitching to life in his pants.

A sudden burst of confidence took over you. Licking your lips, you gently began stroking him while you gripped his shirt as tight as you could. Satoru shuddered, pressing both his hands on either side of your head caging you underneath him. A string of soft, murmured cries of your name slipped through his lips as he bucked into your hand.

”You’re twitching so hard.”

”Can’t help it, a beautiful woman is rubbing my cock.”

Releasing his shirt, you ran your hand over his arm, gently grabbing his wrist. He perked up, putting all his weight on his left hand as you gently led his other past your breasts, down your stomach, before you pressed him firmly over your clothed pussy. “I'm twitching, too.” Satoru’s cock throbbed hard underneath your palm. “You okay?” an aching growl rose in his throat as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.

“Y-Yeah, I think I just almost came in my pants.”

“Over touching my pussy?”

“No, it's because of you.” Your hips jerked as he increased the pressure of his fingers. “You're so goddamn irresistible. I want to please you.” fingers rubbed faster, his lips trailing down your neck in open-mouthed kisses.”I want you to call out my name, to make you cum so hard you think you're about to ascend.”

“Oooh, oooh fuck.” Satoru sucked in a breath as you slid your hand into his boxers. “Toru~ Feels good.”

“Yeah, it d-does.” He choked out, sliding his hand under your panties. “Fuuck, you weren't kidding.” Thick long fingers ran over your clit, spreading your slick arousal over the tiny bundle of nerves. “You’re so wet.”

You shifted, facing him, “I wanna try something.” Satoru nodded, kissing you deeply as you both tugged your pants and underwear off, followed by shirts. Once you were bare, you slotted your hips over his legs, resting your legs on either side of him. “This way, I can kiss and touch you.” Your words cut off as Satoru slammed his lips against yours in a starved, searing kiss.

You kiss his back, moaning and gasping against his lips. He used the opportunity of you gasping to shove his tongue into your mouth. His tongue searched for yours, wrapping and massaging it with his own as his fingers groped your breasts. He still tasted like mint, and the smell of musk overwhelmed you as his fingers gently kneaded you. His hands are so warm and gentle against the softness of your breasts; it's a bold contrast to the way his mouth roughly moves against yours.

He’s devouring you, making you melt against his body. You wanted to make him feel the same way you did, warm and fuzzy. You desired for Satoru to be desperate, like a thirsty man dehydrated in the desert, and you were his oasis. Reaching between your bodies, you rubbed your fingers up and down your pussy, collecting your slick over them. Hering the pitch change in your voice, Satoru followed your hand. The instant he saw your pretty fingers rubbing yourself, he growled into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

”A-Are you that desperate for relief?” Satoru sighed heavily against your lips, tongue flicking out, licking at the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “All you have to do is ask, and I’ll rub that perfect pussy~”

“I-I—oooh god,” you rubbed your clit in a short circle before dipping your hand back down, collecting more of your slick. “n-not doing it for my sake.”

”No?” Satoru nipped gently at your bottom lip, his hands massaging the fat of your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Then please tell me whose sake you’re doing it for.”

”Yours.”

Before Satoru could ask what you meant, he jumped as you wrapped your slick fingers around his thick throbbing cock. His head falls back as you begin rubbing your hand up and down his shaft, jerking him off, using your slick as lube. Feeling the heat from your juices and hand had Satoru losing himself, just like you wanted. He melted, his hands shakily grabbed you in order to ground himself as you jerked your wrist up and down faster.

”Feels good,” He groaned out, his hand dipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit. “but it’s not fair if I’m the only one feeling good now.” The tiniest moan passes through your pursed lips; your eyes meet him as you try to focus on keeping your hand moving up and down over his cock. But damn, his hands were too talented, it was hard to keep up with him. “God, you’re so wet just for me. If it feels this amazing on my fingers,” His hand dips further, two of his fingers pressing their way past your tight entrance and into your dripping cunt. “I can’t imagine how good it feels to be buried inside you.”

His fingers curl, rubbing your spongy sweet spot. They massage it, not stopping as you cry out softly against his mouth, your eyes narrowing as you stare into his eyes. They were usually full of light, but with his fingers buried inside of you and your hand wrapped around his cock, they were full of dark, desperate desire. If you were to move a certain way or make a single sound, he would be inside of you in the blink of an eye.

Which wasn’t a bad thing.

His lips were on yours, his moans flooding inside your mouth as you teased the tip of his dick with your thumb. Rubbing the pre-cum beading at the slit around the red swollen tip. Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed at the intense pleasure, his thumb mimicking the same pattern and strokes of your hand against your twitching clit. It didn’t take long for you to start rocking your hips against his hand, chasing your orgasm. Noticing the way you greedily fucked yourself on his fingers, Satoru pulled back, watching your hips rolling against him, desperately chasing the high you felt coming.

”What a good girl you are, taking what you want, what you need. I fucking love that.” A deep sigh escaped him, his breath fanning against your lips. “I love it, watching you lose all fucking control, it gets me off.” His cock twitched in your hand, emphasizing his point. “If you make yourself cum hard, I promise you I’ll make you cum ten times harder on my dick.” Satoru feels your walls flutter around his fingers. “You like the idea of that? Your pretty cunt seems to, she’s squeezing around me.”

”Y-Yeah, I want you, Satoru, want to feel you inside of me so back.”

”Cum for me first, then I’ll be sure to give you everything you want.”

You press your lips messily over his. “You promise? Promise you’ll give me everything I want?” His forehead presses against yours, his bangs sticking against your sweet sheen skin. “Promise?” You whine out desperately.

”Sweetheart, I promise I’ll give you everything you want and then some.”

Those positive affirmations were all you needed to have you gushing over his fingers. You silently scream against his lips, eyes clenched tight as you rocked and roll your hips against him. Satoru takes note of how your lips quiver and the way your back arches, pressing your breasts against his bare chest. Noting the way you sounded, how pretty you looked when you shattered and trembled in his lap as your hand squeezed his dick almost too hard as you let the waves of your orgasm hit you one after another.

Watching you cum in his lap would be a memory he’d look back on on lonely nights. God, he wanted to cum with you, to paint your tummy white with his hot seed. But the urge to pin you underneath him, you fuck you slowly, was stronger. Satoru wanted to have you cum that hard around his cock. To watch as you lose yourself in pure bliss because you deserve to. God, you deserved more than that, but this would be a good start.

He fully intended to make you feel this good as long as you would allow him.

When you found the strength to open your eyes slowly, you caught a glimpse of blue. Satoru had you pushed back on the futon, his fingers sliding out of you. His lips gently roamed over your breasts, kissing the mounds before his hands forced your legs apart. “Please tell me you still have that party favor bag.” He breathed out over your skin.

”You seriously think I would throw my terrible cheap penis candy away?” Satoru chuckled, lifting his head to watch you snatch a pink bag lying off to the side of you. “You'd be right; I fully intend on throwing it away once we use the condoms.”

“I have to admit, knowing you won’t be eating penis candy makes me feel pretty good.” He opened the bag, pulling out the six condoms shoved inside of it.

“I’m not opposed to eating penis candy if it tastes good.” A white brow arches at you. “I mean, I sucked yours last night, didn’t I?” You smirk as he fumbles, nearly dropping the foil packages in his hand. “I clearly remember just how sweet you tasted. Although I may need a reminder soon to confirm.”

”Babe, please, you’re going to make me blow my load before I even get inside of you.”

You watch as he tosses the other condoms to the side before ripping open the gold foil of a magnum condom with his teeth. ”Oooh, right, yeah.” Swallowing hard, you gape when Satoru rolls the condom over his cock with ease.

He slowly pushed his hips against yours, grinding his cock over your entrance to your clit. “Do you remember what I said to you our first night here at the inn?” Your soft moans are music to his ears as he grinds against you faster. “After you told me why you didn’t need to have sex?” Right now wasn't the time you wanted to be quizzed over things he said four days ago.

“Haah, fuck—uhm, you said you hoped that I would be able to recover soon?” His cock head pressed firmly against your entrance. “Nggh, I—I can’t remember. It’s hard to think when you’re teasing me like this.”

” No, you’re right. I did say I hoped you would recover.” His tip pressed harder against you, making your legs shake. “But I also said I wanted you to be able to have the most mind-blowing sex of your life.” The world seemed to slow as the gentleness of his words had you blinking. “I never thought I would be the one you’d be with.”

Something about the softness of his voice and the way he lovingly brushed his thumb over your bottom lip had your heart racing. This moment felt surreal as you replayed that first night again in your head. How you had cried in front of the escort you had hired to be your wedding date. He could have easily pushed you away, cringed over your complicated past, or not given a shit.

Instead, he hugged you and stroked your hair as you cried. He listened to you and allowed you to vent. This man went as far as defending you, siding with you. Satoru had held you close, bringing a certain comfort to your life you'd never felt before. It was a perfect full circle.

“I wouldn't want to be with anyone but you, Toru.” Gently cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him down, kissing him as passionately as you could. The warmth of your touch and the brush of your lips against his own made Satoru swell with excitement before shifting into a calmness that worked through him. “I need you.” You gasped out against his swollen lips.

“Then you’ll have me.”

Not wanting to waste another moment, Satoru gently pushed the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. You gasped against his lips, eyes wide as he stretched you. His ab’s clenched as he held himself back, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, as his lips gently moved over your cheeks. Only when he felt your walls unclench and your legs wrap around did he begin pushing back inside of you.

Satoru couldn't get over how tight you felt wrapped around him, how warm you were. He'd slept with his fair share of people, but this, the feeling of slowly slipping inside of you for the first time, was a moment he'd never forget. From the way you smelt and how your hot breath tickled his ear. The sensation of your finger scratching gently over his undercut would forever linger because he didn't want this to be the first or last time he buried himself inside of you.

No, he wanted you to be the only person he was this intimate with again. He could easily see himself feeling this profound, this drunk off of joy and excitement each time you slept together. Satoru wanted to only hear his name on your tongue from now on.

While you couldn't read his mind or feel the emotions that course through every being of his soul, you felt the same way. Being with Satoru like this just felt right. No doubt, no uncertainty sat at the pit of your stomach. Just excitement and joy. Like you were walking a tightrope without the fear of falling.

This was perfection.

“Y-You're so tight.” Satoru choked out with a laugh as he pushed further inside of you with a whine. “Oooh, so fucking tight, baby.”

“Y-Yeah~ you're so big, really big.” Your breath chokes out as he slides deeper inside. “Haaa-haaah.” You dig your heels into his ass, pushing him further inside of your tight heat.

“N-Nnngh fuck, someone's getting impatient.”

“I can't help it, I-I want it, I want you so fucking bad.”

Satoru grunts softly, his tongue flicking over your bottom lip before hems slowly pulling out of you. “I want it too, baby.” He slowly slides back in, angling his hips to rub perfectly over that sweet spot inside of you. “And I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” His tongue gently slid past your slightly parted lips as he set a smooth and gentle pace.

You kiss back softly, flicking your tongue over his as his cock fucks you gently into the bedding. Your mind is reeling, taking over every one of your five senses, from his taste and smell. How his groans and grunts sound in your ears. You could feel his muscles twitching as his cock slowly bullied its way over your g-spot before pressing gently over your cervix. But it was the way he looked at you that genuinely had your heart stammering. Satoru was looking at you with a certain softness as his face contorted with pleasure.

You whimpered as he smiled, planting kisses down your neck, gently suckling at it. Satoru put all the emotions in his chest into those gentle, tender kisses. Savoring the way you jerked and squirmed as he gently fucked into your cunt. He suffocates on the delectable addictive air that was you. You take his breath away with every tear-filled glance into his eyes; every gasp and cry is music to his ears. So, of course, he’s lost his grip of control. Grabbing both your hands, he pinned them on either side of your head, his fingers interlacing with them as he moved at a faster pace.

“Ah—hah Toru,” you squeeze his hands, “Satorru~!” Crying out against Satoru’s mouth, you squeeze your thighs around him. Seeing you this fucked out of your mind as he fucked his thick cock deeper inside of you, only had Satoru moving faster.

“Ooh baby~ fuck~ fuuuuck~ you're getting close. I can feel it.” He grunts through gritted teeth. “You’re squeezing my cock just like you were squeezing my fingers.”

“Mmm yeah, M’ close Toru~!” You almost lose it as he grinds into you, his hips rubbing over your sensitive clit as his cock massages your sweet spots deep inside of you.

His grip on your hand tightens as he hisses, cock throbbing. “Oooh fuck, yeah baby, make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me.” One messy kiss followed by another. “Fuck~! Fuuuuck, I'm close too, gonna cum inside your tight hole~!” Nails dig into the back of his hands as your pussy clenched and twitches around him. “Yeah~ your pussy is so good~ telling me she likes what I’m saying. You want me to cum, yeah~?” Throw your head back, and you cry softly at the coil forming in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah wanna, wanna cum together~! Wanna—-ooooh god fuck me!” Satoru watched your eyes shut, tight eyebrows knitting together. He grinds his hips harder against your clit, buffs of deep growls leaving his mouth as his balls clench.

“Cum on my cock sweetheart~ yeah~ oooh fuck me yes!”

“Cu—” A scream of unfiltered ecstasy cuts off your words. Satoru watches you as you squirt over his crotch and the sheets beneath you both. “Ah!! Haaah!!”

Your trashing and shaking drives Satoru up the fucking wall. He frees your hands, gripping your hips, lifting them slightly so he can continuously fuck into your g-spot. Your legs shake aggressively as you fist the sheets. Your body was vibrating, eyes watering as you cum for a third time, watching as clear liquid soaks Satoru’s hips before you see white.

“Haa, fuck~ fuck~ fuck—” his head tips forward, watching his cock disappear inside of your convulsing pussy. “Cu-Cummin!” He bit out. “Cumming! Cumming!!” He doesn't scream like you, but he roars like a fucking beast. “Graahk! Fuuuck! Fuck!! Take it! Take all of my cum!”

You’re so sensitive it almost hurts to have Satoru thrusting himself inside you. He doesn't stop until his hips stop moving on their own, and the condom between you is filled to the brim. Only at that point does he gently pull out of you, grimacing as you wince in pained pleasure.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks as he takes the condom off, tying it to throw it in the trash can near the bed.

“I-I’m so good.” You drunkenly slur, but you haven't had a sip of alcohol. “Oh my god, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my entire life.”

You could see Satoru swell with pride as he headed to the bathroom. “I guess my wish for you did come true.” You can hear the water running before he comes back. “How was the mind-blowing sex?”

“Confident in yourself?”

“I don't mean to come off as an arrogant ass.” He shrugs a shoulder as he drops to his knees gently, wiping your thighs and pussy clean with the warm rag in his hand. “But I'm ninety-five percent sure I saw your soul leave your body.”

“Okay! Okay!” You sputtered out a laugh as he wiped himself clean before lying beside you, pulling you into his side with a satisfied hum. “Okay, the mind-blowing sex was—” your eyes trailed up to his face, “well mind-blowing!”

“Ah~” he blows against his trimmed nails, “way to go, Satoru~” and rubs nails over his pectoral muscle.

“You dork!” you playfully smack his arm, “that was so uncool. Like the uncoolest thing to do.”

Satoru was beaming with joy as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You sighed, missing him back roughly before pulling away with a happy hum. “Still uncool?”

“Super uncool.”

“Worth a shot.”

You lay there, tracing shapes over Satoru’s chest. “Hey, Toru?” you asked, turning your head to study his perfect face. You were surprised to see him watching you, his blue eyes tracing over the curves of your body, to the way your finger drew invisible hearts over him.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“What are you doing this Saturday?” You swore the man underneath you twisted faster than the speed of light. There was a certain glimmer of excitement in his eyes that had your heart fluttering like the butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, I did have this client, but I was dumb enough to cancel on them, so my Saturday is free!”

“Good,” you kissed the tip of his nose, “would you like to be my wedding date?”

“I would love to be your wedding date.”

Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@arminloverlol l @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe e @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart t @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 5 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovley212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator r @bloopsstuff @pepepepepopopopo @pandoness @sw33cadav3r @rixo-19 @meguvmii @sxnkuna @mmeerraa @lemonintrovert01 @bunny-lily @kibananya @kamastar39 @rjreins @lzaj19 @tiredflame132 @manyno @oliiper @rengokushair @simp-plague @matchalatte06 @haesify @majanggeum @solarrexplosion N@tbzzluvr @username23345 @demonboyssss @sakui1

[saetoru]

i just know the next time you see suguru he’s like “oh hey! it’s the guy/girl who unfollowed me! fancy seeing you here 😒” because he’s just as petty as satoru’s ass. best friend match made in heaven 💀

i’m writing this for the sake of fun i’m not tagging (bc how do you tag platonic shit ??) but yeah … platonic! suguru + reader ft. rb! gojo (briefly)

seeing suguru is….well, awkward to say the least.

you hope for a moment that maybe he’ll ignore the fact that you removed him off of everything—instagram, twitter, snapchat, even venmo (he and satoru had a good laugh about that, much to your dismay.) but suguru is suguru and there is a reason why he gets along so well with satoru—and that’s because they’re equally as petty.

unfortunately.

“oh, hey,” he drawls, staring at his nails as his lips purse when you walk up, “it’s you. where do i know you from again? oh, right. i used to follow you on socials, didn’t i? yeah, that was a while ago. how’ve you been, stranger?”

“suguru, it’s been eight days,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“oh so we’re on first name basis? i didn’t realize��most of the people i’m on first name basis with follow me.”

“i didn’t have a choice,” you pout—and satoru (who for once doesn’t defend you) makes himself present from the distance as he calls out you definitely had a choice!

you sigh, deflating.

“i’m sorry i removed you from instagram,” you mumble. suguru raises a brow, unimpressed. “and twitter. and snap.”

“and?” he presses, making you huff in embarrassment and satoru chuckle in glee.

“….and venmo,” you say quietly. suguru snorts—it’s a good sign, at least.

“what was i gonna do? message you on venmo? please send me money for breaking my friend’s heart,” he mocks, making you pout deeper. yeah, you think, satoru and suguru are a match made in heaven—maybe satoru should date him instead of you.

“it’s not like i wanted to,” you say quietly, “i was in a tough spot.”

suguru is good natured, always has been. you used to think that being satoru’s best friend since childhood would make him susceptible to blindly picking your boyfriend’s side—but he’s not like that. he’s reasonable, defends you when he sees fit even if it means disagreeing with satoru. and he’s kind, dependable, treats you like family, looks out for you just like he does satoru.

suguru isn’t just your boyfriend’s best friend—he’s more than that to you. and when his face softens at your dejected one, you know he feels the same way.

“i know,” he says gently, flicking your forehead with that affectionate smile he always throws you, “that old man had it out for you. but i didn’t do anything. why did i have to get roped in?”

“glad to know you’d still follow my ex if we broke up,” satoru grumbles from the side, walking up to you both with a pile of sweets in his hands (which is an ungodly amount for just one person—and you know he intends to eat it all alone.)

“well, i didn’t want to make toru more sad,” you defend, “he seemed to be pretty in his feels. marvin’s room said enough.”

“i was about to remove him too after that one,” suguru crinkles his nose—which only makes satoru whine more about how you both can’t be mean together now! and how his feelings are still sensitive!

“that was terrible,” you snort, agreeing.

“anyway, can i maybe get my follow privileges back,” suguru raises a brow expectantly, crossing his arms, “you guys are back together and you still haven’t added me on anything. that’s foul.”

“i was nervous,” you defend through a whine, “what if you were mad?”

“i am mad,” he grumbles, “i was innocent.”

“i’m sorry suguru,” you pat his arm, “you’re right, it’s not your fault you’re stuck with satoru. he has no other friends.”

“huh? i have shoko!” satoru insists, gasping, “and nanami! and—”

“you’re right,” suguru sighs and nods, cutting satoru off, “if i drop him, he’ll be a loner. i’m stuck.”

satoru looks wounded. maybe heartbroken all over again, in fact. “wha—hey! you totally said i’m better off when i was first dumped! why are you acting like—”

“you and i are kind of the same,” you sigh playfully, “stuck with satoru for good. we’ll need to be each other’s support systems. rough times are ahead.”

“we can start with following each other back on socials, maybe,” he huffs, making you giggle lightly. and then he smiles, bringing you into a gentle hug, “glad you’re back. missed you.”

“thanks,” you mumble, “i missed you too.”

“can i join the hug?” satoru whines from behind, “i was the real victim here!”

suguru is so babie. bestest friend ever.

[pedroshotwifey]

To The Flame chapter nine

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark Javier Peña x Fem!reader

Chapter word count: 2.1k

Chapter tags/warnings: fluff, angst, manipulation, anxiety

Chapter summary: Making this move is going to be tougher than you thought...

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm super excited because after this, things are going to get real dark real quick. We can really see some of the first big bits of manipulation here. I already have so many deliciously dark scenes written, and I can't wait to share!

****

The next couple of days are chaotic, full of making arrangements for flights, organizing through all of your possessions, and figuring out what bills need to be discontinued. It’s a lot to handle, but Javi takes it in stride, making sure you don’t have too much to worry about. 

He handles most of the interactions and arrangements when he’s not working, leaving you to get the little things done. Even though you’re not tasked with much, it’s still extra stressful to deal with after just having moved a few weeks prior.

You barely have any time together since Javi’s running around trying to get everything done in time, so you savor the moments when your schedules actually align. It’s mostly at night, after he gets home, and the two of you will eat dinner together and then do whatever you have the energy for. 

Today’s the first day he’s been given off since he found out about the promotion, and if everything goes according to plan, he should be off until the move. The two of you have gotten everything you’d needed to do today knocked off the list, and decided that you deserve a bit to relax instead of more packing. 

You both sat and watched TV for the better half of the day, all the fans on and the windows open in an attempt to cool off. The house is fucking sweltering thanks to having to cancel the A/C. It’s one of the hottest days you’ve had all year, because that figures. 

Both you and Javi have peeled off your shirts, leaving you in your bra and shorts, and him in his usual jeans. Despite the lingering looks thrown each other’s way, you both know it’s too hot to engage in celebratory activities right now. 

Javi’s on the phone in the living room while you prep some sandwiches for lunch to use the rest of what you have in the fridge. It’s likely that the next few days will be filled with an ungodly amount of fast food and diners. 

You finish putting the sandwiches together and slip back into the living room with two plates, handing one to Javi as he hangs it back up on the reciever. 

“Here you go baby.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Javi smiles at you. 

You take a seat next to him on the couch and the two of you eat in silence, too tired to have much to say. You’re both off in your own worlds, you thinking about what you have left on your checklist; sort through clothes, pack pictures, get the dishes organized, call your sister. 

You stop on that one, resisting the urge to cringe. You haven’t called her since you moved, and she has no way of getting to you. You feel like a coward but you almost don’t want to face her. You’ve done nothing wrong, and yet you almost feel like you’d abandoned her and moved on. 

You know she wouldn’t think that, but it’s still a nagging concern in the back of your mind. What would you even say? Just tell her that you’re moving? You don’t know your address for Columbia yet, but the least you could do is let her know what’s going on. 

You finish your sandwich and sigh, making Javi glance your way. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, just tired,” you tell him after a second, deciding you don’t really want to explain the way your entire thought process just went. 

“I’m sorry, baby. We could take a nap if you want?” 

You smile at him. “ I Might have to take you up on that in a minute.” 

You gesture for his empty plate and he hands it to you, offering to do the dishes instead. You, of course, shoot him down. It doesn’t take you long, but you’re able to convince yourself to bite the bullet as you’re sticking the plates in the drying rack. 

You walk into the hall with the phone, drying your hands on your shorts as you go. Javi’s brows furrow as he watches you pick it up. 

“What are you doing?” 

You pause on dialing and look up at him to where he’s still sat on the couch. 

“I’m going to try to get a hold of my sister to tell her we’re moving.” 

Javi sits up a bit, suddenly more energetic than he has been all day. “You can do that later, can’t you? Come see me.” He flips his palm up and reaches for you the tiniest bit. You smile warmly at him. 

“Just give me one second, it’ll be quick,” you tell him. He frowns. 

“I’ll be quick too. Just a kiss?” He smiles hopefully up at you and you melt a bit before giving in. 

“Alright, just a kiss, no more, you bad man,” you laugh at him as his smile widens the closer you get. 

You lean down to meet his lips, and then you’re being pulled forward, giggling as you land in his lap. His mouth immediately finds yours as he pulls you into him, trapping your body against his. 

“Baby,” you laugh, trying to pull away. “I’ve got to call her!” 

Javi hums to signify that he heard you, but doesn’t let up from the sloppy kisses he’s planting on your neck and chest. You can’t help the small moan that slips as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot. 

“M, Javi, I’m being serious honey,” you try again. “I need to get in touch with her before they cut off our service.” You try to push yourself up, but his arms tangle more tightly around you. 

“Javi, quit,” you’re not joking around anymore. You’re a little concerned that the service is going to be cut off sometime today, since it was the day you were supposed to pay for it. You’ve already put off calling your sister for too long just out of nerves, and now you don’t want to miss your chance. 

You push against him, trying to pry his arms away, and this, combined with the seriousness ebbing into your tone, finally catches his attention. He looks up at you, a slight pout on his full lips. 

“I just need to let her know,” you say, waiting for him to loosen his grip, but he only sighs. 

“Honestly, I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” he admits, looking at you with genuine concern. 

You frown, a bit taken aback. 

“What do you mean?” 

He sighs again and looks down past you, almost like he’s getting ready to explain something to a small child. You don’t like the way it makes you feel like such. You’ve noticed recently that he has a tendency to make you feel like a kid, though you don’t think it’s intentional. The age gap definitely doesn’t help either. It makes you worry sometimes that you’re too immature for him, even though you know you’re not in the slightest. 

“I don’t think you should tell anyone you’re leaving,” he explains. 

“What? Why? She’s my sister, she deserves to know.” You have no idea where this is coming from. You’ve told him about your relationship with your sister, how it’s nothing like your connection with your parents. 

“Can you really trust her not to tell your parents though? Or them to not listen in? They don’t need to know your address.”

You shift uncomfortably in his lap, getting agitated with his protests. 

“Javi, I’ll literally be in a different country, I don’t think it matters even if they do.” 

His lips press into a thin line and breathes deeply through his nose. He unwraps his arms from around you to place his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he looks back into your eyes. 

“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s my job. My superiors want me to limit who knows our address, especially if it’s not someone we can completely trust.” 

Your stomach sinks at this. It makes sense, and you don’t want to do anything that could jeopardize his position, but leaving your sister with no explanation? She’s done nothing to deserve that. 

“But I–” 

He cuts you off with a pointed stare, his jaw ticking slightly. 

“I’m not asking for much here. It’s just one thing. You really can’t do that?” 

Your ears heat with shame as you swallow down bile rising into your mouth. You cast your gaze down so you don’t have to look at him with your embarrassment. You’re being selfish again, and you both know it.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” you apologize quietly through the lump in your throat. 

Javi’s hand comes to your chin, raising your eyes back to his and seeing the sheen in them. He tuts sympathetically and cradles your head to his chest, petting your hair in a soothing motion. 

“I know it’s hard, honey. I’m sorry it has to be like this.” 

You nod into his shirt, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your efforts to keep them in. You feel extremely overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

He hushes you and lets you cry silently into his chest, whispering encouragement as he rocks you gently. 

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

And you know you will be, it just doesn’t seem like it right now. 

*****

You have pretty much everything else packed within the next few days. It was honestly miserable having to put everything away after you’d just put it out, both in a physical and emotional sense. You don’t know how many times you had to remind yourself that you were doing this for Javi, that he deserved it. 

That fact definitely softened the blow, but not enough so that the sadness was completely snuffed. And now knowing that you’ll have to pretty much cut contact with your sister, who is also your only friend, it’s been a hard pill to swallow. It’s going to be hard leaving everything behind, but you’re willing to do it for your husband. Hell, he’s the one that got you here in the first place—it’s the least you could do. 

You leave for Columbia tomorrow, most of your stuff already in the process of being moved to the apartment Javi was assigned to. Well, most of the stuff you were able to move anyway. You’ve had to pick and choose what you want to bring with you, and what needs to stay at the old house for storage. The apartment isn’t very large, so there’s no way to take everything. Another thing that saddens you. 

You’d picked through all of your clothes and decided to put all your dresses into a box for storage and take everything else. There’s no sense in bringing them since you’ll likely not have a need for them. There’s only a couple that you stuffed in with everything else, just in case. You’re also bringing your books, some photos, and some sentimental things from your childhood. 

Javi’s bringing about the same. Just his everyday clothes, a suit or two, and some of his personal items. It all got loaded onto a little trailer, and Javi took it either to the old house or to the airport. 

You’re left now with just the bare minimum in the house. A few kitchen items, the couch that you won’t be able to move, and the mattress that you’ll be taking tomorrow. You’re both laying on that now, you with a book in your hand, and Javi reading through some paperwork. 

He received his assignments a couple of days ago, and he’s been looking through to memorize most of the important stuff. It sounds like there’s going to be a lot less office work in his future.

You put your book down, huffing a dramatic sigh. 

“Javi?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m bored.” 

He puts his paperwork down, rubs his eyes, and purses his lips at you. 

You smile at him, and he can’t resist the way his lips tug up as well. You crawl over to him, situating yourself into his side, and hand your book to him. 

“Read to me.” 

He sighs at you but takes the book. 

“I’m probably going to be slow.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“Alright, fine. You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

You smile wider, snuggling further into his body as he clears his throat and picks up from the page you left off on. Your eyes close as you listen to the sound of his gravelly voice somehow smoothing out as he gets into the groove of the love story. 

Before long, your eyes start to get heavy and you have to actively resist the urge to fall asleep. He’s not even a chapter in when you’re lulled to sleep by his voice and the ceiling fan running in the background.

**** Hope you enjoyed this chapter! It wasn't my favorite but some of these next ones are, so stay tuned 😈

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog

[widevibratobitch]

Ok. Any "Terror" fic recommendations?

good lord YES countless really. idk what you're looking for specifically though.

i myself am a fitzier girlie first and foremost with some occasional fitzconte thrown in. i'll best direct you to my ao3 bookmarks, specifically to the tag i keep for my personal favourites, the crème de la crème of fics I've read and liked.

some examples under the cut.

i am a connoisseur of ✨fitzier hatesex✨ and there's surprisingly not that many of those compared to fics where they're all lovey-dovey with each other (which. dont get me wrong. i also enjoy from time to time). so i'll give you some that have truly stuck with me. it's mostly pwp sorry not sorry.

Some lovely perilous thing by cosmogram

“Oh,” James gasps, and really, it’s almost too easy. James ought to have some modicum of shame, ought to be able to master himself better than this—better than turning to a doe-eyed dissolute the second a man so much as breathes near his eager young cock. “Not here, Francis,” James pants out, voice already hitching high. “The great cabin, at the very least.”

“Here, I think,” Francis returns crisply. “On your knees.”

it's just so fucking good. very hot. i honestly don't know what else i could say about this, it's one of my personal favourites amongst personal favourites (along with the one i link next, from the same author).

Devotion by cosmogram

Francis does not seek him anymore, but neither—still worse—does Francis bother to dismiss him when James arrives of his own volition, each time with all the hope of the most wretched fool. “Oh, get to it, then,” Francis muttered with sublime disinterest that very day when James appeared in his cabin’s doorway. James had, in fact, come to talk—but he had not hesitated when Francis gestured dispassionately to the front of his trousers. He had dropped, wordlessly, to his knees to obey.

everyone give it up for erectile dysfunction! hip-hip hurray! the author sums it up well with the James Fitzjames’s Tragically Unmet Praise Kink tag. this one is a little more on the sad side, Francis is being a goddamn gremlin and James is at his most needy and pathetic. nothing hotter to me personally than sucking someone's limp dick and crying about it. i find myself thinking about this fic an ungodly amount. i love it so much. again, best of the best of the best.

nice dream by icicaille

Francis swirled the last dregs in his glass and peered into its depths. Some kind of grim satisfaction had come over him. “I’ll tell you what you want to hear,” he said. “For a certain price.” It was foolhardy beyond measure. Damning, even.

basically, Fitzjames gives Crozier a blowjob in exchange for Francis telling him some nice reassuring things he needs to hear so badly it makes him look stupid - malicious compliance from Francis of course with some nice internalised homophobia. James is, again, pathetic as all shit with a little twist at the end. no one is having a good time except for me of course.

hunger's vocabulary by icicaille

“Ah, Sir John.” Francis cleared his throat once the wardroom was near to empty. “May I borrow James? Regarding the Lloyd’s balance. We took readings that require further inspection. I’ll send him back in a gig—tonight if the weather holds, in the morning otherwise.”

chef's kiss. just two cunty cunts going at it (the dialogues are so good...) with a sprimkle of some angsty self-loathing Francis. what more could you ask for.

you are coming down with me by dazydaisy

Chapter one: “If I loved you I could perhaps fuck you as if I hated you, in order to please you, but, as you are surely aware by now Fitzjames, you and love are oil and water to me.”

Chapter two: ‘Maybe,’ James had begun to unlace the front of his trousers with a carelessness he had (shamefully) practiced, ‘if you loved yourself even a little you would be able to stop yourself from doing as I command. But, as I’m sure you know by now Francis, you and love are like oil and water. The two simply do not meet.’

*

Mum and dad are fighting again

pretty much what it says on the tin. just two heartbroken bitches fucking and being cruel to each other and im eating that shit up thanks

A Willing Foe and Sea-Room by ClutchHedonist

“Nnh.” Fitzjames whines around his thumb.

“None of that. Clearly, you can’t shut your own bloody mouth to save your life.” Francis huffs, “So I’ll shut it for you.”

pre-canon. Fitzjames - still as a baby lieutenant - and Crozier have a brief but very hot encounter during some Admiralty Party.

Caïssa by cosmogram

“You said you had a question,” Francis snapped, irritable already.

“Yes,” James said, flushed and resplendent still from the company next door—undaunted and loose-limbed in just the way that plucked cloying ire from a raw place in Francis. “How’s your chess game?”

A seduction.

a little bonus to the list, because i love this fic and it recently updated after a very long hiatus (it's still a wip tho but i hope the author manages to finish it, they're one of my favourite writers in this fandom). no hatesex here, it's more of a slow-burn with past Crozier/Ross and really great dialogues, as always. Neptune also makes an appearance.

Bespoke by ktula

James is trying to escape his grief after Sir John's death. Francis, in his own way, is trying to do the same. OR: The one where James Fitzjames has a bit of the genders, and his captain is surprisingly accommodating of that.

ending this rec list on a kinder and softer note, as a treat. this was one of the first fics ive read in this fandom and still one of my favourites. not really hate sex though they're still rather uncertain and wary about the other. very good, very sensual, gender-heavy. beautiful fic really.

BONUS have some excellent fitzjames/le vesconte and fitzjames/franklin - as a treat.

you don't have friends (you have admirers) by JamesFitzjames

James Fitzjames is a man who does not seek help.

each chapter deals with something different, so while the fic is unfinished it's not really some painful cliffhanger (tho i would love to see it completed one day). second chapter is some excellent, excellent Fitzconte. last chapter also has, why, of course, some really delightful ✨fitzier hatesex✨.

Hoo-ray and up she rises by TheGreenMeridian

They’re rip-roaringly drunk and laughing loud enough at each other to wake half the neighbourhood as they stumble into their lodgings.

i only like Fitzconte if it's done in a very specific way and this fic fits my needs just perfectly. just two besties being sillayyyy. what, like you never gave your bro a handjob just for shits and giggles?

Whatever morning brings by isamariposa

Brutus spends his life torn between disquiet, distaste and desperate pining for Caesar, leading to his infamous betrayal. In his own final moments, he raises a plea: “Jupiter Maximus, take pity on me. If by Your grace there is a way to atone for what I did to him, I beg You: let me do so in the afterlife.”

His wish is granted.

yes, yes, this is technically an HBO Rome fic but each chapter deals with a different time period - the third is dedicated to The Terror and can totally be read on its own. it's some truly excellent Sir John/Fitzjames with a sprimkle of some delightful Fitzconte tomfoolery. It's really, really good.

okay one last BONUS

devourer of debts by allmyloyaldead(van1lla_v1lla1n)

Cornelius Hickey receives, and devours, and adapts.

What Hickey receives from the universe and what he takes for himself, the pieces with which he sews himself together into a man, or something like one.

some incredible Hickey insanity. truly brilliant. the gifts Hickey receives from Billy, Irving and Fitzjames, short and sweet (by sweet i obviously mean gruesome and fucked up <3)

[rags-writes]

Fandom: Call of Duty

Paring: Konig x Reader

Tags/Warning: Rated M, mutual pining, brief mention of sexual content

Requested by @apollodarling-writes (for whatever reason it not letting tag your main page.)

A/N: So part of your request was that they are on the team but when I start this, I had a fever of like 102 point something so I forgot that part of it, sorry. I also can't think of a title for it at the moment, but hopefully, I'll think of one soon.

Summary: After a mission, you find yourself unable to sleep, so a quick trip to steal Ghost's tea should help you fall asleep unless you run into another masked giant who had been plaguing your mind.

Ao3 link.

Untitled (Konig x Reader)

You let out a frustrated groan as you toss again in your bed, struggling to fall asleep. Despite your exhaustion from the mission, not just a few hours prior. You hoped you’d passed out when your head hit the pillow, every cell in your body called out for sleep, and yet you glance at the clock. The red numbers stare back mockingly as another minute passes, then another. Your mind can't seem to stay still, jumping from one thought to another without processing the first.

 Slamming your fist against the mattress, you sit up and slide out of the bed. Deciding you were going to raid Ghost's tea stash for some chamomile tea. You're soundless as you move through the hall passing the doors of your fellow soldiers. You can hear soap snoring as you pass his room. Reaching the kitchen, the light already shining out into the hall, stepping in, you spy the man you plan to steal from.

 "What are you planning, Ece?" Ghost asks without turning around. You come up beside him and reach up into the cupboard, mockingly telling him.

 "Stealing tea from a brit."

 He just scoffs at you, and you bring down a mug, he passes the kettle he was using for his tea. As you fill your mug, Ghost grabs the tea bags and hands you one before asking. "What's got you up?"

 "Never went down." You reply as you place the tea bag in the mug and Ghost passes you a timer, but you don’t take it. instead, you dip the teabag in and out of your mug as the masked man glares at you then he calls out.

 "Not surprising the giant kept you up since his team is leaving in the morning."

 Your head snaps towards him, brow raises gasping out. "What are you talking about?"

 You see his eyes roll before he says. "König, the man you’ve been undressing with your eyes since day one of our joined mission, and Soap said he overheard you invited him to your room."

 You scoff at his accusation but deep inside you knew he was right; hell, it was the main reason you couldn’t fall asleep tonight. Wondering if you were doing something wrong or if simply you weren’t attractive to him. You’ve tried everything you could think of to get the tall, masked man's attention but nothing seems to work. everything seems to chase the man away, but you didn’t want Ghost to know, so you snippily tell him. "Sorry, I’m not like you, who stares at a certain Scotsman's ass."

 He just gives you a blank look and slowly raises his hand and flips you the bird. He lifts his mask to his nose and takes a drink of his tea. While he didn’t say anything, his body language does, and you shake under the interrogation before you break. "Simon, do you think I’m pretty?"

 Ghost’s head falls back as he sighs, he rolls his neck to face you and you hold back a giggle at how silly he looks with his mask bunched up on his nose. His dead eyes stare you down and tell you. "Yes, and he is interested too. I think you need to make the first move although."

 You try and fail not to look too excited by his statement, his lips quirking up at you, scoffing at the brit, you grab the sugar. Pouring an ungodly amount in the mug, seeing his lip twitch downward, smirking at him before telling Ghost. "By the way, your boyfriend was snoring, you should go and cuddle with him to make him stop."

 Ghost just takes a long sip of his mug before turning around and walking out of the kitchen but before he disappears, he calls out. "At least I got laid tonight."

 You flip him the bird again, but he is already gone, grabbing a spoon from a drawer and milk from the fridge. Stirring the tea as you add milk your mind wanders to the giant man who has been plaguing your mind all night.

 You thought you were subtle but direct with him earlier when you basically invited him to your room but maybe you were too subtle. Ghost wouldn't lie to you, and he does notice things fast than others unless it comes to himself of course. Still, maybe he was wrong, that itself could soothe the disappointment, maybe.

 You stop stirring and pick up the mug and take a sip, deeming it right. The milk cools it enough to be drinkable without burning your mouth and you make your way out of the kitchen. You walk down the hall, both hands on the mug, sipping the tea as exhaustion creeps back up on you. It explains why you didn't see the large shadow walking toward you.

***

 König tries his best to keep as still as possible but either his leg or hand would begin to twitch. His mind was a different matter altogether, as soon as he quieted it, your voice would hit him like a bullet, or he'll remember your hand on his thigh during a meeting. When the restless shaking of his leg would bug you but unlike others, you wouldn't just simply tell him to stop.

 Oh no, you would place your hand firmly on his legs, forcing him to stop, and then hand him something for his hand to fidget with. Sometimes it was a paper clip that would end up unrecognizable by the end of the meeting, other times it was a pencil or anything you could grab but the favorite you had given to him at the last meeting. It was a simple black three-piece magnetic ring. It sits on the table next to him and he resists the urge to grab it.

 He lay there in the dark unable to sleep with the memory of your voice in his ear. You invited him earlier to join you in your room, but Soap made a passing comment that you were joking. Jerking at the sound of knocking, he calls out. "Who is it."

 "Hey, it's Ghost, did I wake you?"

 "No, I’m awake, give me a sec." He calls out, he fumbles out of bed as he tries putting on his mask. His body crashes to the floor but he pops up and opens the door like nothing happened. the mask hides his blushing cheeks as he faces the shorter masked man. Tries to steady his voice as he asks. "What can I do for you?"

 Ghost doesn’t say anything for a moment and while König doesn’t know the man well, he recognizes the look of mischief in his eyes. which was strange for the usually stoic man but before König could ask his question again, Ghost breaks his silence. "Ece needs you, she's in the kitchen."

 Before König could say anything, Ghost leaves the giant man in his doorway. His mind doesn’t process the words, once he does, his mind starts racing as he hurries out the doorway. What does she need, is she okay? Did he do something to upset her? What if this is about him staring at her during meetings or whenever she is in the same room as him? Hopefully, she’ll accept his apology, and he'll get down on his knees if he must.

 He is so lost in his thought that he doesn’t see you until there’s a thud against his chest, a yelp, and something thuds onto the ground followed by a shattering sound. Blink into focus he looks down, eyes widening as they land on you sprawled out on the ground your drink covering you, and the mug that was containing the liquid lies broken around you.

 "Scheisse!" The curse leaves his mouth as he bends down to you. "Are you all right, Schatz?"

 "Yeah, just scared me more than anything, the tea was cool enough that it didn’t hurt." You answer as he helps you up, more like lifting you off the ground and placing you gently back on your feet.

 His eyes dip down to your soaked shirt, it clings to your skin making it nearly see though, he swallows audibly at the sight. Jerking his head up, he starts apologizing again, unsure if it is for bumping into you or for staring. It all stops when you place your hand on his chest, the heat of you seaming into his skin when it dawns on him. He not wearing a shirt.

 His face heats up under the veil and he steps back and for a moment he thinks he sees disappointment flash across your face. your hand almost chases after him but snaps back you hesitantly say. "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

 "You make me? - I was uncomfortable- I mean- you make me uncomfortable-not! -." He Sutter out, his whole body being to tremble as a sigh leaves your lip. Taking a breath before repeating the answers. "You haven’t made me uncomfortable. I worry that I did that to you."

 A chuckle leaves your mouth, and the back of your hand comes to cover it for a moment, before saying. "Good, I’m glad and you never made me uncomfortable."

 König nods, a smile hidden under his veil, and he remembers the reason why he was here. "What did you need?"

 "Huh?"

  "Uh, Ghost said that you need me," he says, confusion swirling on both of your faces but then something dawns on your face. A surly smile slides on your face as you lean forward and his eyes dart back to your chest now more exposed. his mouth goes dry as you softly say. "Well, technically I need you early."

 König mouth goes dry as he sputters out. "You weren’t joking?"

 Your brow rises and you question him. "What made you think that?"

 "Uh," König starts as he realizes what that means. "Soap said..."

 "Damn MacTavish." You curse under your breath and König adds, hopefully.

 "Well, I can come now."

  Letting out a huff of laughter you pull the wet shirt away from your skin before saying. "Sorry sweet one I need to get cleaned up."

 "I can help you," König replies embarrassingly fast, he adds in the hope to save him from sounding needy. "It was my fault for bumping into you."

 You give him a smile and step forward his stutter in his chest, shiver crawls across his bare skin as your hand trails up his chest. you let out a little "hum" as blood starts to rush to his lower body leaving him light head. "As much as I would love that, you need your rest. you only have a few hours before you leave, you need to be well rested."

 The words falling on your lips hit him like a bucket of cold water, leaving him to gasp out. "What?"

 You step closer and he can feel your body heat and he fights the urge to grab you, your hands plant themselves agist his chest to steady yourself as you lean up. You are still so far from where his lips are hidden from view, and you whisper. "You are going to go back to your room and go straight to bed, okay?"

 His adam apple bobs as he swallows the spit that threatens to drool out as he nods at your orders. You give him a happy hum and one hand slides up to his shoulder, tug it down he follows without hesitation. Your lips brush his through the veil and he nearly falls as you whisper against him, "Good boy."

 He stumbles as you pull away and bend down to collect the broken piece of the mug. Once he steadies himself, he tries to help you but stops as your sharp word cut him. "I said straight to bed."

 He nods again and goes to turn away but pauses for a moment, asking in a small hopeful voice. "I will see you before I leave?"

 Your smile brightens your face as you stand up from picking the last bit of glass, but the look in your eyes heats him to nearly an uncomfortable level, as you say. "Yes, Sweet one, ill be there to see you off, now off to bed with you."

 That is what he does, as you call out after him. "You are to go to sleep, nothing else."

 He knows what you mean when you say that he also knows he doesn’t have to listen and when he gets to his room; he is tempted not to. His cock aches to be touched, to find relief like he’s always done after talking to you, but he wants to listen to you. To obey what you tell him to do, to make you proud. So, he lay his hand flat against the bed, emptying his mind of any thoughts and will cock down the best he can. It feels like an eternity before sleep takes him, but sleep does take him.

 He wakes up tired but grateful for the sleep, quickly getting up, changing clothes, and packing the rest into his bag. Throwing it over his shoulder, he walks out the door, and down the hall, he is soon greeted by you. He perks up all traces of exhaustion gone as you smile up at him. Holding up your hand, he notices something warped in tin foil in it. You tell him as you hand it over. "It’s my famous breakfast burrito. I usually make them for my team after a mission."

 "Thank you," he says, taking it and unwarping it, moving his veil just to get the burrito under. Taking a bite of it, he moans as the flavor hit his tongue. Mouth full, he tries to thank you, causing you to laugh as you reprimand him.

 "Don't talk with your mouth full and here." You hand him a slip of paper from one of your pockets. Look at it he sees a serial of number as you tell him. "Tell me when you get back to your base safely."

 "Yes, meine Konigin." He replies, taking a step forward to you but your arm stops him from going.

 "You don’t have a lot of time."

 His shoulder deflates, but you give him a sweet smile, a smile that promises next time they will make more time. Giving you a nod, he walks away to the plane. With one last glance behind him, he steps on the plane.

 You stay there and watch the plane take off until soap walks to shout. "Hey Ece, where's my burrito?"

 You turn and face him with a cold look telling him. "Oh, I gave it to König."

 "What? why?" He asks completely shocked but you just reply coldly.

 "You know what you did."

[charturnus]

I'm It's a complex

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

a/n: ...... So, surprise, I'm not dead! What can I say? Mercury was in retrograde? In all seriousness, I am very sorry for the ungodly amount of time between chapters, I hope this goliath makes up for it somewhat. Thank you to everyone who has been kind, your messages mean so much to me. Please let me know if you enjoy this!

Dedication: For Magda, who is the brightest light in my life. I know without a doubt that I will never be unloved by you, and that knowledge is balm for an aching soul.

Tags/warnings: 18+ minors DNI; top!wanda; bottom!reader; vaginal sex; praise; dominance; dirty talk; sex toys; degradation; unconventional therapy tactics

Word count: 15K

Summary: Chapter IX; Did you get enough of love, my little dove? AU

The one where Agatha is a show-off, you let something slip, and you make a friend. 

Previous chapter ➵➵

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

‘’I told you so!’’  Is the first thing Pepper says, as she steps over the threshold with a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a stack of papers in the other, a black tote bag slung over one shoulder. Kate follows right behind her, offering us her genuine congratulations. Neither of them know yet, of course. Wanda and I have been sitting tight on the secret of our budding relationship, so they’re just happy our staged kiss worked so well.  

Wanda has made it her mission to throw a dinner party for her friends, so she can announce our relationship in style. But it turns out that it’s quite difficult to gather a group of women who all have insanely busy jobs. Pepper works crazy hours, Agatha sometimes works miles away, and I know from experience that Maria, who has taken over my old job, has her plate completely full. But, Wanda has managed to find a date and time that works for everyone, so as Pepper and Kate file in (20 minutes early), we all keep an eye on the clock, waiting for the others to arrive. 

‘’Have you seen the pictures yet?’’ Kate asks me as we stand at the kitchen counter, pulling out empty plates, bowls and sets of cutlery to lay the table with. I shrug, ‘’Wanda doesn’t take papers or magazines, and she told me not to bother looking for it online. I think she’s got some weird experience with the press or something.’’ Kate gives me a wide-eyed look of understanding. ‘’They’re ruthless, they print really nasty things sometimes, she’s probably just trying to protect you.’’ I nod, unconcerned, ‘’yeah, probably.’’ I know tabloids have a way of painting people in the worst light possible, but Wanda isn’t that famous. It’s not like she’s an A-list celebrity, so I’m quite sure nobody is going to bother with me.

We each take a stack of plates, and a handful of cutlery to carry into the dining room and when I push through the door with my shoulder, I see that Agatha has joined the group. I didn’t hear the front door open, so she must have come in through the back. She's sitting together with Wanda and Pepper, leaning back in her chair, rolling her eyes at something the two other women are saying to her, their voices muddling together. 

I don't quite catch what the conversation is about, but Kate is quick to turn to Pepper after we deposit the dishes on the scrubbed wooden table. "What was that about a hotel?" She asks, strolling over to seat herself comfortably in Pepper's lap. Their limbs fit together perfectly, in a way you wouldn’t assume when you see them standing next to each other. I envy the easy way Kate drapes herself over Pepper, with not a care in the world. My eyes linger for a short while on their intertwined fingers, but my attention is quickly drawn back to the topic at hand. My brows knit together in confusion at the mention of a hotel. I don’t understand why Pepper would need a hotel, as she isn’t due for a holiday yet. 

"Are you going on holiday?" I ask casually, my curious side getting the better of me. I direct my question at Pepper, but it's Wanda who answers me, her voice soothing and casual, "no, honey, it's a work trip. Pepper and I are both going, and we need to book the hotel soon." 

Kate’s eyes widen in alarm, and I watch as her hand tightens around Pepper's fingers. She gives her a reproachful look, "you didn't tell me you’re going away." Pepper looks genuinely sorry as she lays a comforting hand on Kate’s back, cradling her close. I turn to look at Wanda, my eyes asking the same question of her. You didn't tell me you’re going away. 

"The conference was supposed to be in town, but the venue cancelled at the last minute," Pepper says, "the closest place we could find is a four-hour drive and there's no way we can travel 8 hours every day." It's fair, I know it is, but still my heart contracts painfully in my chest. ‘’I can come, right?’’ Kate asks, her tone hopeful and cheery, ‘’we haven’t been on holiday in ages.’’ Pepper for her part really does look sorry when she has to disappoint her. ‘’Honey, you know your mother will also be there, I don’t want you so near her for that long.’’ Kate’s face crumples, and she begins to cry softly, resting her head against Pepper’s as her shoulders shake. I ball my hands into fists, staving off the tears, wishing I could do the same.  

I watch as Pepper cradles her close to her, holding her head tightly to her chest, rocking slightly as she whispers words I can’t make out. I can feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes, knowing already what’s to come. Wanda holds her hand out to me, inviting me into a hug. "It's only five days, dove," she says, holding me tightly, whispering, "You’ll be fine, won’t you? I bet you’ll enjoy a nice little break.’’ 

I want to crumple like Kate, be shushed by Wanda like Pepper is doing for Kate. But Wanda thinks I'm stronger than that, that five days apart is no big deal. And it is, of course it’s not a big deal. The rational part of me knows that there is nothing odd about this, it’s completely normal. So why then does it feel like my chest has been hollowed out?

Wanda doesn't expect me to cry. So, I force myself to smile at her. "Of course," I say with a laugh, my voice straining against the tears that threaten to escape from me, "it's only five days." 

***  

As soon as the opportunity arises, I escape to the kitchen for a while, trying to find something useful to do. Wanda hired a catering company to take care of the food, so I can't cook, or pretend to fuss with the food that's cooking in the oven, or sitting covered on the counter. 

I decide that wine is my best option, and I open the wine cooler, to inspect the available bottles. I slide my hand over the cool bottlenecks, feeling the condensation dampen my fingers. Truth be told, I don't know what I'm doing, I don't drink wine. So, I just take out the bottles one by one, and try to judge them on their appearance. I discount the white ones, simply because red wine looks more dramatic. The labels aren't very exciting, though, so this really doesn't help me to narrow it down. 

"Are you contemplating alcoholism?"  

Agatha's sudden appearance startles me so much that the bottle of Argentinean Malbec threatens to slip from my fingers, but thankfully I manage to regain my grasp on the thin neck before it can crash to the ground. My heart pounds in my chest, and I quickly replace the bottle, letting out my breath in a shaky puff. Agatha raises an eyebrow at me, "guilty conscience, hon?"  

"Not a fan of people sneaking up on me, actually," I say, scowling as I close the door to the wine cooler. Agatha snorts, "I wasn't sneaking, I was looking for you."  

"What for?"  

"You tell me, you get your feelings hurt and next thing I know you look like you're turning to the bottle."  

I’ve only known Agatha for a very short while, but after my conversation with her at the gala, I’m not surprised in the slightest that she noticed I’m upset. I actually think it’s pretty comical, and want to laugh at her remark, but I don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing I think she's funny. So I try very hard to make it look like I'm annoyed, and I keep my lips resolutely sealed.  

"I thought you didn't drink?"  

"I drink," I say evasively, now perusing a rack of champagne next to the wine cooler.  

"Wanda said that you had your first drink in 10 years at the gala." I roll my eyes, "three years, actually. And so what? I fancy another one now." 

Agatha moves over to lean against the kitchen counter, looking at me over the lenses of her glasses. "You know I have great connections with Alcoholics Anonymous, do you want me to give you their number?"  

From the rack, I pull a bottle of Dom Pérignon, scanning the label like I know what I'm doing. "What are you actually here for? Because I think we both know I'm not looking to start a life of alcohol abuse." I keep my eyes glued to the label as I speak, turning it over and reading every word twice, anything so I won't have to look at her. But Agatha notices, of course she does.  

"I see you're avoiding making eye-contact with me," she says, in that simple way she has of saying things. Just stating a truth, and waiting for me to explain myself. I don't, I just shrug, "it's not a crime, is it?" 

‘’No,’’ she says airily, ‘’but I think it’s essential in order for a person to open up and allow themselves to be vulnerable. If you avoid eye-contact, you’re avoiding your own vulnerability.’’ This makes me falter, and I stammer a bit trying to find an adequate response, but Agatha ignores me, her eyes suddenly serious as she asks, "what do you think of Wanda having to go away for a business trip?"  

Out of spite, I make sure to look Agatha dead in her eyes, but I regret it almost instantly. She's looking at me in that way again, like she can already see everything that's playing in my head, and she's just waiting for me to confirm her theories. "It's pretty normal for her to take business trips several times a year."  

Agatha's eyes change, a look of reprove evident in her gaze. "I think you know that isn't what I was asking you." Her dissatisfaction with my answer stings, and not for the first time, I'm seized with a strange desire to tell her everything I'm worrying about. As if in doing so I wouldn't have to face her disapproval again. I try to keep myself composed, under her scrutinizing gaze. "It's only five days, Wanda said it's not a big deal." Agatha cocks her head to one side, "did she? I don't recall her saying that."

I'm agitated now, provoked by the anxiety from the conversation in the dining room, and now by Agatha prying into this situation. "But she meant it,’’ I say, a little too loudly, my voice cracking just a bit. ‘’Ah,’’ Agatha mutters, taking off her glasses, the end of one ear resting against her lips, ‘’so that’s what you’re about.’’ This makes precisely no sense to me, but Agatha doesn’t seem bothered to explain what she meant. She only smiles at me, the kind of encouraging smile I imagine her giving a client. ‘’You’re ashamed,’’ she says simply, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  

‘’I beg your pardon?’’ Agatha ignores me again, which appears to be becoming a habit, and presses on with a question of her own, ‘’Wanda didn’t actually say that it wasn’t a big deal, did she? So why do you think she meant to say it?’’ My hands are beginning to shake, and I have to put the bottle of champagne down. ‘’I don’t know, she just asked me to deal with it.’’ I mumble, turning away from Agatha, so I don’t have to look at her anymore. Behind me, I hear her hum, mulling my statement over in her head. ‘’Remember what I said about eye contact, hon?’’  

With a herculean effort, I turn around again, resting my back against the counter, slowly raising my eyes to look back up at her. She gives me a smile for my efforts. “Good job, hon,’’ she says in a higher pitched voice than I have heard from her so far. It feels somehow both condescending and rewarding. It’s the kind of tone you’d use when training a puppy, big exaggerate sounds that they can recognize, so they know when they’ve done something right. I want to hear her say it again.  

"How did it make you feel when Kate began to cry?’’ she asks, her glasses dangling from her fingers. ‘’I don’t know, sad, I guess?’’ Agatha hums again, ‘’Sad because she was upset, or sad because you felt like you weren’t allowed to show the same level of emotion?’’  

This throws me a bit, and I stutter out several uh’s and uhm’s before I can form a proper reply. ‘’I didn’t say that I wasn’t allowed to cry,’’ I say defensively. ‘’No, you didn’t. But you wanted to cry too, didn’t you?’’ 

‘’Why does that matter?’’ I say, my old agitation flaring up again. I feel my face heating up, and I’m profoundly uncomfortable under Agatha’s scrutiny. I don’t like that she knows these things about me. It frightens me that she can watch me and tell me exactly what goes on in my head. It feels invasive.  

‘’If it doesn’t matter, answer my question.’’ 

‘’Fine,’��� I snap, much more aggressively than I had intended. ‘’I am upset, and I did want to cry, but that doesn’t matter anymore because it’s settled now.’’ Agatha’s brows furrow at my tone, but she doesn’t chide me for it. ‘’Do you really believe that?’’ she asks in a tone that suggests that she knows I’m lying. ‘’Wanda is going, and no amount of whining is going to change that.’’ She pulls a face of surprise, but I know enough to know by now that she isn’t surprised by this. I’m confirming what she’s known all along. ‘’Is that how you see the expression of your emotions? As whining?’’ 

‘’That’s not what I said.’’ Agatha smiles a devious smile. ‘’No, but you meant it,’’ she says, parroting my own words back at me. My shoulders slump forward a bit, my body wanting to shrink in on itself, to hide me from Agatha. ‘’Hon,’’ she says gently, laying a warm hand on my shoulder, ‘’I’m not doing this to be mean, I’m trying to help you. Be honest with me, and let me help you make it better.’’ I’m tired of this back and forth already, and the rational part of me knows that she’s right, Agatha isn’t doing this to antagonize me, so I sigh and nod. ‘’I just don’t want Wanda to think I’m too needy.’’ 

‘’And why is that?’’ she says, her tone encouraging, trying to coax me out of my shell. ‘’I’m afraid she won’t like me anymore if she knows how much I need her.’’ Agatha allows a silence to fall, stretching out painfully long. I think she’s waiting for me to say something, let loose more of my thoughts, but I don’t want to. Not when I’m not being prompted to, anyway.  

‘’Have you felt that before?’’ she finally asks, after what feels like an eternity, ‘’That you couldn’t let someone know you needed them?’’ 

The answer is out of my mouth before I can stop myself. ‘’Yes.’’ I say, without even thinking about it. Something like triumph glitters in Agatha’s eyes, ‘’Why don’t you tell me about that, hon?’’ I shake my head dismissively, ‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’ 

‘’You don’t have to give details, just give me a rough idea.’’ I shrug, my eyes finding the floor again. ‘’I don’t know, this is just so personal. I’m not your client.’’ Agatha chuckles, ‘’aren’t you?’’ She takes a step back from the counter and begins pulling open drawers, she stops when she opens the miscellaneous drawer, where we keep bits and pieces that don’t belong anywhere else. She fishes out a notepad that I’ve been using to write grocery lists on, and that Wanda uses to write little notes to me or the housekeeper. She produces a pen from her pocket and throws the notepad down on the counter, clicks the pen open, and begins to take notes. 

She replaces her glasses carefully on the edge of her nose, writing down words that I can’t make out from here. A silence lingers for a while, and whilst Agatha seems perfectly at ease, I feel more and more disconcerted with every second that passes by. After a while, she looks up at me, her glasses sitting slightly crooked on her nose. ‘’So, are you going to accept that you need my help, or are you going to run yourself into the ground? The choice is all yours, toots.’’  

This isn’t rejection, quite the opposite, but there’s a suggestion of it in her tone, and it makes me recoil. Her approval earlier felt so warm, enveloping me like a blanket, shutting out the cold. I feel ridiculous for wanting this from her, when I could get it somewhere else. I could go back to work, and fall back into the steady rhythm of misery, that nonetheless feeds that ugly part of me that wants to be praised for my actions.  

For a second I feel the sensation of déjà vu, like I’ve done this exact thing before, stood in this spot together with Agatha. I know I haven’t, of course. Just a trick of the mind. But I know I’ve been here before, not in this kitchen, with this woman, but in different places, with other women. My neighbour, my aunt, several teachers, a doctor, and then me, wanting nothing more than to please, to say or do the right thing, so that they would like me and keep me around. Agatha waves a hand in front of my eye-line, and I realize I’ve been staring off into the distance. I shake my head slightly, clearing the foggy thoughts from my mind. ‘’Well?’’ she asks, her eyebrows raised, ‘’penny for your thoughts, hon.’’ 

‘’Kate used to be your client, right?’’ She’s surprised by my question, but she still answers me. ‘’A couple of years ago, yes.’’  

‘’What did you do to help her?’’ Agatha smiles, and it’s slightly condescending, like I’m a child asking her why the grass is green. ‘’Trade secret, baby. It’s confidential.’’ I try to brush past the pet name, pushing her for more answers. ‘’At the gala, Mrs. Bishop said that thing to you,’’ I say with a slight flush creeping into my cheeks, ‘’about, uhm, you know- The mother thing.’’ Agatha snorts, shaking her head at me. ‘’Right, what was it again? Something about telling vulnerable girls to go fuck their mothers, I think.’’ Now she doesn’t have her glasses in hand anymore, she takes to playing with her pen, spinning it around in her hands. The plastic of the pen makes soft ticking noises as it makes contact with the many rings on her fingers.  

‘’Eleanor Bishop doesn’t know the first thing about my line of work, and not just that, she has no clue who her daughter truly is. She knows that I encouraged both her relationship and her dynamic with Pepper, and unfortunately, she found out a few too many details about the workings of it all. She drew her own conclusions, and as a result, she spouts nonsense like that.’’ 

‘’Oh,’’ I say, ‘’so, she was lying? I mean, you didn’t-‘’ I trail off awkwardly, and Agatha laughs, the sound of echoing through the kitchen. ‘’What? Tell her she wants to fuck her mother? No, I didn’t.’’ My face heats up, and I scramble for my words, ‘’N-no I didn’t, that’s not what I-‘’ But Agatha waves it away dismissively. ‘’Eleanor Bishop is upset, because she realized that she messed her kid up, and she’s looking for everything she couldn’t get from her mother, somewhere else. Kate is making up for lost time, and her mother can’t accept that she failed her child.’’

Unbidden, the image of my own mother floats up into my mind's eye, and the little voice in my head taunts me when the similarities in our situation become so clear to me. I think she can sense my discomfort, and the shift in energy, because she shrugs it off, ‘’never mind all of that, if you want the details of Kate’s treatment plan, you’re going to have to ask her for consent because I’m not in the business of HIPAA violations.’’ 

‘’O-okay.’’ I manage weakly.  ‘’That’s later,’’ she says, her demeanour shifting as she looks back down at the notepad full of her scribbles, ‘’now I’d like to circle back to that question I asked you. Someone made you feel like you couldn’t let them know you needed them. Who made you feel that way, and why?’’ 

‘’Uhm,’’ I mutter, forcing myself once again to make eye contact with Agatha, ‘’my mother.’’ I watch as her eyebrow twitches slightly, and her eyes light up as though she just struck gold. ‘’You needed her, as all children need her mothers,’’ she says, ‘’but she didn’t fulfil those needs?’’ Her voice is sweet as honey, asking a question to which she already knows the answer.

I begin to pick at the skin around my palm, digging my nails in hard to prevent myself from crying. ‘’My mother didn’t care for me like mothers are supposed to,’’ I say, ‘’I had to care for her a lot of the time, support her emotionally, I mean.’’ Agatha nods her understanding, encouraging me to continue. ‘’I needed her when I was little, and after that too sometimes. But I never felt like I could tell her that, because I was supposed to be the strong one.’’ 

Her pen flies over the page as I speak, and I try to follow it, but can’t make any sense of it. She isn’t writing down my words, but that’s as much as I can tell. She’s drawing arrows too, and little stars next to sentences. She doesn’t say things that my old therapist would have said, like ‘that’s rough’, or ‘that must have been hard on you’. She just lays down her pen, nodding her head solemnly.  ‘’What were you feeling when Pepper comforted Kate as she cried?’’ 

The question throws me a bit, because my mind had wandered off into the dark depths of my past. I bring myself back to that moment in the dining room, standing there watching Kate fall apart. I shift my weight nervously from foot to foot, and shrug. 

"Be honest, tell me how you felt."  

"Envious." 

‘’Ah,’’ Agatha says softly, ‘’You wanted Wanda to do the same for you?’’ 

My nails dig harder into my palm, as tears threaten to spill from my eyes and fall down my cheeks. ‘’Pepper just saw straight away how upset Kate was, and she comforted her. I wanted that too.’’ 

‘’You want Wanda to look after you, like Pepper looks after Kate?’’ 

‘’I guess,’’ I say, acting like I wouldn’t give the world to be comforted by Wanda right now. I think back to my first night at the house, and how gentle and kind she was then. She held me as I cried, and rocked me to sleep. I wonder what it would take for her to do that again.  

Agatha hums thoughtfully, ‘’that dynamic didn’t spring up out of nowhere, you understand that, don’t you? It takes time and trust, and most importantly honesty and openness.’’ This sounds so much like actual advice, that the surprise must be evident on my face, because Agatha snorts, ‘’you know I have my PhD in psychology, don’t you? I can say half decent things when I bother to.’’ She shakes her head at me, but I haven’t yet wiped the smirk from her face.  

‘’Pepper didn’t spot that Kate was upset out of nowhere, it was communicated to her when Kate began to cry, Pepper picked up that cue, and was then able to comfort her. It’s about communication and mutual understanding.’’ Agatha removes her glasses again, her gaze suddenly stern, ‘’and given that you’re standing here contemplating getting drunk, rather than talking to Wanda, that indicates to me that you have a long way to go in that department.’’ 

*** 

Our impromptu therapy session comes to an end when Wanda slips in through the half open kitchen door to announce Maria’s arrival. She doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest at Agatha’s presence, and merely gives my hand a little squeeze as she leads me out of the kitchen and to the dinner table. All seats, barring one, are filled, and I know, even without anyone telling me so, that that seat was meant for Natasha Romanoff. Opposite me, Kate looks to have calmed down mostly, and she’s contentedly nibbling on some bread as she listens to Pepper gloat about our achievement. Her cheeks are red now, though, and I notice her squirming in her seat, but quickly my attention is diverted by Pepper showing the others the magazine covers featuring mine and Wanda’s picture.  

I have a look, too, and I’m surprisingly pleased at how the photographs turned out. Our backseat kiss genuinely looks like it could have been an accident, our edges are blurred, making it look like it was hastily taken. We’re pressed impossibly close to one another, the flush in my cheeks clear, even in the fuzzy picture, the sight of this brings me right back to that moment. Under the table, Wanda takes hold of my thigh, squeezing slightly. ‘’You make a handsome pair,’’ Maria says, inclining her head towards us with a smile. Wanda nudges me playfully with her elbow, ‘’we do, don’t we, honey?’’  

Maria snorts, ‘’you could’ve fooled me.’’ 

‘’Actually, that’s why I asked you all to come over today,’’ Wanda says, making good use of the segue provided by Maria, ‘’we may or may not have been keeping a secret from you.’’ Even with so little to go on, the reaction from the room is instantaneous. Kate gasps hugely, and Agatha slumps back in her chair with triumph, a gloating look on her face. ‘’I knew it,’’ she says, with a shit-eating grin, ‘’cough up, Hill.’’ Maria curses, slamming her fist hard against the wooden table, ‘’oh come on! You couldn’t have waited two more weeks?’’  

I look between the two women with some confusion, trying to figure out what exactly they’re talking about. Maria fishes a £50 note out of her pocket, and slides it across the table with a sour look. ‘’You took a bet on our relationship?’’ I say indignantly, but all the women at the table, including Maria, merely laugh at me. ‘’For the record, I knew before you had even signed that damned contract that this would happen.’’ Pepper states, pointing her finger around at everyone, ‘’I called this.’’ 

 ‘’I’m sorry Wands,’’ Agatha says, as she pockets the money, ‘’it was too good of an opportunity to let go. I think all of us knew this was bound to happen.’’ She’s clearly right, because it seems that everyone had been expecting for us to make the announcement soon. Even with the anxiety about Wanda’s trip weighing me down, I feel slightly comforted by the knowledge that Wanda’s friends are accepting of us, and approving of me. They treat me like one of their own, and have done so since the very first moment. And once the moment of shock has passed, everyone goes back to their regular conversations. The normalcy of it all grounds me somewhat, even as my stomach twists and turns as I think over Wanda’s upcoming trip.

*** 

The dinner is delicious, the wine even more so. Still, my appetite is minimal. Even with the good conversation, and the nice company, my mood is dampened by the thought of Wanda’s departure. I nibble at my meal, pushing it around a little with my fork. I compensate for my lack of enthusiasm for the food by gulping down the wine. It goes straight to my head. Not in the way hard liquor does, this feels different somehow. My head swims, and I feel the buzz, but there’s none of the horrible nausea that comes with drinking cheap vodka.  

Wanda notices that I don’t make much of a dent in my dinner, and she places a strong hand on my thigh, leaning in to whisper to me, asking me if I’m feeling alright. Seated at the head of the table, Agatha is holding court, loudly telling a lewd story involving a student, several board members and a cat o' nine tails whip.  ‘’Of course,’’ I lie, with a smile, and I notice that it’s a bit harder to pull off than I am used to. In the before times, as I now have come to think of them, I told all sorts of lies all the time, with no issue whatsoever. Yes, I slept well. Yes, I ate my dinner. No, this project isn’t overwhelming. No, I don’t need more time to work on it. Lying came as easily to me as breathing, and the difficulty I have now, however slight, unsettles me.  

Wanda frowns a bit, looking down at my hardly touched plate, and she opens her mouth to speak, but I am saved from her inquiries by the sound of breaking glass. I start, almost threatening to upset my own wine glass, but I save it in the nick of time. Across the table from me, Kate’s face is red, and a slight shimmer of tears is visible in her eyes once more. Her glass lies broken on the ground, the little orange juice that was in it, splattered all over the floor. Pepper’s hand flies to the ring of her collar, yanking her harshly towards her.  

‘’Uh oh…’’ Agatha sing songs, a cruel smile on her face, ‘’you should house train your pets Pepper.’’ If looks could kill, Agatha would be decomposing where she sits. Ever dignified, however, Pepper ignores her, instead choosing to hiss some words to Kate that I can’t make out. Kate is still squirming, tears steadily dripping down her face. It doesn’t shock me, but I’m surprised to see them interact like this. Until now, I’ve never witnessed an altercation between them, and it’s strange to hear the venom in Pepper’s voice when she grabs Kate harshly by the face, to turn her head in our direction. 

‘’Now apologize to miss Wanda for breaking her pretty glass.’’ Kate whines, and she struggles in Pepper’s grasp, but she manages to stutter out a weak, ‘’I- I’m sorry, muh-miss Wanda.’’  Wanda for her part takes it well, she squeezes my thigh slightly before she speaks, her voice gentle and reassuring, ‘’that’s alright Katie, thank you for apologizing. Are you going to be a good girl and clean it up?’’ 

Something inside me jumps at her words, and I suddenly wish it were me in Kate’s position. Across the table, I watch as Pepper’s fingers move from her face, where they were squishing Kate’s cheeks together, back to her collar, pulling her in so close that only she can make out her partner’s words. My eyes drift to Pepper’s lap, where her phone lies open on a screen that shows something like sound waves. I stare at it for a while, unsure of what I’m looking at, but when Pepper’s finger casually slides over the screen to increase the waves, and Kate lets out a high-pitched noise of surprise, I realize what’s going on. I feel the heat bloom in my face, and I look away quickly from the pair, trying to ignore Wanda’s warm hand on my thigh, and the strange feelings swirling in my gut. In my haste to look anywhere but the scene in front of me, I accidentally make eye contact with Agatha, who sits at the head of the table, leaning back in her chair, grinning at me from over the rim of her glasses. She raises an eyebrow at me, and I can just imagine her voice as though she were actually speaking to me. 

Enjoying the show, hon?’

*** 

Under Pepper’s watchful gaze, Kate sweeps up the broken glass and mops the floor to clear it from the orange juice. She’s not crying anymore, but she’s prone to having fits of uncontrollable shaking, whenever Pepper plays with the waves on her phone. Everyone at the table continues their conversations, acting like this is the most normal thing in the world to them. And maybe it is. 

‘’Are you okay?’’ Wanda whispers to me, ‘’I know it’s a lot, is that why you’re having a bit of a hard time tonight?’’ I seize this opportunity with both hands, ‘’Yes,’’ I whisper back, watching as Kate clambers into Pepper’s lap, having just finished cleaning up her mess, ‘’it’s okay though, I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.’’  

She seems satisfied with this explanation, and she throws an arm over my shoulders, reclining in her seat. Kate has her face buried in the crook of Pepper’s neck, and the conversation falls silent, just in time for us to her Kate mumble something against Pepper’s skin. ‘’I’m sorry mommy.’’ 

It feels like a current of electricity runs through my body at the sound of that word, and suddenly the room has become uncomfortably hot. I’m hyper aware of Wanda’s arm around my shoulders, and I know for certain that if I were to turn my head, Agatha would be right there staring at me. I don’t give her the satisfaction, so I resolutely stare straight ahead.  ‘’Don’t mind her,’’ Pepper says airily to the room at large, ‘’she’s fussy today’’ and then, turning to Kate, ‘’aren’t you, puppy?’’  

Kate seems much more relaxed now, her tears are gone, her sniffles replaced with soft moans and whines. She nods blearily, her hands pawing slightly at Pepper’s blouse. ‘’Someone’s impatient.’’ Maria laughs, and she stands up to fetch a simple black bag sitting on an ottoman in the corner of the room. I recognize it as the bag Pepper brought over today. She throws it underhanded to Pepper, who surprisingly catches it. ‘’Give us some entertainment, won’t you? It’s been ages.’’ Pepper gives her an annoyed look, ‘’she broke a glass, Hill. I know you don’t understand the concept of discipline, but she can’t be rewarded for that.’’  

‘’Who said it’ll be a reward?’’ Agatha cuts in, shoving her chair back loudly and strolling over to where Pepper sits holding the bag. She reaches in, fishing out a pretty purple toy with a suction cup. She leans down to attach it to the floor, before heading back to her seat. ‘’She can fuck herself on that, we all know she won’t be able to cum from just that.’’ Kate’s eyes go wide, and she whines, both of her hands clutching at Pepper’s blouse now. ‘’No, no, no, no. Mommy, I’m sorry,’’ she cries, ‘’you promised, you said I could.’’  But Pepper doesn’t relent, merely giving her a stern look, ‘’maybe later, if you’re a good girl for us now, okay puppy?’’ 

Maria helps Pepper to extract the girl from her, guiding her to the floor, where they squat on either side of her to manoeuvre her to her knees. Once she’s down, Maria returns to her seat, keeping a respectful distance. From my position, I can’t see everything that’s happening, but I watch as Pepper reaches her hand up Kate’s skirt and whispers some words to her that I can’t hear. Kate puts her hands on Pepper’s shoulders to steady herself, there’s a wet sucking noise that makes even the tips of my ears feel hot, and then the quiet room is filled with a buzzing noise. I feel rather light-headed as I watch Maria helpfully turn down the waves on Pepper’s phone, and the vibrations stop instantly.  

‘’Be a good girl and fuck yourself on that, puppy.’’ Pepper says, petting Kate’s hair affectionately, ‘’you heard miss Maria, they want a show.’’ There’s a smacking noise, and I assume Pepper tapped Kate on her ass, because she makes a startled noise, and moves into action almost instantly. She shuffles on her knees, holding on to Pepper for support, before lowering herself down. I can only imagine what is going on beyond my line of sight, but Kate lets out a low moan of relief, that almost fills in the blanks on the picture in my head. I can almost see the purple silicone between her thighs. Pepper raises herself up again, slipping a small black toy, shining with slick, into the pocket of her trousers. ‘’That’s a good girl, puppy.’’ 

*** 

My head swims, either from the alcohol, Wanda's ever burning grip on my thigh, or Kate's increasingly loud moans. Maria, Pepper and Agatha are egging Kate on, making lewd comments about her body, and vulgar remarks about everything they could be doing to her if only she had been a good girl. Kate's face is red and streaked with tears that are by now dripping down her chin. Whilst she had started off moving slowly, her face contorted as though the toy was almost painful, she now sets a punishing pace, and she pants with the effort of it. 

 ''It's such a shame that you've forgotten how to behave, Katie.'' Agatha remarks with a dark smile, ''it's been so long since you kept my pretty cock warm.'' In response to this, Kate lets out a tortured sound, ''no, no, no, no, no...'' She whines, turning her eyes upward to look alternately at Pepper and then at Agatha. ''Please- Please,'' she huffs, ''you promised, you said I could, I've been good all week.'' 

My heart beats at four times its normal speed, and I can't help but keep myself focused on Kate as she bobs up and down on the toy. The revelation that Agatha has slept with Kate before doesn't shock me, as it probably should, but the thought that Pepper would share her is astounding to me.  

''Mommy, please,'' Kate whines again, fingers grabbing at Pepper's white trouser legs, ''I'll be so good, please, please I want to sit on daddy’s lap.'' If Pepper is surprised at that title for Agatha, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she rolls her eyes, grabbing a fistful of Kate's hair, yanking her upright, ''you're a desperate little cock whore lately, aren't you?'' With a shove, she's pushed in the direction of Agatha, who looks as though Christmas has come early.  My throat feels rather dry, and I take a shaky gulp of my wine. Wanda, who's been silent until now, speaks up, ''you can't blame her for wanting Agatha, now can you Pepper? I think we've all fallen victim to her charm at some point.''  

My head feels much too foggy to even begin to try to understand what this means, so I just decide to let it go for now. Wanda clearly feels more confident, now that everyone is busy watching this display, and she leans down slightly to press a kiss to my cheek, her hand dropping back to my thigh and skirting dangerously close the apex of my thighs. Quite suddenly, I'm uncomfortably aware of the throbbing sensation between my legs.  

I look around for a distraction, for something that could help me turn these feelings around, something dull to stare at, tiles to count. But my wandering eye is drawn to Agatha, who is beckoning Kate over to her. I wait for something to happen, for someone to search through the black bag again and produce another toy. But, nothing of the sort happens, Kate merely lowers herself obediently in between Agatha's spread legs.  

''I told you to house-train your pets, Peps,'' Agatha says smugly, her nimble fingers moving to undo the zip of her trousers. I feel as though I might faint any moment now. ''How many years has it been now? Four? Five?'' her fingers dig in the opening of her zip, grasping at something I can't see, ''and she still remembers my training.''  

From the gap she pulls another toy, also purple, but short and thick, and more realistic in looks. The thought of Agatha walking around with that hidden all evening makes my head spin, and my mouth water. Kate doesn't need instructions, and simply leans down to take Agatha in her mouth. With a smirk, the older woman collects all of Kate's hair to keep it away from her mouth. I have to breathe in through my nose and let my breath out through my mouth in order to calm my racing heart somewhat. But it's difficult when Maria talks about how Kate ''sucks cock like a champ'' and when Pepper is urging Agatha to ''make her choke on it'' 

 Agatha seems to like Pepper's suggestion, because a few times she snaps her hips up sharply, and in response Kate makes a grotesque gagging noise, saliva dribbling from her chin to her chest. Even through all of this, I manage to keep it together, manage to ignore the way Agatha makes conversation with Maria as if Kate isn't sucking her off under the table.  

But when after a few long minutes, Agatha hauls Kate up to sit in her lap, my brain seems to short-circuit. Kate lets out a contented sigh of relief, but this is only short-lived because the second she tries to lift herself up to fuck herself on it, Agatha stops her. Kate's lower lip trembles, and I'm sure she's going to put up a fight, but she remains silent. ''See?'' Agatha gloats, ''you can be a good girl. Go on, grind on my cock, Katie.''  She flips up Kate's skirt to reveal her cunt, soaking wet and swollen. My clit twitches and throbs, and I grasp at Wanda's hand, my fingers clutching hers desperately. I can't take my eyes off of her, and all I can think is why her, and not me? 

Images of me in Kate's position flood my mind. I want Wanda to reach out and touch me, in front of everyone here, I don't care. I just need this ache to stop, but I don't know how to ask for it. Kate is getting desperate now, and I like to imagine that she's letting out my frustration for me. At least she can be loud, I have to sit here quietly.  

She's struggling in Agatha's grasp, but the older woman holds her firmly in place. ''Please, please, please-'' she babbles, and I'm not sure who she's asking. ''Please what?'' Pepper answers. Kate's whole body trembles as Pepper gets up, moving to stand in front of Kate seated on Agatha's lap I can feel my own wetness, and I'm sure that if I were to touch myself now, my fingers would be covered in my own slick. My hands are sweaty, and my legs are shaking.  

Pepper’s fingers find their home around Kate’s throat, and they both smile. Kate looks relieved, almost. ‘’Please take care of me mommy, I need- I need…’’ It comes out slightly garbled, but I can still make out the words. ‘’It’s okay baby, let’s empty that pretty head of yours.’’

I’m highly conscious of Wanda next to me, and I wonder what she thinks of this. Does she want this like I want this? 

I wish this were us. 

I wish I could ask her to take care of me. 

When Kate comes, Agatha’s eyes find mine again, and I can almost hear her speaking to me, gloating and goading. I can almost feel her hands on my waist, just as they are on Kate’s. You wish this was you, don’t you?

The room feels much too hot, and I feel too exposed. My chair makes a loud scraping noise when I push it back, startling everyone except for Pepper and Kate, who seem to be in a world of their own.

Wanda rises to follow me, but I hear Agatha calling her to stay, and to let me go.

***

When I burst into the bedroom, where the windows have been open all evening, I notice how clammy I feel. My mouth is dry and tacky, the world spinning slightly on its axis. Maybe I had a little bit too much wine. But what else was I supposed to? All evening I’ve been trying to push Wanda’s trip from my mind, but I feel the horrible, twisted sadness creeping in again. My chest feels hollowed out, empty and gaping. I blame Agatha and her awful questions. 

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about this, I don’t want to cry, but I can feel it in my throat and behind my eyes. I swallow it back. I’m better than that, surely. I lower myself onto the edge of the bed on shaking arms. I want comfort, I want Wanda. But I can’t have her, I don’t know how to ask for this. I don’t even know what I want to ask for. What do I even want her to do? Fuck the sadness out of me? Maybe that idea isn’t half bad. At least then I won’t have to think about this. Maybe that’s why Kate wanted to do all of that today, maybe she just knows how to regulate her emotions better than I do. 

Almost mechanically, I push myself back up, and make my way to the second bedroom, that once was meant to be mine. I pull out the tote bag that I had wedged between the headboard and the wall on my first day at the house. My toy doesn’t look like Kate’s, but it has a suction cup just like hers. This will do. 

With trembling hands, I suction the toy to the smooth tiles of the bathroom floor. I make sure it's close enough to the bath, so I can drape my upper body over that when I inevitably lose the strength in my arms to keep myself upright. Hastily I slide my underwear down my legs, kicking them away into the corner and I sink down onto my knees. The tiles are hard and cold, and it's somewhat painful to kneel there. I think it's wonderful. 

I'm wet all down my thighs, and yet I know I haven't been prepped properly. I know this will hurt for a while, but I welcome the pain. The lubricant spreads messily over my hand, cold and slick, as I wipe it off on the toy. Gingerly, I lower myself down over it, mewling as the cold head slips and slides over my heated clit. When I position the head over my entrance I realize just how unprepared I am for this, but I can't find it in myself to care, if I don't get this inside me now I feel as though I might collapse in on myself. 

The stretch is significant, but it still slides in easily thanks to the combined wetness of my arousal and the lubricant. Just the head rests inside, and I have to breathe through the stinging pain. It doesn't hurt too much for me to continue, so I try to relax and bounce myself up and down a bit. After a few moments I feel able to take some more of the length, though it still stings. The head now rests comfortably against that one delicious spot inside of me, and I have to bite back a moan. How can something feel so uncomfortable, and yet so wonderful at the same time? 

It takes only a few minutes for my body to adjust, and for the stinging to fade away into nothingness. Now all I feel is a primal, deep sort of need. My insides twist and squirm, begging for more, begging for some kind of relief, not just of the physical kind. The rhythm I establish is nothing short of messy, and it’s all wrong. I can’t get the pacing right, and that marvellous feeling of bottoming out on a toy is nowhere to be found. It feels good, but not good enough. Frustrated tears pool in my eyes, so thick and heavy they actually fall, dripping all the way down my chin onto my chest. After fifteen minutes I am half sobbing, half moaning, delirious from an ache I can’t satisfy. I need more, I need more, I need- I need-

When Wanda finds me, she looks surprised. Her mouth open and rounded into a perfect little oh. I can’t stop myself, not even with Wanda here. It aches so bad, and I can’t make it go away, no matter how much I try. I don’t want to think about how I must look to her now, red-faced and sobbing, still dressed, fucking myself on her bathroom floor. She doesn’t give me time to consider it. She is on her knees in front of me in a split second, her hands smoothing my hair away from my sweaty face. ‘’What do you need?’’ she asks, so earnestly I would cry, if I wasn’t crying already. 

‘’Please, please, please, please.’’ 

I hang my head, to let it rest on her shoulder, breathing in her perfume as I take shuddering breaths in between each word. ‘’I need- need- you, please, I can’t- I can’t.’’ Wanda’s hands grasp my hips, trying to slow my movement, and I almost scream in utter frustration. ‘’No, no, no, puh-lease,’’ is all I can get out, before she shushes me. ‘’Honey, take a deep breath, and tell me what you need, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.’’ 

I force myself to stay still, to breathe deeply in, and out, and again. Until my body relaxes somewhat into Wanda. ‘’There you go, good girl,’’ she coos, reigniting the heat in my belly once more. ‘’I can’t do it right,’’ I whine into her neck, my fingers grasping at her arms, ‘’I can’t feel and think at the same time, and I can’t get it to feel right.’’ 

She smooths a soothing hand down my back, and I can feel her smile into my hair. ‘’It’s okay, baby. Did seeing Katie like that get you excited?’’ I whimper, and nod, too far gone to even be ashamed of admitting it. She guides me off of the toy, ignoring my whines, and removing the toy from the tiles. ‘’It made me excited too, made me want you just like Agatha was having her, would you like that, sweet girl?’’ She helps me to my feet with my hands in hers, and just for this moment, I decide, it doesn’t matter. She has admitted to me, so now I may admit to her. Just for tonight.  ‘’Please, I need you so badly.’’ I whisper, my eyes downcast to the blueish bathroom tiles, my fingers grasping tightly onto hers. 

Wanda has smiled at me in a thousand different ways. She has a smile for everything, for an exceptionally well performing report, for over hours at work, for when I make her breakfast just right, for when she wants to say I love you without saying it. But now her smile is devilish and predatory, and this is entirely foreign to me. 

Her lips curl up beautifully, her eyes shine with the infinite possibilities of her power over me. It’s the most dangerous smile she has ever given me, and yet I have never felt so safe. 

***

Wanda guides me from the bathroom into the bedroom, and onto the bed. She positions me on my knees, on top of the soft sheets. From there, I watch as she strips, the muscles in her arms becoming more pronounced when she reaches up to pull her shirt over her head. She slips the harness on like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like tying her shoelaces, or doing up the buttons of a coat. She needs my help to fit the base of the toy through the ring, and with the combined shakiness of my hands, and the slickness of the toy, it takes a few moments before it’s comfortably in place. She kisses me, hastily, like she herself is impatient too, and she asks me quietly ‘’are you sure about this? Remember to tap out when you want to stop.’’ I nod so quickly that I fear I might have given myself whiplash, and my enthusiasm makes Wanda smile. I hesitate for half a second, but then I speak up, ‘’don’t go easy on me- please, I think I just need- I don’t know, I just want you to be a bit rough.’’ 

Wanda smiles again, and this time it’s a cocky thing, all smugness and pride. My insides twist at the thought of what is to come and my head buzzes at the sight of Wanda like this, cool and confident, perfectly at ease, perfectly in control. She knows I will bend for her, in whichever way she asks me to. She knows I’m all hers, to with as she pleases. 

Her hand is warm and firm as she places it in the middle of my back, pushing down harshly to bend me over. I fall into position as though I was born to do this, my back arched prettily, legs spread as far as they can go. ‘’You really are gagging for it, aren’t you?’’ Wanda delights, so satisfied with herself that I can hear it in her voice. I don’t bother responding, I just whine and wiggle my ass for her. 

The smack comes as somewhat of a surprise, startling me so much that I yelp out loud, my voice reverberating through the room. Her hand instantly rubs smoothing circles over my stinging skin, and the motion has me moaning hotly, leaning back into her, sticking out my ass, asking for more. She delivers two more hits that leave me reeling, and somewhere in the distance I can hear her snicker. ‘’I’m going to have so much fun putting you over my lap someday, sweetheart.’’ 

And I would respond to her, tell her how much I want that, but then her fingers find my soaked cunt and my brain goes silent. Her intake of breath, along with the slick sounds her fingers make, are the only sounds in the room for a few moments, but when she sinks two fingers into me, I groan just a bit too loudly. I push back against her, impatient for more, but she’s stubborn. She fucks into me lazily for a while, her hand splayed out on my back, holding me in place. Then suddenly her fingers are gone, leaving me empty and wanting.

I hold my breath, waiting for her strap, waiting for her to give me what I want. But seconds pass, and then a few minutes, and suddenly, the dam in me breaks completely. My arms give way underneath me, and a sob tears at my throat. I struggle in her grasp, fighting against the hand on my back, holding me in place. ‘’Ah, ah, ah,’’ Wanda muses, placing both of her hands on my hips now, so harshly that her fingernails dig into my skin, ‘’that’s not the way to ask.’’ 

Tears find their way back to my eyes and drip hotly onto my chest. I wail into the sheets underneath me, ‘’please, please, please.’’ The words tumble over and into each other, blending together in a jumbled mess of tears and saliva, and muffled by the sheets. ‘’Pl-ease, I need- I- I- oh…’’

Wanda finally takes pity on me, sliding her strap into me in one thrust, the front of her thighs resting against my backside. Her skin is warm, but against my overheated clammy skin, it’s like she’s icy cold. I am so wet that she slides right in, with absolutely no resistance. She holds me there for a while, and I relish in the way we fit together, Her cock pressed snugly against that sweet spot inside of me. Then, slowly, one of her hands creeps up towards my scalp, sliding in between my hair and scratching softly. ‘’Detka,’’ she muses, her voice velvety smooth, ‘’remember that you asked for this.’’

Then her hand balls up into a fist, collecting a handful of my hair and pulling hard. At the same time, she thrusts her hips into me, so harshly that my full body lurches forward. I would have fallen if she didn’t have such a strong hold on me. Some part of it hurts, and I know I will feel her tomorrow, but for now the pain makes it feel just that much better, and when her cock rubs me in just the right way I howl from the pleasure of it. She gives me no time to adjust before she sets a punishing pace, laughing at the way I squirm under her. It is somehow both too much, and yet still not enough. 

Tears are steadily leaking from the corners of my eyes, and I’m having a hard time containing the saliva in my open, moaning mouth. Wanda delights in it, cooing at me with a slightly cruel tone of voice. ‘’You’re such a mess, baby. Is that really all it takes?’’ I can’t think, let alone string a sentence together. But she feels so good inside of me, and I need her to know this. In this position, I feel so totally enveloped by her, that it’s almost overwhelming. I suck in great lungfuls of air, trying to form any sounds that aren’t moans. I end up making some kind of wailing gasping noise, punctuated by a high-pitched squeak, as she tries to deliberately trip me up by giving me an extra rough thrust,

‘’Awww, what’s wrong, little dove? Is it too much? Do you need me to stop?’’ The hand in my hair releases its hold and my upper body, no longer supported by her strength, falls limply to the bed. She stays infuriatingly still inside of me, and I can hear her panting slightly as her hands cup my ass. When I try to move myself, they find their way back to my hips, holding me in place. ‘’Isn’t that better, dove? You were struggling so much, I think you’ve had enough.’’ 

I know she’s only teasing, but the threat of being left like this so horrifying that my tears begin to flow once more. ‘’No, no, no, no, please, please don’t.’’ I try to buck my hips into her, but I can’t move a millimetre with her holding me so tightly. She chuckles at my cries of frustration, clearly amused by this display of desperation. She pulls out lightly, just to tease me a bit, sliding her strap in and out in a slow and steady pace that leaves me reeling. I am so close, and I know that if she touched me in just the right way, it wouldn’t take long. 

In one final act of desperation I reach for one of the hands grasping my hips, and she must think I simply want to hold it, because she lets go of one of my hips to entangle her fingers with mine. Carefully I guide her around my body, flatting her hand so that her palm is flush against my skin. I find the spot with ease, and lay my hand over hers, pressing her into my lower stomach, where I know she can now feel herself inside of me. 

She swears loudly, and she moves experimentally to feel the bulge of her cock. ‘’Please,’’ I whimper, ‘’you feel so good inside of me, please, please, I need more.’’ I expect for this to break her, for her to finally give me what I want, but if anything it gives her more restraint. She relishes in the feel of her cock bulging in my lower stomach, I can tell by the way she presses down on me, and increases the force behind her thrusts. She refuses to speed up though, simply pulling out languidly, before thrusting back in with considerable force behind it. It’s sloppy, and on every other thrust her strap slips out and slides over my clit as she tries to push back into me. This act alone brings me right to the edge, the feel of the slick ridges of her cock over my aching clit, pulls the knot in my abdomen ever tighter. It’s so, so very close to what I need, but it’s still not enough. 

The frustration of the night, combined with the fears surrounding Wanda’s trip and the painful edging she’s putting me through, finally become too much. I let myself cry in earnest, feebly trying to buck my hips into her, trashing in her arms as she holds me close to her. I can’t take this any more, I can’t think, I can hardly breathe. 

‘’Say something nice,’’ Wanda muses, amusement clear in her voice, ‘’and I’ll think about letting you come.’’

‘’Mo-mmy-‘’ I whimper, no longer able to contain myself, too far gone to think straight, I echo Kate’s desperate plea from easier. Behind me, Wanda stills, her grip on me loosens, and I find room to throw my hips back, fucking myself on her cock. She doesn’t try to stop me. One of her hands finds its way to my throat, pulling me up slowly until I’m flush with her front, her breasts pressing against the bare skin of my back. ‘’Say that again,’’ she whispers, her breath hot against the shell of my ear. 

I’m so ready to come, I try to spread my legs, to slide my own hand down to rub at my clit, but Wanda is too quick for me. With her free hand she catches my wrist, and she holds my body in position with the combined grip on my throat and her thighs holding mine steady. ‘’I said, say that again,’’ she hisses, giving my throat an extra squeeze. 

‘’Mommy,’’ I whine, ‘’Please, I wanna- I- I need-‘’ 

‘’I know, little dove,’’ Wanda coos, pulling out of me fully, and guiding me to lay on my back, ‘’do you want mommy to make it all better?’’ Somehow, when she repeats it back to me the reality of what I’ve done begins to set in, somewhere in the back of my mind my anxiety kick-starts. Now there’s a battle waging in my mind, between shame and desire. But with Wanda’s soft hands on my skin, and the still slick strap bobbing between her thighs, my shame buckles for my desire. My face flushes, and I shake my hair in front of my face to hide myself, but I nod, and hum my ascent. Yes, yes, I do want her to make it better. 

She pulls a pillow from the pile at the top of the headboard, and manoeuvres it to fit under my hips. She looks magnificent above me, with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest. She’s nude, save for the harness around her hips, and I cannot believe that she is all mine. Some of her flyaway hairs stick to her sweaty brow, and I get the overwhelming urge to brush smooth my hand over them and press a kiss on her forehead afterwards. And I would have reached up to do it, but then she’s between my legs again. The strap, now slightly cold, but still slick, slides up and over my clit, and I am instantly and forcibly reminded of the intense burning heat in my gut. I was so close to the edge only moments ago, and as she warms up her strap, I am pushed right back towards that edge. 

When she’s ready, she holds my legs up and open for her. The tops of my thighs touch my stomach, and I squirm at the feel of my tummy being on display like this. I cringe at the thought of what I must look like, and Wanda must notice because she frowns slightly, her brows drawing together in disapproval. One hand leaves my thigh to cradle my cheek, and she leans in for a lazy kiss, open-mouthed and messy. When she pulls back, her hand finds its way back to my thigh, spreading me open. ‘’You’re stunning every day, my love,’’ she says, sliding the tip of her strap into me, ‘’but when you’re spread like this, ready for my cock, you’re absolutely ravishing.’’ 

When she slides her cock in all the way, she stays there for just a few moments, resting her forehead against mine. We let out a synchronized sound of contentment. I am beyond relieved to feel her back inside of me, the sense of completion is almost overwhelming. This quiet moment doesn’t last, however, because soon I am squirming against her once more. I grind my hips deliberately, feeling her moving in me. I look down to my lower stomach, where I can just make out the bulge of her cock. And without looking, I can tell she’s watching it too. 

Finally, finally, Wanda’s restraint gives out. Using her grip on my thighs as leverage, she pushes into me harshly, driving all the air in my lungs clean out of me. The feel of it is heavenly, and I want to arch my back, contort my face and howl with the pleasure of it. But Wanda can see my face now, and her view of my body makes me uncomfortable. I fight to stay in control of my reaction, fight to make myself look pretty, or at least presentable. Wanda, ever the observer, notices within seconds. ‘’Ah, ah, ah,’’ she chides, ‘’none of that, let it go now, dove. You’re safe with me, I’ve got you, just let go.’’ Mercifully, she leans forward, covering my face with her sheet of long hair, giving me a respite from the ugly feeling of being known. There, under the cover of her hair, and the safety of the crook of her neck, I allow myself to let go. 

In this new position, she’s resting most of her body weight on me, and she puts considerable force behind her thrusts. My moans are broken, and desperate, my voice cracking as I beg her to ruin me. I lose track of what precisely I’m saying, but Wanda seems to love it. With easy access to her neck, I lick and suck and bite to my heart's content. She turns her head slightly to make it easier for me to reach, and it’s clear that she’s enjoying herself from the way she shudders every time I run my tongue over the hard muscle in her neck. She moans softly when I bite down her tender skin, not hard enough to make her bleed, just enough to create a pretty red mark. Her moans make my head spin with want. The knowledge of being desired by her, is more erotic to me than any kind of physical touch could be. Wanda Maximoff moaning above me feels like heaven on earth. 

It doesn’t take long before Wanda’s movements become more frenzied, and I wonder if she, like me, is impatient for my orgasm to arrive. It’s only when she shifts our position, lowering one of my legs slightly to give herself a better angle, that I realize what is going on. She moans loudly and almost obscenely into my ear, and I wonder how I ever managed to live without having experienced this. Heat, like nothing I’ve felt before, erupts throughout my body. From the very tips of my toes to the ends of my hair, I am utterly incandescent. 

Her moans stutter in their rhythm, and I know what’s going to happen. I hold her tightly to me, my mouth on her neck, my legs locked firmly behind her back. ‘’Oh- oh God.’’ She keens, ‘’I- oh- I’m sorry honey, I think I’m gonna-‘’ I detach my mouth from the hickey I’m steadily developing at her pulse point for just long enough to moan out my response, ‘’Come inside me, please, mommy,’’ I plead, my voice obscenely high-pitched and whiney, ‘’you feel so good, please- please.’’

Wanda comes first, and it’s a marvellous fall from grace. She grasps at me, her body pushing into mine so firmly that it feels as though she’s trying to merge us into one. Her moans so close to my ear, and so desperate and needy, finally push me over the edge. My whole body seizes up so forcefully that I worry I might tear a muscle. I hold onto Wanda for dear life as she fucks me through my peak, her cheek pressed to mine as she rides out her own pleasure. 

It takes a while for us to come back to ourselves, both still reeling from our release. Wanda stills inside of me, propping herself up to come nose to nose with me. She’s laughing, but I feel beyond exhausted. Still, I encourage her gently to rest her full body weight on me and to keep her cock inside of me for a while. We snuggle like that, not speaking, just breathing each other in. My hand finds her hair and I scratch her scalp softly with my nails. My anxiety is creeping up on slowly, replacing the relaxation in my body steadily with that too familiar uneasy gut feeling. 

Even in this state, Wanda picks up on the change in me. I don’t know if I have given her any physical cues, or if she can somehow sense the change in energy, but she notices nonetheless. Without further ado, she makes us get up. I wince at the rawness of my body when she pulls her cock out of me, and Wanda laughs when she sees the state of her neck in the bathroom mirror. 

She draws us a bath, throwing in some lavender scented oil, and we both clamber into it on unsteady legs. We wash each other with soft cloths, and talk through some of our experiences of the night. Wanda has a lot of questions for me, which I understand. She wants to know why I didn’t go to her first when I was frustrated, and why I retreated into my head so much when we came face to face in such an intimate moment. But I’m too tired to open those wounds up now, and even the soft light of the bathroom feels too overstimulating on my tired head. So, kind as ever, Wanda accepts that today is not the day, and she merely draws me back to her chest, singing her lullaby to me as we hold each other close.

When the water gets cold, and my head feels a bit clearer, I hop out of the bath to dress myself in something cosy and warm. I have to dash through the bathroom, wrapped in my towel, to grab some clothes from my dresser. I decide against pyjamas, considering we still have guests. So, instead, I settle for a well fitting pair of black joggers and a wonderfully soft roll neck top. According to the clock on Wanda’s night stand, an hour and ten minutes have passed since I first made my way upstairs. 

I wonder what everyone else has been doing in the time we’ve been gone, and I wonder too if they know what we’ve been up to. But, I reason with myself, even if they know it won’t be a big deal to them, considering Agatha fucked Kate at the dinner table like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

I am beginning to feel the lack of dinner, though, and my stomach growls loudly when I re-enter the bathroom. Wanda has drained the bath by now, but she’s turning the shower head on. ‘’Aren’t you coming downstairs with me?’’ I ask, as I watch her step carefully back into the tub. ‘’I just want to wash my hair quickly, dove,’’ she says over the sound of falling water. ‘’You can go, I’ll join you soon.’’

***

I leave Wanda in the bathroom to take her shower, and head downstairs groggily in search of tea and a snack. I’m quite sure everyone left, because the house is dead silent, but I’m in for a surprise when I walk into the living room intending to pick up a blanket to stave off the chill running through me. Kate occupies the sofa, laying down with my favourite blanket covering her. Pepper and Maria are nowhere to be found, but Agatha is there, reclining in one of the armchairs, a paperback folded double in her hands, her glasses once more perched at the edge of her nose. 

She looks up when I enter the room, and suddenly I’m hyper aware of my messed up hair, and I’m grateful to Wanda for helping me to clean up. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if I had come down with my tear streaked makeup. Still, Agatha smiles at me as though I had come down looking freshly fucked. 

‘’I bet that was a weight off your shoulders, huh hon?’’ I stare at her blankly, my brain too sluggish to comprehend her words. She laughs, ‘’well, Katie and I went up to the guest bathroom to freshen up after our little session, and it sounds like you two had a marvelous time.’’ Mortified, I raise my hands up to my face to hide myself from her. It was bad enough that Wanda heard that outburst, but the knowledge that Agatha heard, and not just her but Kate too, makes my throat constrict painfully. 

Kate shifts on the sofa, turning her face outward and towards me. She’s clearly sleepy, her eyes half closed. ‘’She’s not teasing you,’’ she mumbles, ‘’I know it feels like it, but she isn’t.’’ She yawns hugely, turning over again, and settling the blanket over herself more securely. ‘’That must have felt nice to finally let out.’’

I shrug half-heartedly, embarrassed tears prickling in my eyes. Agatha rises from her chair, plopping her book down onto the seat, and whipping off her glasses. ‘’Come on, we should let Katie rest.’’ With a firm but gentle hand on my lower back, she steers me towards the door, leaving no room for argument. I don’t bother trying to fight it, and I allow myself to be guided through the living room into the bright LED lighted kitchen. 

When she lets go of me, I move away from her, hugging myself tightly, wishing Wanda would hurry up already. She leans back comfortably against the kitchen counter, and I feel myself shrink under her gaze. I want to turn around and walk away, or snap at her for looking me with those all-knowing eyes. I hold myself securely, shielding myself from attacks that won’t come, trying to breathe through the discomfort of being known. 

‘’I know that you feel dirty’’ Agatha says finally, breaking this awful silence, ‘’you’re ashamed, and you’re afraid of these feelings you can’t make sense of.’’ She steps closer to me, a strong hand outstretched, like a hunter approaching a startled deer in the forest. ‘’One day you’ll learn to proud of these feelings, and it will give you the peace you’ve always craved. But only if you open yourself up, and let us help you.’’

She’s so close to me that I can feel the heat radiating off of her body. She smells like lavender, and the veins of her hand stick out like rivers carving a path through land. Involuntarily, my eyes flit down to her trousers, where her bulge is still visible. A shiver runs through me when I recall Kate writhing on her lap, Agatha’s strong hands holding onto her, delighting in her pleasure, in the way she begged and the words she used. Unashamed, ecstatic, and free. 

Fresh tears dribble slowly down my cheeks, and instinctively I turn to face away from her, but she’s too quick for me. In half a heartbeat she has me pressed tightly against her, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other resting on my lower back. She rocks me lightly, shushing me, in a way that is too clinical to be motherly. Still, this display of gentleness from her shocks me so much that I don’t even fight against it, instead I welcome the wave of tears that rolls over me. ‘’I’m disgusting,’’ I manage finally between the tears and the heaving breaths I have to take, ‘’I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’’

She lets go of me now, the moment of affection passing just as quickly as it came. She’s back to scrutinizing me, but now there’s something like pity in her eyes. It makes the underside of my skin itch. ‘’Why do you think you’re disgusting?’’ 

The notepad is back, arrows and lines and squiggles and stars all over the paper. I didn’t even see where it came from. The lights are too bright, and the counters smell like lemon. It makes me feel somewhat nauseous. I look at the black ink when I speak, deliberately avoiding her gaze. 

‘’It’s not natural.’’ 

Agatha snorts derisively, ‘’depriving children of a loving and nurturing relationship to their parents isn’t natural. This response is nothing but natural. Your brain is protecting you, in the absence of a protector. You are trying to fill in the gaps, in the only way you know how.’’ I hug my chest again, noticing how little comfort I find in my own cold hands, now I’ve felt Agatha’s warm body against mine. ‘’What are you so afraid of?’’ She asks, her pen skirting over the paper. I like to imagine she’s writing my answer down for me.

‘’She’s going to think that I’m weak, and hate me for being so needy. I can’t let this out, because then I won’t know how to go back.’’

Her eyes twinkle when she looks up at me from her paper, the lines by her eyes contracting as she smiles. ‘’Have you spoken to Wanda about this?’’ 

My head hurts, and I can’t tell if it’s because of the crying, or the bright lights bouncing off of the white marble counter tops. I shake my head, my fingers picking at the skin around my nails, it’s already bleeding.

‘’Do you think you believe she won’t accept this side of you, because you don’t accept it?’’ I close my eyes, agitation returning to me. I’m too tired for this, I’m too tired for anything. ‘’I think you’ve made your judgement already. You clearly think that’s the case.’’

‘’I do,’’ she says, not the slightest bit of venom in her voice, though I had expected it. ‘’Clearly you loathe yourself so much that you’re depriving yourself of any form of love and acceptance she tries to give to you.’’ There is no malice behind this statement, but it still stings, and I flinch as though she has struck me. My nose has closed up from the crying, and I have to breathe through my mouth in an effort to steady myself, trying to hold back the next wave of tears. Agatha is surprisingly patient as I try to collect myself enough to be able to get some words out.

‘’I- I want to accept it.’’ I begin, my voice thick from the tears, ‘’I want it so bad, more than anything else, and I never thought I had an issue with accepting love, but- but…’’ I trail off, shrugging my shoulders half-heartedly, ‘’I don’t know, I’m just so scared uncovering all of this because if she doesn’t like me like this, I don’t know if I could bear it.’’

Agatha nods sagely, patting my arm in a vaguely comforting way. She reaches behind me for the paper towels, ripping off two sheets and handing them to me, so I can dry my eyes and blow my nose. ‘’You need to calm down a bit, alright, hon? I’m going to make us some nice tea, and then you’re going to listen to what I have to say.’’

There is no room for ifs or buts, so I just wipe my tears, and nod along. She kindly gives me a second to sort myself out, turning her back on me to put the kettle on. When my tears are finally dry, she sets a steaming mug of tea in front of me, and directs me to sit at the bar stool. She sits right next to me, so close that our knees touch. Her glasses are back on her nose now, and I’m grateful for the mug because it gives me something to do with my hands. 

‘’A mother complex in sapphic women is often viewed as repulsive by outsiders,’’ she begins, her voice reassuring and gentle, ‘’whilst a father complex in heterosexual women is very widely accepted, and people don’t bat an eye at a girl who calls her bed partner daddy,’’ she says, giving me a significant look, ‘’but a girl calling her partner mommy? They can’t cope with it. As a society we’ve been a bit desensitized by the word daddy, because we’ve been taught to accept it in a sexual context. The word mommy hasn’t got the same treatment, so it’s still viewed very much in the context of a mother and child. People find it especially inflammatory when a younger and older woman respectively engage in such a dynamic.’’ 

She lays a warm hand on my knee, and my skin burns with the contact. ‘’What you feel is normal, your inner child has been so severely neglected that she’s screaming for love and affection. You don’t need your mother, you need your mommy, and those are two entirely separate people.’’ 

I hang my head, letting out a shaky breath, ‘’I’m so tired of taking care of myself all the time,’’ I admit, my voice shaking. Agatha rubs her hand in gentle circles on my back, ‘’so let go, and trust that we will catch you.’’ Her use of we doesn’t escape me, but I’m too exhausted to question her on this. Her words sound so sweet, and so promising, I want to sink into her and let this all go. I can’t though, I know I can’t give into this temptation. My resolve is breaking, I can feel it, and it’s so hard to not give into her. A compromise then, however much the truth can be a compromise. 

‘’I really want to,’’ I begin, and I can already tell that she knows exactly where this is going. Maybe she knew where this day would end when she cornered me in the kitchen for the first time. ‘’But I can’t let myself do this, because I think it’ll ruin me.’’ Agatha gives me a sceptical look, ‘’you’re full of shit, did you know that?’’ I laugh, before I realize how serious her tone is. ‘’You’re going against your nature, and it’s going to end up hurting a lot more than it already is.’’ I shift uncomfortably in my seat, staring at the laces of her shoes. ‘’you don’t know that.’’ 

She laughs humourlessly, ‘’Which one of us has the PhD, hon?’’ I pull a face, unable to contain myself any longer. ‘’Are you this rude to paying clients?’’ This makes her smile, the curve of her lips breaking the icy cold mask that was previously there. ‘’No, lucky for you, you’re not paying me.’’

‘’I just don’t know how to accept it,’’ I blurt out suddenly, unable to bear this awful tension, knowing she disproves of my choices. ‘’She’s going to think I’m a freak, and she’ll hate me for it, and then I’ll lose her. But I want to let go just like Kate can, I want that so bad. I don’t know how to do that without terrifying Wanda.’’ 

‘’You underestimate her,’’ Agatha says, ‘’you saw how she was with Pepper and Kate.’’ 

‘’That’s different,’’ I say evasively, making Agatha roll her eyes. ‘’How is that different?’’ I shrug, ‘’it’s one thing to watch someone else do it, it’s another thing entirely to do it yourself.’’ Apparently that’s notebook worthy, because she scribbles something down messily, the pen excreting a bit more ink than is necessary, staining the paper with a dark blob of ink. ‘’I’ve known Wanda a lot longer than you have, and I’ve known her intimately. She’s insecure, and stubborn and just as afraid of you to admit it to you, but she needs someone to take care of.’’ 

I stare at the jet black blob of ink, focused on how it seeps into the paper. It bleeds into the thin white sheet like blood sinking into snow. A part of my brain itches with excitement, screaming at me to listen to Agatha. Another part of begins to loosen its grip on the doubt. 

‘’If it takes me banging your heads together to make you understand, I will.’’ She says, and I have a feeling that this isn’t a joke. ‘’In the meantime, let’s start small, with something you already know, but that isn’t fully in your comfort zone yet.’’ She pats my knee and smiles at me In a somewhat condescending manner. ‘’When we get back to the living room you’re going to kneel for Wanda, I know you enjoy that, so that should be a nice way to get this ball rolling.’’

I open my mouth to protest, several urgent questions rushing to the forefront of my mind, but she’s way ahead of me, holding up a finger to silence me. ‘’None of that, this isn’t a request, dear. Now, we really should find Wanda, she’s taking an awfully long time up there.’’ She’s up now, and peeking out the door, listening for movement upstairs. 

‘’H- how did you know, about the- the kneeling thing.’’ I say weakly. ‘’Hmm?’’ she hums vaguely, still alertly waiting for any signs of life from the upper story of the house. ‘’Oh, Wanda told me ages ago now. She said you were mad for it.’’

‘’Oh.’’ I say dumbly, thinking about Wanda and Agatha chatting about me in such a casual way. I wonder what else she has told her. The thought of it all makes my face burn.

A few more moments pass of the older woman standing guard at the door, before she finally shows a sign of life again. ‘’Wanda’s coming,’’ she warns, pulling my half drunk mug of tea from my hands, and dumping it out into the sink alongside hers. Hardly 10 seconds later I hear her footsteps on the stairs, and I can tell she’s about to walk past the kitchen, but Agatha calls out to her. 

‘’There you are,’’ Wanda says from the open doorway, and I’m so relieved to see her again, smiling and happy to see me, even after what happened. She leans against the frame, her hair wet and her shirt damp at the neck, smiling like everything is fine. It gives me hope that maybe everything is fine, and that Agatha is right after all. 

Agatha moves past us, muttering something about Pepper and Maria, and an unexpected zoom call. When the door falls closed behind her, Wanda stretches out her arms towards me, inviting me in for a hug. She smells like shampoo, and fresh laundry, and it’s the most comforting smell in the world to me now. She holds me tightly, one hand on my back, and another on the back of my head. We stand there for a while, silently swaying in each other’s arms. I don’t want to let go, so I hold on even when she begins to speak. ‘’Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened?’’ she asks, in a voice so gentle that I can’t even bring myself to imagine that she hates me for this. I shake my head as much as I can in this position, and mumble into the crook of her neck, ‘’no, please not tonight.’’ My voice cracks a little bit and I curse myself for this weakness when I feel her squeeze me a little tighter.

The voices from the living room have increased in volume, raucous laughter coming through the closed door. Just like that, the spell is broken, and we let go of each other. I yawn slightly, rubbing at my eyes. ‘’Do you want to go back to bed?’’ Wanda asks, surveying me with a cocked head. ‘’No, it’s okay, let’s go see the others and if I’m too tired I can always go to bed anyway.’’

*** 

Finally, we move to the living room, where Pepper and Maria have returned and are now laughing over some pictures on Maria’s phone. Kate has moved from the couch and is curled up comfortably between Pepper’s legs, kneeling on the plush carpet. They all smile when we enter, and I hide myself behind Wanda bashfully, flushing at the thought of Agatha or Kate having told them what they heard. They go right back to their conversation, though, and Wanda steers me towards where Pepper is sitting. I can feel Agatha’s eyes on me, and I remember the demand she made of me. Instantly, my heart picks up its pace and I can feel my hands beginning to sweat.

I’m saved from having to make the request, however, because Wanda notices how I haven’t sat down even when she indicated for me to do. She looks between me and Kate, who’s snuggled up close to Pepper. Then, she leans down to whisper in my ear ‘’do you want to sit up here, or kneel with Katie?’’ 

I fidget slightly, making eye contact, first with Agatha, who gives me a slow nod, and then with Kate, who’s looking up at me with a welcoming smile. ‘’It’s nice down here, you know?’’ she says, her voice friendly and teasing. And her encouragement, combined with Wanda’s reassuring squeeze to my hand, is enough to embolden me to lower myself down to my knees, even with everybody watching me. 

Wanda’s fingers find their way into my hair, Pepper and Maria continue with their laughter, Agatha winks at me, her smirk clearly showing her approval, and Kate’s fingers creep towards mine across the carpet, intertwining our fingers and squeezing in a gesture of sisterhood. It feels like she’s saying, see? Isn’t this nice? 

And it is, it really is. I squeeze back, and hope she knows what I mean.

━━━━━━━━━ ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯ ━━━━━━━━━

Taglist:

@swirlofsnow @emeraldevan @ichala @romeo-the-cactus @lainjupi @lissaaaa145 @princessprudy @333hhm @im-my-hope @inluvwithfictionalwomen @imthenatynat @imnotawitch @gay-trash-in-a-paperbag @messuhp @loudsharkface @ripofflizzie @alwaysbimyself @how-to-disappearrr @s1ut4nat @cookiesimpt

Next chapter ➵➵

[neptunes-blue]

Tag Game! Get to know me

Thank you for the tags @staud n @1waveshortofashipwreck sorry it took me so long to do this… i have been dead in tumblr 😢

Name: Jimin or Neptune (I SWEAR MY ACTUAL NAME IS JIMIN N I’M NOT A K-POP FANATIC PLEASEPLEAPSL)

Pronouns: any 💪💪💥

Star sign: virgo

number of siblings (+ any fun facts): One stupid little sister….

number of pets & their names: 12 goldfish! Uhh they don’t currently have names because I’m scared I’ll get too attached n my dad accidentally killed my last 7 fish 😔

Fandoms: hbowar, All Quiet on the Western Front, Hacksaw Ridge, Inglourious Basterds, Saving Private Ryan, Call of Duty (Black Ops), Red Dead Redemption

Favourite colour: DARK BLUE

Favourite song: uhh uhh right now I’ve been listening to a lotta Moving Out by Billy Joel

Favourite author (books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, etc): Donna Tartt is one, Tolkien… anything written by one of my dear friends on discord

Favourite fic type: Honestly… literally anything

Favourite holiday: Anything that lets me sleep n eat a lot 😴

Do you have a partner (romantic, qpr, etc)?: erm yeah, John Basilone and Bull Randleman (REAL NOT FAKE)

Hobbies: Drawing, model making, reading, writing, spending an ungodly amount of time on twitter…

Fun facts about you: I’m Korean-Chinese-Malaysian but raised in New Zealand!

I actually have no idea who to tag so.. free for all!

[vivi-in-the-sky-with-diamonds]

Where Heart Doth Hop

(Source)

In which you help three of four boys practice a certain Shakespearean performance.

Apologies once again for no posts. It's raining a lot here and the only internet I have is my hotspot and my data gets really slow when it rains. Finally finished reinstalling Windows 10 but now I have to reinstall Word with my slow ass internet >.> since my masterlist is a page and can only be accessed for editing on web (and since my internet is an actual ass), this one might not be there for a bit, but that's why we make master tags lol.

Like I said before, originally written for my Beatles dr but I honestly liked it too much to not post it. This isn't a direct manuscript of this performance, but it's pretty damn close. The audio on that performance (or at least the upload I've seen) was kinda bad, and the audience was super loud (understandably so) so some lines are directly from the original play or just referenced from an outside POV. I watched the performance and read the scene from the play several times while writing this to make it as accurate as possible. It's never explicitly stated where John is (I think at one point, I decided in my head, he was on a date or something), so you can choose your own adventure on that.

Proofed in UK English (probably). Checked with a random TTS website to triple-check for typos and me forgetting to change the person. Sorry I'm posting this at 3 AM, I procrastinated by sleeping all day (it was raining, I couldn't help it!) and then playing the Sims Medieval for an ungodly amount of time. Please excuse my sorry excuse for a name for this one, it's my favorite line and I couldn't come up with anything better. Enjoy!

“Y/N, can you help me with this?” Paul asks when he comes into the sitting room.

“Of course, love, what is it?” you reply.

“Well, we’re supposed to perform this Shakespeare thing and the lads and I wanna run through it, but, well…” He gestures toward George and Rich, noting the lack of John.

“Oh, I can do John’s lines,” you volunteer. “Which character?”

“Okay, you’ll be Thisbe.” He hands you what you assume is John’s copy of the script. “I guess we’ll pretend the coffee table is Wall.”

George and Rich stand back, Paul guiding you to do the same.

“O, I fear my Thisbe’s promise is forgot!” he begins. “And thou, o wall, o sweet and lovely wall, that stands between her father’s ground and mine! Thou, o wall, o sweet and lovely wall, show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eye— But what see I? No Thisbe do I see! O wicked wall, cursed be thy stones for deceiving me!”

He pretends to beat up whatever poor soul plays Wall before addressing the audience about Thisbe’s cue.

You walk to the table and clear your throat. “O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans for parting my fair Pyramus and me! My cherry lips have often kissed thy stones—”

As you continue your line, Paul addresses the audience again before standing across from you. “Thisbe!” he sings. “Thisbe!”

“What?!” you reply in fake annoyance. “My love thou art, my love I think.”

“Meet me at Ninny’s tomb straightaway.”

“Ninny’s tomb; is that still open?” You're trying your hardest not to laugh at the line as you both step back, allowing George and Rich to take their places in front.

“You ladies,” starts Rich. “You who fears the smallest monstrous mouse that walks the floor may now perchance both quake and tremble here, when lion rough in wildest rage doth roar!”

You and Paul nearly dissolve into giggles at Ritchie’s tiny roar before he continues, “And know that I one Ringo the drummer am, for if I was really a lion, I wouldn’t be makin’ all the money I am today, would I?”

He steps back, leaving George alone. You can tell George is having trouble with not having the hecklers' lines practiced, because he’s pure frustrated by the time he gets to, “Look, you, all I have to say is to tell you that this lantern is the moon, you see. I’m the man in the moon. This thorn bush here is my thorn bush, and this doggy-woggy here is my dog.”

You step forward. “So, this is old Ninny’s tomb. George, do you need something to hold in place of a lantern?”

George, with his arm suspended above your head, answers, “It’s fine. Keep goin'.”

“Right.” You feign knocking on the door before opening it. “But where is my love?”

Ritchie pops up in front of you with another roar; you scream, and he begins chasing you round the room before you end in what would be the background.

According to the script, you're—or rather John is—meant to drop a mantle, so you drop your handkerchief on the way back.

“Sweet moon,” says Paul, “I thank thee for thy sunny beams.”

As he begins another sentence, George shakes his head and gestures toward your fallen handkerchief.

“Hello, hello, hello, what’s this?” He begins his line as he picks up the fabric. “Eyes, do you see; how can it be? What dreadful dole is here! Thy mantle good, all covered in blood—” his accent makes the words rhyme, “—o dainty duck, o dear! Come, tears, confound! Out, sword, and wound—” he pulls an imaginary sword from its hilt “—the pap of Pyramus; that left pap where heart doth hop!”

You stare at him in adoration as he speaks, though you don’t think he notices, as he continues, “Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, now am I fled. Oh, well, you can’t win ‘em all. Tongue, lose thy light, Moon, take thy flight. See ya, George.”

George exits the “stage” as Paul begins fake stabbing himself. “Now, die, die, die, die, die!”

You skip in, humming a tune, and kneel next to him. “Asleep, my love?”

“Die, die, die!” he continues, still stabbing.

“What, dead, my dove?” You begin shaking him as you continue, “Pyramus, arise! O, speak, speak! Quite dumb. Dead, a tomb must cover thy sweet eyes. Those lily lips, his cherry nose, those yellow cowslip cheeks are gone, are gone. Lovers, make moan. His eyes were green as leeks.”

Paul is trying not to laugh as you say, “Tongue, not a word, not a word. Shut up!” You move to sit instead of kneeling. “Not a word. Come, trusty sword. Come, blade, my breast imbrue.”

You stab yourself with Paul’s imaginary blade before saying, “And, farewell, friends; thus Thisbe ends. Adieu, adieu, adieu!”

You and Paul take hands and lie backwards together as he says the line with you.

You're both laughing by the time you stand up.

“Right, I think that was good. Lads?” Paul looks to the other two for confirmation.

They both nod and Rich says, “I like her better than John. She takes the role seriously.”

[devondespresso]

WIP WhhhMonday Nightish

Once upon a time Devon was tagged in a wip wednesday by @eriquin and meant to do it but missed both wednesday and the weekend before remembering again. totally unrelated, Devon is working on getting their official adhd diagnosis.

i also noticed that the past snippets shared in wip-whatever posts have been purposefully the least interesting parts because i was worried about spoilers, which is dumb because that's created the unintended consequence of my tag is full of everything i don't like as much and a very different impression of what my fic is (as seen by most of these snippets being my rewritten scenes despite the actual fic being mostly new in-between scenes)

TLDR: WIP Whatever-day-it-is: But Actually For Fun This Time

The Rules

Post the file names of up to 5 of your WIPs for people to send you asks

Post a snippet of one of those WIPs

When people send you an ask with the name of one of your WIPs, write 3 lines of that WIP.

(Optional) Post the lines you wrote.

You can send multiple requests especially since this is going on through the weekend!

The WIPs

we're doing bulleted chapter titles to share from since that was my favorite and genuinely most productive format I've used. Feel free to ask for as many as you want, I plan on working on this basically all week

Karen Wheeler POV Bonus Chapter (Prologue kinda? side story in the same universe?? Bonus chapter set after season 1 and way before ch 1)

Steve, are you okay? Are you okay, Steve? (ch 9)

What's this? The consequences of my actions? (Is that a motherfucking Lovejoy reference?) (ch 10)

Kidnapping? no. surprise adoption. (lol get taken care of BITCH) (ch 11)

NEXT CHAPTER BC IDK HOW TO TRANSITION (ch 12) (a very tentative title for the next chapter to be written)

The Snippet

here is my favorite and most recent scene I've written, which takes place before they junkyard where Steve and Dustin are at the grocery store to get that ungodly amount of raw meat they have to toss around (also i've split chapters up a bit in the name of structure so the third chapter is now called "Mommy Issues Central". Lemme know any goofy vine reference ideas you guys have or if it should stay like that) (fear not, Get Yo Fucking Dog Bitch lives on still as chapter 4)

___

They turned down the next aisle, lining the edges of the cart with some other pasta-related shit that he could still probably use. They heard someone coming over from the next aisle and before he could turn the cart around Mrs Wheeler pulled up.

"Oh, Steve ...and Dustin. What're you boys up to?"

He took a short breath to work their story into something without Mike, but Dustin beat him to it.

"He's teaching me stuff." 

He was imitating the tone Steve used but still way too vague. Mrs Wheeler held up a smile, her brows slightly lifted.

"Y'know, like cooking-" Steve said, throwing in a little gesture to the cart.

"And cars, changing oil and things. Y'know just.. dad stuff."

Dustin's part convinced her, Mrs Wheeler's expression softening into a real smile.

"Well I won't keep you long," 

She nodded off to the side to talk to Steve one-on-one.

Great.

“Are you and Nancy okay?”

“Wh- we’re- Why? Did she say something?”

“No, no, she’s just been… closed off, lately. And I drove her to school the other day, she didn’t say why.”

“Sh- yeah, that- that’s on me. Sorry.”

“Did you break up?”

“No no, definitely not. We’re kinda… we’re working on it. I’m going to try and make it better, after y’know..” he gestured to Dustin behind him.

“Right.” she smiled again, “Let Nancy know she can talk to me about any of this? Please? I tell her but- I don't know, maybe it’d be different coming from you.”

He held up a smile for her.

“Yeah, sure. Mind if we..” he jutted a thumb towards the end of the aisle.

“Yes, go ahead.”

He gave her a short wave and turned back to Dustin, who studied random shit in the aisle like Steve would believe his sudden fascination with olive oil outweighed childish curiosity.

“Steve-”

He turned back around, seeing Mrs Wheeler coming back up to him and whispering again.

“I know I’m not your mother, but you can talk to me, too. Both of you, okay?”

He kept the smile in place and nodded again, and she finally went back to her cart.

Dustin “Definitely-Not-Eavesdropping” Henderson followed him out of the aisle, thankfully waiting until they were out of earshot to ask.

“What's going on with you and Nancy?”

“Thought we had ‘much bigger problems than my love life’?”

He pulled up to the deli, stopping to pretend to look at the options.

“We’re not dropping everything for it but we can still talk.” he groaned.

“I’ll tell you later, kay? Not exactly the best place to talk.''

___

Tags

@stobinesque @spoookysix @marvel-ous-m @alexcharmsyou @museumgiftshoperaser @blushweddinggowns @sharpbutsoft @fag4dykestobin @findafight (no pressure ofc and feel free to switch it to actually wednesday fhuhjdklashj) (also just let me know if you don't wanna be tagged in these)

[roxasxiiikeys]

I’m starting to think me and my family are never gonna get to move out...

I'm officially starting to lose all hope and think we're NEVER gonna move out of this horrible house and we're just gonna die of old age and poverty here.... It's been completely impossible to save any shred money for moving, and now that my dad just passed away on Christmas Eve, my mom has to pay the mortgage too on top of all the bills and food.... Making our financial position a thousand times worse than it’s already been... I have the GoFundMe page, but even though we raised $730 so far, I'm still losing hope because the fundraiser was made almost two years ago, it's been so unbelievably slow, and is nowhere near close to reaching our goal at all... I’ll share it, but I highly doubt it’ll make any difference at all... https://www.gofundme.com/f/7dks4d You have no idea how much I fucking hate it here, me and my family are miserable here.... The house is over 100+ years old, slowly falling apart, not heating, in the middle of fucking nowhere, far away from every vital thing... We've been stuck here for about 18 years now... I’m not even exaggerating, my youngest sister was born when we first moved in, and we’re still in this house while she’s about to turn into an adult... And I'm now losing hope... I'm sorry that this is out of complete nowhere, but I really needed to vent out my frustrations that I've been having these past two years.... You ever wonder why I keep annoyingly spam my videos so much everywhere with ungodly amounts of tags? It’s because I’m desperately trying too hard to meet the economy’s impossible and unrealistic expectations to help my family move out of this hellhole, but it’s been pointless and just borderline draining for my physical and mental health.... We have no other family here, all we ever want is to move somewhere closer to family, into a house that isn’t constantly crumbling and bleeding us money.... But this house feels like a permanent curse that we’re trapped in for the rest of our lives....

[leslie-lyman]

I posted 1,583 times in 2022

That's 878 more posts than 2021!

310 posts created (20%)

1,273 posts reblogged (80%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@oonajaeadira

@magpie-to-the-morning

@whataperfectwasteoftime

@radiowallet

@ezrasbirdie

I tagged 1,302 of my posts in 2022

Only 18% of my posts had no tags

#lovely people saying lovely things - 265 posts

#answered asks - 247 posts

#comment reblog - 239 posts

#emma you beautiful tropical fish - 64 posts

#pedro pascal gifs - 60 posts

#samg!inspo - 58 posts

#les loves cat - 35 posts

#ask game - 29 posts

#pedro pascal - 27 posts

#adira my beloved - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#also speaking of beloved talented mutuals who could write circles around so many published authors jess please look in the mirror babe

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Punchbowls & Pincushions (Congressman Marcus Pike x f!reader)

summary: The duly elected representative from Texas’s 27th congressional district has a meeting, takes a walk, and meets a woman.

pairing: Congressman Marcus Pike x f!reader

rating: general audiences for this installment, though this series will be explicit and my blog and its content are only for those 18 and up

warnings: none

word count: 2.7k

a/n: Y’all, I’m excited for this one. This is the first installment of what I hope will be a more relaxed fit-ish series I’ve been thinking about for a long time: an AU in which Marcus Pike decides to turn in his badge and his gun and try a different kind of public service. I’ve just been waiting for the right excuse to finally get this first bit down on paper, so thank you as always to the lovely folks at @writer-wednesday for the photo prompt! Big thank yous also to @ezrasbirdie, @whataperfectwasteoftime, @magpie-to-the-morning, and @the-ginger-hedge-witch for letting me ramble at them about this idea for far too long, and to Birdie for looking this over for me!! ❤️

punchbowl: the Secret Service’s code name for the United States Capitol Building.

pincushion: the Secret Service’s code name for the Rayburn House Office Building, one of three main buildings where members of the House of Representatives and their staffs’ offices are actually located.

Main Masterlist. | Series Masterlist. | Taglist.

———

It’s not going to happen.

The words play on a loop in Marcus’s head as he tries to calmly traverse the halls of the Capitol.

Leonard, I campaigned on this.

I know, Marcus, I’m sorry.

Look, if this is about HR 86 -

It’s a matter of cost, Marcus.

Bullshit. The whole package is $57 billion. You’re telling me $100 million to expand drug treatment courts is the straw that breaks the CBO’s back?

It’s a miracle we got all the things in that we did. It’s gonna be hell trying to get this through the Senate as it is.

And what am I supposed to tell my constituents in the meantime?

To get used to disappointment. Or just blame the Senate. I always do.

See the full post

218 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

#4

Stranger At My Gate - Chapter 10 (Pero Tovar x modern!OFC)

A time-traveling Pero. A modern woman trying her best. A kitchen full of possibility. A helping of Midwestern kindness. A dash of magic. And a whole lot of Christmas spirit.

pairing: Pero Tovar x modern!OFC

rating: E 🚨 [18+ ONLY, minors DNI]

warnings: at the risk of spoiling things, SMUT; unprotected PIV; oral (f receiving); blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Pero having a pain kink; Pero having a lil bit of a breeding kink; ungodly amounts of fluff; one (1) instance of your author taking liberties with language history

word count: 7.3k

a/n: Here we are, folks. This is it. I’ll have more to say at the end of this chapter, and I’d strongly advise you to read all the way to the end. 😉 Also a reminder that going forward, I will only be tagging folks in my writing who have signed up via my official taglist form.

Extra major helpings of thanks and forehead kisses to @whataperfectwasteoftime for looking this over for me and for tolerating me tearing my hair out in her DMs over this chapter. ❤️❤️❤️

Previous chapter.

Masterlist.

———

Ten.

Panic seizes Tessa’s chest, robbing her of breath. A chorus of thoughts rise loud in her head, jumbled and half-formed -

He can’t have gone back

I’m late, I’m too late

So stupid, should have told him before I left

Too late too late too late

There’s no way to tell how old the footprints marking Pero’s path towards the woods might be, but after only a moment of paralysis, Tessa’s off like a shot.

He could have left hours ago, he could already be back in his own time and there would be nothing more that Tessa could do.

But she has to know for sure.

There’s no conscious moment of deciding - one second she isn’t running as fast as she can in the direction of the trees and the next second she is, never mind that it’s well below freezing with the snow coming down with an increasing vengeance. Never mind that she’s still dressed for air travel, in nothing more than jeans and a sweatshirt and cute little ankle boots that are definitely not meant to go trudging through more than half a foot of snow. Her coat’s still in the back seat of her car but she can’t stand to make even the smallest detour for it. Pero may be long gone, but if he isn’t, if there’s a chance she could still stop him and ask him to stay, who knows how long she has. Ten seconds to grab her coat could be the difference.

Pero’s footsteps get more difficult to follow once she hits the tree line, but her Gift is not called intuition for nothing. She can feel some sort of instinctual pull towards the Gate, or maybe it’s towards Pero, aided by the faint ghosts of memories of her childhood spent playing in these woods. She tries to yell Pero’s name, but the freezing air burns in her throat as she attempts to draw enough breath to keep moving as fast as she can.

An eternity somehow fits into the handful of minutes it takes her to make it to the small, perfectly round clearing where the two trees that make up the Gate stand. She’s never been this close to the Gate before, and certainly not when it’s been open. Apart from the slightly unnatural placement of the trees, there’s nothing that gives it away on sight. But it throbs with power, emitting a warped vibration Tessa cannot truly hear but rather feels deep in her bones. Something about it calls to her, as though its magic recognizes the kindred spirit of her Gift. But whatever being or force created the Gate was many times more powerful and ancient than the source of her Gift, and if she looks directly at it for more than a few seconds a vague sense of vertigo starts to make itself known at the edges of her vision.

What small amount of light was left in the day is almost completely gone, the snow on the ground doing little to reflect it back as fat flakes continue to fall. Tessa can’t tell if Pero’s footprints continue across the circle to the Gate. She takes two deep breaths, then opens her mouth to let out the scream she’s felt building since she walked in her front door to find her house cold and empty -

“I’m here, Tessa.”

Her head whips around at the sound of his voice so quickly she hears her neck crack. She squints through the snow and darkness and sure enough, sitting on a fallen log just outside the edge of the clearing, is Pero. Tessa has to make a hasty grab for the nearest tree to keep from collapsing in relief.

“Pero,” she croaks, her voice nothing more than a cracked whisper.

He stands and comes closer. He’s dressed in his original clothes, the hilts of his swords visible over his right shoulder. The only modern item on him is the thick wool coat he’s been using the past few weeks.

Even once he’s close enough to see his features his face is unreadable. Tessa likes to think she’s gotten fairly good at interpreting Pero’s expressions, having learned just how much this man can say without any words at all, but apart from the tightness at the corners of his mouth, it’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep his face as neutral as possible.

Seconds tick by without either of them saying anything. It’s like Tessa’s emotions are all laid out on a roulette wheel - panic, joy, despair, relief, exhaustion - that’s spinning too fast to figure out what she’s actually feeling at this moment. Then the little white ball falls from the track and sticks in the groove of one emotion in particular.

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274 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

#3

Euclidean Geometry

Summary: They make no attempt to define what this is, who they are to each other. All they know is that now they are together.

Pairing: Modern!Pero x Frankie x Jack x f!reader (sort of, this is in the third person, reader is referred to only as she/her)

Rating: E 🚨 absolutely no minors

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, M/M and M/M/F; some implied D/s dynamics; allusions to the lingering trauma of military service

A/n: I don’t know what this is (other than absurdly self-indulgent nonsense), but this idea hooked its claws into me and this is what resulted. It’s just kind of a series of snapshots, really. No plot, just vibes. There may be more after this, we’ll see.

Masterlist.

———

They don’t meet each other until after their time in the service.

Thank god, Pero tells them. I surely would have otherwise murdered you both long before now.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one: three veterans walk into group therapy…

A Delta Force pilot in recovery. A surly Field Artillery officer. A cocky Air Force fighter pilot with a name as ridiculous as his skills in a jet. All here because they are each too full of anger with nowhere to put it.

Talking at therapy turns into talking at a bar after each session. They circle each other, like a pod of killer whales, or maybe like galaxies, pulling closer and closer together over bottles of beer and games of pool.

None of them can say the exact moment it became more. Was it the first time Jack accidentally brushed a hand across the small of Frankie’s back as they walked out of the bar one night, and he felt the shiver that went up the other man’s spine? Was it the night Pero finally spoke about the loss of his first love, his description of William and his death on a desert battlefield making all three men shed silent tears in the privacy of a dark corner booth? Surely it had to have been long before they found themselves in Jack’s bed that first time, letting their bodies say what they could not yet find words for: I want you, I trust you, I know you, I see you.

They make no attempt to define what this is, who they are to each other. All they know is that now they are together.

They each crack the others open, the process of healing as painful and beautiful as filling in their scars with gold.

And then there is her.

The relationship between the three men had not been a closed loop, not at first. There had been times where one of them (Jack, more often than the others) had gone off and for a one- or two- or (never more than) three-night stand with another person. And there had been other times where two or even all three of them had shared a temporary partner. But with her, it clicks, it solidifies. They stop searching for more, for new, for other.

If three’s a crowd, what is four? A square, a shape beautiful in its simple perfection, a shape that can only be composed of equals - each line and each angle taking up equivalent space, none more or less important than any of the others, and each one essential.

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291 notes - Posted July 25, 2022

#2

Waterproof

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Summary: Watched The Bubble. Had a thought. That thought was: I wanna edge Dieter Bravo until he cries and ruins that silly eyeliner.

Rating: 🚨 E for explicit, folks. NO MINORS.

Warnings: edging, obvs; unprotected PIV; dom!reader and sub!Dieter; Dieter Bravo being soft and respectful and having puppy dog eyes that are impossible to resist

Word count: 1.3k

a/n: Yeah I dunno what happened here, either. I intended for this to be a drabble to get this idea out of my head and practice writing some smut, and it ended up being over a thousand words. None of us is immune from this man, it seems. Not beta’d, barely edited. The gif above is an edging joke.

Masterlist.

———

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

It’s so direct that it catches you off guard.

There’s something in the way he says it, too. There’s no arrogance in his tone. He isn’t smug or suave like you’d expect. He’s a movie star. He’s an Oscar winner. He’s Dieter Bravo, for fuck’s sake. But instead of a smirk and a smoothly delivered pickup line, he’s looking at you over the bar top of the fancy estate chosen to house the cast of ”Cliff Beats 6” with huge brown eyes that are full of hope, not expectation.

It’s a simple enough question.

It’s also a bad idea. You’re hotel staff. He’s the fifth-billed actor on the sixth installment of the 23rd biggest action series of all time.

But he asked so politely. There’s an open earnestness on his face that tells you he doesn’t want you to say no, but he’d respect it if you did. And it all makes you suspect that this man, with his broad shoulders and large hands and soft eyes, may enjoy the same kinds of things you do. That he may make a rather complimentary bed partner. You decide to test your theory.

“That depends, Dieter.” You rest your elbows on the bar top and lean closer to him like you’re about to share a secret. “Would you be a good boy and do exactly what I say?”

His eyes go black. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

It’s a simple enough question. He gives you a simple answer.

“Yes ma’am.”

———

You don’t get to cum until I say you do, Deiter, is that clear?

Crystal.

You got a safeword?

Academy.

Jesus Christ.

You push him down into a fancy armchair covered in embroidered silk in the corner of his suite, a set of rooms that probably costs more per night than you make in a month.

Dieter still has his makeup on from today’s shoot, a not-terribly-subtle dark smudge under each eye, and it enhances the eager puppy look he has going on, almost like he cannot believe his luck. You clamber into his lap and feel him already starting to harden through his sweatpants. An experimental grind of your hips draws a little moan from his throat so you do it again, and again, the soft friction against your clit and the increasing size of his erection making your core start to throb with arousal.

“Please,” he murmurs, “I want - can I - ”

You run your thumb over his bottom lip, stilling your movements.

“Easy, sweet boy. What is it?”

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360 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Rights and Wrongs

summary: “I’m not keeping it, Jack. I knew that before I called him and told him. I don’t know if I want kids, but I do know that I don’t want them now. Not like this. And not with him.”

Or: Whiskey helps you get an abortion.

pairing: Whiskey x f!reader

rating: M

word count: 6.4k

warnings: possible dead dove do not eat; unplanned, unwanted pregnancy; early pregnancy symptoms including vomiting; descriptions of what pregnant people have to go through to get an abortion in the state of Kentucky; abortion clinic protestors and physical and verbal harassment of patients; reader has a medically unnecessary but state-mandated trans-vaginal ultrasound; use of moderate anesthesia and recovery from anesthesia; allusions to past loss and trauma (it’s Jack, I’m assuming know his backstory); not super-explicit description of reader getting a surgical abortion; Jack being a little naive in the way well-meaning straight white dudes often are but also being pro-choice as f*ck

Author’s note:

*Fleabag voice* This is a love story.

Hey there folks. Please read the warnings on this one. I know that pregnancy can be a tough topic for a lot of people to read about. Everything I’ve described here is what you actually have to go through to get an abortion in Kentucky. (Or, well, it was, until two days ago when the Kentucky legislature overrode the Governor’s veto of HB 3, which has resulted in a complete stoppage of all abortions in Kentucky.) If this is not a thing you want to read about, for whatever reason, I respect that completely.

However, if you read this fic and think it might be a good idea to spout some anti-abortion nonsense at me in response, I am going to pre-emptively suggest you kindly shove it up your asshole instead.

Abortion is health care. Abortion is a human right. You will not move me on this. I wrote this fic because I have a lot of anger and fear and frustration that the human right to bodily autonomy is about to be completely gutted in my country. But I also wrote it because abortion is normal. People get abortions every day. And I wanted to write and read a fic where reader gets her happy ending with Jack and an abortion is how it happens.

Additional note: This fic is also a fundraiser! April is when many abortion funds host their biggest annual fundraisers, and you can help! For each note this fic gets between now and the end of April - every like, reblog, and comment, even the ones that are me replying to someone, and hell, I’ll include asks and DMs about this fic too - I’ll donate a dollar to the Kentucky Health Justice Network, a fund providing direct financial and other assistance to people in Kentucky who need abortions.

If this sounds like a journey you’d like to go on with me, then let’s go.

Masterlist.

———

This afternoon has been taken up by two phone calls you never thought you’d have to make.

The first to the Kentucky Women’s Health Clinic. The second to your ex-boyfriend.

The call with the clinic goes well, better and easier and kinder than you’d expected, even if their first available appointment is further out than you’d prefer. The call with Michael goes even more poorly than you’d thought it would.

He hadn’t been your ex for very long; only about two weeks. Your breakup had not been amicable; nearly three years of dating had come to a car wreck of a conclusion when you’d discovered explicit texts and photos of several other women on his phone, going back months. He hadn’t tried to argue with you when you’d confronted him; instead, he’d blamed you for his forays into infidelity. You worked too much. You were too focused on your career. You didn’t devote enough time or effort to your relationship anymore, so no wonder he’d started to look elsewhere. Never mind that this was the first time you were hearing these complaints.

You weren’t heartbroken so much as furious. Furious with him, but also furious with yourself for not seeing the signs and ending things sooner.

And now, calling to tell him about the…situation you find yourself in only leaves you feeling humiliated.

“So this is your ploy, huh?” He says after you’ve explained. “This is how you’re gonna try to get me back?”

Your mouth hangs open, and for a moment all you can do is splutter wordlessly in rage.

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523 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[solar-halos]

okay i need to stop posting in the middle of the night bc the last two times i did that i was doing entirely too much in the tags + posted a torso reveal (as if i’m not a pic of snoopy walking around going 👍) but i need to keep talking about lucy grays rainbow dress. so here’s an unasked for progress check + the inspo for the top i wanna crochet in case i wanna connect the skirt to the shirt to actually make it a dress lol:

okay i put a cutoff here bc i wanna rant but don’t wanna put such a long post on anyone’s dash <3. but for the top it was a toss up between a puff sleeve and a corset but i decided to go with the puff sleeves for a few reasons

1) it’s giving 1890s. not to sound like a nerd but i had a huge historical fashion phase when i was younger and i’m in love with the idea of lucy gray’s puff sleeves representing a different era (since, yk, ballad in general represents a diff era)

2) i’ve never crocheted a puff sleeve top before so it would be fun to try hehe (but i have crocheted a corset top and it does not Stay Up so, in the event that lucy gray was performing in an all-yarn outfit, that would not be very practical for her)

3) okay wouldnt the sleeves subtly fluffing around as she performs be kinda cute? obviously they’re not gonna be super fluffy or anything (just the amount of floofiness in the pic) but it’s kinda like a less intense version of the skirt ruffling

speaking of the skirt:

ohhhh my good. i alternate between loving and hating the white panels but tbh there’s nothing i can do unless i wanna drop an ungodly amount of money on a skirt that’s not even my style. but good thing it’s my sisters style (actually it might not be she looked at it and went “omg omg it’s so cuteee <3” and when i asked if she herself would wear it she went “o.o welll..” so maybe i’ll just have to do my hair and makeup entirely different to sell that this is in fact my style bc no way am i not wearing something i spent literal money + time on). sorry that was a tangent but it’s around knee length rn and i think i have enough yarn (of the rainbow color scheme and scrap yarn) to make it a bit longer. i’ve always envisioned lucy grays dress as a maxi, so maybe i’ll get one more skein of yarn at the end of the month since they’re having a sale. but the whimsy when it comes to wearing this skirt is unreal. like when i put it on i always gotta do a little spin to see the ruffles shift. and that’s actually another thing that makes me convinced that lucy grays skirt is a maxi bc making it into a mini skirt was atrocious. and that’s saying something bc if my entire ass isn’t hanging out of a skirt then what the fuck am i even wearing it for. but it just looked a bit strange and i thought it was bc there was SO much volume on top and it made me a look a bit disproportional, but once my mom stopped going “that’s a lot of colors going on” she had an answer that (while very crude.. and maybe a bit problematic) explained things:

“you look like a pedophile’s dream”

yeah. to be clear i don’t agree that women who dress in ruffles and pastels and things that are considered “childish” are trying to appeal to pedophiles, but keeping the skirt so short and colorful and ruffly made it look very Young. also making it longer added to the whimsy since there’s more fabric that swooshes around when you spin

okay i think i’m done. so thankful that i have tumblr now bc where else was i gonna rant about rainbow dress omg. but tbh i think i’m gonna take a break from making this before i get burnt out and finish a chapter for a fic bc the hg grind never stops. bye!!

[softredrobin]

My Top 5 Redacted Audios, SFW version.

Thanks to @dominimoonbeam for the tag!! Here are the audios I listen to with reckless abandon. I’m about to perform a self-callout, y’all. Before I get into it,  here are some tags! I’d love to see the top five for other folks but of course no pressure! I’m only gonna tag ppl who weren’t tagged in the same post as me, but sorry for any double tags if you got tagged elsewhere I don’t usually tag folks eep: @solclaw @lovelylonerliterature @calicostorms @gingerbreadmonsters @beemybella @mrs-theirin @onesmallcentury edit: ofc the tags broke, the one time I do anything on my computer instead of on mobile. if ur getting this notif late or have now been tagged in others my bad

Up first is our one and only, Cuddles and Confessions with Your Vampire Mate. I listen to this one in the mornings when I’ve woken up but have time to doze for a bit. I love Sam and I remember the ungodly amount of repeatedly listening to this audio that I did when this came out... The pantry part also makes me laugh every time.

Next up, a spot goes to Comforted By an Arrogant Incubus. I love this one so much it really is unseemly. When I think of Gavin I just go :-) that’s my pretty boy. Also, there’s something about 14:00-16:25 that really gets to me... haha, let’s hear it for Freelancer’s relatability, folks.

Coming in sleeby is my regularly-frequented insomnia video, Cuddling In Bed With Your Tsundere Werewolf Boyfriend. A lot of people swear by the storm comfort video, I know, but this video is the one with the most success in knocking me out... though Ollie’s newest video is also proving effective. While there are some others I’ll jump around to, this one generally will do the trick. It is a godsend to bitches with awful awful insomnia (it’s me, I’m bitches).

Next up is a non-canon video, and I’m sure it will not surprise anyone that it is Heating Up in the Bedroom With Your Himbo Boyfriend. Y’all, I’ll be real. I listen to all three elemental confessions pretty much equally --  I love confession videos. But Huxley’s HBW really just has a lil somethin somethin, y’know? Nothing quite like being nervous to meet your boyfriend’s moms and then he breaks out the sweetest, sweetest shit ever to make you feel better. This shit makes my cheeks hurt, I can never stop smiling while listening to it. Also, the ramble at the beginning which leads to forgetting about the initial point? A mood.

Last but far from least, it’s back to our southern gentleman with Vampire Tends to Your Injuries. “But Ren,” you say, “you already have a Sam video on this list!” I know, I know... but I really do listen to this one a lot. I’m a Sam Simp through and through, plus comfort videos tend to be my jam... as one can tell from this list.

Here are some honorable mentions:

Your Werewolf Boyfriend Finds You Having a Panic Attack: this one isn’t on here only because it’s fairly new. I’m sure it’ll catch up though, at the rate I’ve been listening to it.

Meeting Up With a Tsundere Fire Elemental

Comforted By Your Werewolf Boyfriend (Milo)​

[alelelesimz]

I’m new to your tumblr and was looking through your wcif tag and… wow. You are seriously insane for being able to answer so many and so thoroughly? Like, how do you keep everything so organized?

And also, is your mod folder like, super massive? 50 GBs? (Sorry, I’m genuinely just curious because I always feel like my mod folder is too big, but I never seem to have enough in it when I open the game. CC addict much?)

lmao i used to get an ungodly amount of wcifs back when i used to make those huge townie makeovers but lately i've been linking the cc i use and rarely get wcifs anymore :p

as for organization, not really. i have a bunch of folders for my cc, it's not the best but i guess it works for me? to find cc i use the tray importer but most of the time i just remember who made the cc cause i overuse the same few creators anyways haha.

my mods folder is currently 80,2 GB holy shit!! i need to purge it!