#i miss that actually. that was such a time of my life

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five, five being the most recent part. read part five here

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t��stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Lando Norris and [Y/n] Wolff are an on-and-off thing, fans think they're all good after [Y/n] releases a song supposedly about Lando, but they forget he's not the only Brit on the grid.

username1 HE LAUGHS AT ALL MY JOKES

↳username2 AND HE SAYS I'M SO AMERICAN

username3 sorry but in which part is y/n american?

↳username1 her mother, Y/m/n Y/l/n, is American and Y/n spent most of her life in the US after Y/m/n and Toto divorced

username3 oooh good to know, thank you!!

username4 I'm so happy to know Y/n and Lando are still together after all

↳username5 But they were never official

username4 But it's obvious! They were seen on dates many times, hanging out around Monaco, not to mention every time Y/n is in the paddock she spends more time in the McLaren garage than Mercedes'

username6 my fav nepo baby <3

username7 damn Lando must be doing a good job lol

username8 Y/n finally released a love song, everybody thank Lando

username9 Weren't there rumours about them being over forever just during the winter break?

↳username10 Toto would find a way to get Lando kicked out of F1 if he ever broke Y/n's heart lmao

username9 What does Toto gotta do with McLaren?

username10 He's rich? Lol

username9 And? Stroll's daddy is rich as well yet he can't make idk Verstappen disappear lol rich doesn't mean he can do anything he wants

username11 Guys I have a bad feeling, we actually haven't seen them together in a long time , I'm afraid they might be actually broken up for good

↳username6 I wouldn't read too much into it, Y/n studies in Monaco so she isn't able to attend races right now

username11 You sure? Y/n hasn't made a single appearance since the season started

username6 The season started in the middle of her uni year lol you ever thought of that?

↳username7 this is literally a love song, how are we even wondering if they broke up? she wouldn't release this if they were done

username6 THIS!! I feel like this song is a confirmation from Y/n that all is good, maybe she was tired of people talking if they're broken up or not

username5 Then why don't they make it official?

username6 that's not a question i can answer

username12 "I'll go anywhere he goes" then why aren't you attending races miss girl? Education can wait

↳username2 lmao it literally can't wait

username13 "the books you read" ma'am, Lando looks like he hasn't touched a single book his whole life

↳username12 And it's not like he dresses that well either, his style is nothing special

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

y/n's texts with Lando

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

username1 All men are the same I swear

↳username2 nooo I swear there are good ones, but that's just not Lando

username3 excuse me sir, y/n has just written a love song about you

username4 NOOOO THE WAY HE PUT HIS HAND ON THE GIRL'S LOWER BACK

↳username1 Him and Y/n are done frfr 😭

username5 Do we know who the girl is?

↳f1gossip Not yet, but I'm sure we'll know in no time

username6 Wtf is wrong with you, it's not her fault Lando can't focus on one woman

username7 But there's no way she didn't know about him and Y/n ;)

username6 There is/was no "Lando and Y/n", they never confirmed a relationship

username8 He's just won in Miami, I was hoping they'd make it official after that :(

↳username9 Sameeee it would be so cool

↳username10 Literally same, it'd be perfect

username11 Lando Norris, you disappoint me again

↳username12 at this point Y/n must be used to that lmao poor girl I hope she finds someone better

username13 WHAT DOES TOTO SAY ABOUT IT?

↳username3 Whats he supposed to say? Y/n is a grown woman, stop treating her like a baby

username14 I swear if we see Y/n back again with him after THIS I'm gonna break some dishes

↳username15 Yeah I hope she'll find some self respect and finally leave his ass

username16 Y/n I beg you to leave him, the d can't be THAT fire

yn_wolff posted on instastory

landonorris replied to your story:

↳mind if i join?

yn_wolff:

yeah lol don't join

landonorris:

i was gonna sail today anyway, what if we do it together?

hey i think i see u thru my window who are u with?

yn_wolff:

with dad and susie

stalker ass creep don't get anywhere near me today

landonorris:

I see another man

who is he?

*seen*

y/n answer me who is he

is that russell?

fucking russell wtf is he doing there

he better keep his hands away from you

what the fuck why are u hugging him

yn_wolff:

i'm hugging george and I'll do something worse if you don't stop with ur stalker shit

landonorris:

what the fuck do you mean y/n

yn_wolff:

don't worry, I'm sure that blonde girl would love to give you a hug, you should go see her

landonorris:

she's just a friend

y/n you're mine

she doesn't mean shit to me

don't show my texts to russell

yn_wolff:

Hello it's George, stop texting my girlfriend or we'll have to tell Toto

landonorris:

girlfriend?

username1 Right after? The Lando thing was yesterday

↳f1gossip Yeah, and this was this morning

username2 Whats Y/n doin with George? 🤨

↳username3 in case you forgot she's y/n WOLFF, the daughter of Mercedes' boss which GR drives for

username4 After seeing Y/n's story I hoped she's finally spending some time with Lando but...

↳username5 Have u seen what Lando posted? 😂

username4 What did he post?

username5 Oh apparently he deleted it already lol it was a story

username5 Anyway he posted like a lowkey thirst trap pic and the music he added was Tumblr girls by g eazy lmao

username4 Boohoo consequences of his own actions catching up

username5 Yeahh and he especially chose the verse that goes like "fucking off and on, always stop and go, probably got someone, choose not to know"

username6 Guys, I say we take in consideration the possibility of 'so american' being about George

landonorris Monaco weekend 🇲🇨☀

view all comments

username1 Why do I feel like he posted this just so people think Y/n was there with him even though there's not a single pic of her? 😂

↳username2 Bro why he want her when he can't have her anymore?

username3 get over it, it's your fault

username4 I feel like he's tryna say "Hey guys look, Y/n took these pics" but why would we believe it 💀

↳username1 Exactly!! We all KNOW she most likely spent the day with George

username5 Now all i think about when i see Lando is the story he deleted 😭

↳username6 totally hahah he literally called Y/n a bitch but also admitted that he can't help wanting other girls

username7 Wait when did this happen? When did he say that?

username6 he never said that, it's lyrics of a song he posted but quickly deleted

username5 He immediately regretted hahah

username8 @/maxfewtrell Tell Lando to behave, why are you even helping him with this bullshit?

username9 It's too late, you had your chance FOR HALF A YEAR and still chose to lead Y/n on, now she got someone else and you're being petty

↳username10 She let him lead her on for half a year? Damn it he should pay for her therapy

username9 I feel like she really hoped she can change him but realized "if you can't change the man, change the man"

username10 Very accurate lmao

username11 Guys, I believe Y/n and Lando were a thing for much more time than half a year, it was going on for at least a year, they were just very secretive about it

username9 Well, good for her to finally get out of this shit, she deserves so much better and I hope George will give her that

username1 I bet Toto loves his new son in law

↳username2 He has to be very relieved to know Y/n chose George eventually

username3 We still don't know if they're dating, remember George drives for Mercedes

username4 I really hope Lando is crying rn

username5 Now Lando for sure can't trick us into thinking Y/n was with him lmao

username6 I love George for saving Y/n

username7 I love them, they're all so old money, Y/n and George are a great match

username8 MY DELULU IS BECOMING TRULULU

username9 This is our confirmation that so american is about George

username10 I feel like Y/n upgraded at some point but at one point also downgraded

↳username2 Let's not talk about it, we should be happy for her and George, at least he won't treat her like an option

username11 George is literally THE MAN for Y/n, I'm so glad she finally realized that

↳username12 Chill, let's not assume stuff before we have any statement from them, we all know where assuming can get us

username13 This is my old money dream

username14 HEAR ME OUT but I'd actually love to see George and Y/n get married one day

↳username12 THIS is exactly where assuming can get us

yn_wolff Oh you'll like him, he's really kind andhe's funny like you sometimes, and I found someone I really like maybe for the first time

view all comments

username1 I'm so happy for them I'm gonna cry

lewishamilton Invite me next time!

↳georgerussell63 Toto said it was family only, I'm sorry, Lewis!

↳yn_wolff Ask Ferrari to invite you wtf

username1 lmao only Y/n Wolff can talk to a 7 times world champion like that

username2 YESSSS IT'S OFFICIAL

↳username1 Y/n is officially free from Lando!!

username3 I love the vibes, I love the fact that Y/n is dating a driver from her dad's team, I love the fact that Toto accepts it

↳username4 He must've been going CRAZY when Y/n had the situationship with Lando

username3 Absolutely and I think we all know about Toto's anger issues lol

susie_wolff 💝

↳yn_wolff 🩷

ymn_yln I hope George knows he's welcome in America too 😊

↳yn_wolff Of course!! We have a plane on Friday❤️

↳georgerussell63 I wanted to take Y/n to Miami so we can visit after the GP, but she refused 😔

yn_wolff Shut up I have uni!!

georgerussell63 It can't be more important than me meeting your mum

lilymhe Beautiful couple 😚

↳yn_wolff @/susie_wolff it's about you and dad💕

lilymhe Might as well be 😂

username3 Susie and Toto literally are Y/n and George in like 20 years lmao

alex_albon Finally, no more secrets

↳username2 ALBONO KNEW?

username4 Phew I can't imagine how much stress it was for him 😂

username5 George just MIGHT be the guy which so american is about...

username6 Something about this relationship makes me feel so at peace and I don't even know them in person

charles_leclerc Someone check on Lando😂

↳yn_wolff Charles 💀

username5 Is he wrong tho

username7 I laughed harder than I should've

↳username8 Betting all my money he's regretting all his actions

username9 As he should tbh imagine leading sb on for about a year, people who do this are evil

username8 Yeah, that was so wrong of him

username10 No but I need to know what books George reads tho

landonorris 👍

↳yn_wolff Stalker ass you don't even follow me

↳username4 THE AUDACITY

landonorris I hope you'll have fun while it lasts

↳yn_wolff YOU'RE the one to speak about lasting

↳georgerussell63 Not your place to worry about it🙂

username5 THE EMOJI MAKES IT SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

username1 "THE WAY YOU DRESS, THE BOOKS YOU READ" he dresses well✅ he looks like he reads✅

username2 He's the perfect man for Y/n frfr

username3 I'm so happy that it's not about Lando after all, I was like girl he's treating you like shit and you write a love song??

username4 I've been waiting for it for YEARS

username5 So they had a thing for no longer than since the end of winter break and already made it official

↳username2 Something Lando couldn't do for almost a whole ass year lmao

username6 But have y'all noticed how obsessed with Y/n Lando is suddenly?

↳username1 of course he is, that's how it works, he's been rejected so his fragile ego is hurt

username3 He's even liking fans' edits of Y/n😭man is manifesting hard but I doubt anything can help him

username7 Good to know George's hands are warmer than hell, they don't look like it

username8 Girlie deserved a man who doesn't have commitment issues aka is a real man, I'm glad she got him

username9 Y'all think Lando reads Y/n x reader fanfics?👀

↳username1 Totally

↳username2 I can imagine it

↳username3 He'll do it until his delulu becomes trululu (it'll never happen🔥)

username10 I'll laugh so hard if now Lando will now stop fooling around with other girls 😂

username11 Can't wait for a whole album full of love songs about him

↳username12 I don't think we'll have to wait for long

[odinsblog]

“I had a Zionist grandmother who grew up, she grew up in Poland, she was supposed to go to Israel to study. Her father had paid for her for the first year of tuition. And then in 1939, when she was in her last year of high school, Germany and the Soviet Union invaded Poland.

She ended up for a couple of years in the Soviet-occupied part of Poland, which was how she ended up in Moscow. And by the time Germany occupied all of Poland. So then she spent the rest of her life living in Moscow.

And 45 years after the end of the war, dreaming of being able to go to Israel, but not being able to because she was now stuck in the Soviet Union. And so I think I was very infected by, infected in a non-derogatory sense, by my grandmother's dream of Israel. And I had my own dream of Israel growing up as a, as a Jewish kid who was bullied and beaten up and teased.

I just wanted to live in a country that, that was majority Jewish. I could not understand why my parents would want to go to the United States and live in another country where Jews are in the minority. My parents on the other hand just didn't want to be Jewish.

Like their only experience of being Jewish was being systematically discriminated against. They were both born during the Second World War, so they were second generation, utterly non-religious and separated from any Jewish tradition, except the tradition of being a targeted minority. So they just, they just wanted to go somewhere where they wouldn't be Jewish.

And so when I was 15, a year after we moved to the United States, I actually went to Israel planning to stay there and didn't. For a variety of reasons, but one of them was being confronted with, with what I found at the age of 15, a shockingly racist society.

So the first time I went to Israel was when I was 15, it was 1982. And then there was like an 18, 17 or 18 year gap.

And I started traveling to Israel regularly from 1999, 2000. And the first time I went back was to actually complete the research on the book about my grandmother's. So it's been a good 25 years that I've been coming back.

And I think Israel has undergone a lot of changes in that time. But no, I don't think that like the kind of Ashkenazi Sephardic racism that shocked me in 1982 has found subtler expressions. But politics of settlement have only been exacerbated.

And I still find them extremely painful to observe, especially because some of my beloved relatives are settlers.

I did visit them this last time I was in Israel, because I really wanted to see what it looked like for them.

I was compelled to go visit them because of a Facebook post that my cousin made. And just to give you an idea, I really hold these people very, very dear. But for years, I would go to Israel, Palestine and not tell them that I was there, because I kind of couldn't face them.

So it's been a number of years since I last saw them, a number of years since I went to that settlement. But my cousin had posted something on Facebook. It was a picture of her son playing the violin.

And she wrote, in one of the houses where they stayed in Gaza, there was a violin. He played for his soldiers and then put the violin back. And I found that post-heart trending and eye-opening, the picture of him playing the violin was not from Gaza.

It was from earlier, but he had apparently told her about playing the violin in Gaza. And obviously she was worried about her son serving in Gaza and so she's posting about it. And she wants to assert that he is a good boy.

But also, entirely missing from that post and from her world view is that somebody lived in that house in Gaza. That violin belonged to somebody. Like, it was such an extraordinary example of the blindness that we were talking about a little bit earlier that I wanted to go visit them and kind of engage with that blindness more.

And I got a really good dose of blindness to the point where, and we had this incredible moment when we went walking around the settlement after Shabbat lunch. And we sort of got to this hilltop where there's a swing and there's a little free library.

And we're looking out on a Palestinian village. And I said, what are we looking at, to my cousin? And she was trying to get her bearings.

And she said, where are we looking? And she named another settlement, which was kind of, which was not on our line of sight. It was like this literal example of looking at an actual Palestinian village that she drives past every day.

And before the village was sealed off after October 7th, she used to get gas there. And she knows it exists. But somehow she, also it also doesn't enter her geography.

It is nameless.”

—Masha Gessen, the descendant of Holocaust survivors, discusses the dehumanization of Palestinians (part 2 of 3)

[astral-realities]

would you mind telling us about your architects?

SDA: Of course. My architect, Golden Thread in an Ornate Tapestry is...

SDA: ...was…

SDA: …a person of many talents. Her interest in art and fashion allowed her to become a well-known designer. In addition, they were tasked with my development, and dare I say - she did great.

SDA: She was …. a lovely person to be around. I’m proud to call them my friend.

BROS: (What they won’t tell you is that she became an architect mostly due to their mother’s status…)

BROS: (… who happens to be the main engineer of Vastness of Silence…)

HS: Eleven Claws, Eternal Grace. Though he usually went by just “Grace”.

HS: While there were those who deemed his approach to some matters controversial, he was an important figure in the scientific community.

HS: His team and I worked hard to help him fulfill his visions.

BROS: (Habitually Stargazing has too much respect for his creators to admit Grace was not a very pleasant person to be around…)

TFB: Spring after Storm, Ruby Blossoms Flourish.

TFB: There isn’t much for me to say about them.

TFB: They pioneered a couple of gene alteration algorithms, I suppose. Many of the creatures in my area are the descendants of their experiments.

BROS: (Flowers wasn’t very fond of her creator, though I believe she never spoke of this disdain directly. She continuously worked on her tasks while they were still around.)

BROS: (Oh, my turn!)

BROS: This is Quicksilver Rains from Dark Clouds! We usually called her Rains. Or Clouds, or Silver, or anything in between.

BROS: As you can guess, she’s my architect! Legend has it she built me due to her dissatisfaction with the quality of medical care in the area.

BROS: Rains strived to improve the quality of life of those around her - though she’d never admit she actually cared about them that much! She was a rather reserved person, but if you got to know her and her sense of humor, it was great.

BROS: I do miss her at times.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Gojo Hearing “I Love You” for the First Time

I gen. have no clue if anywhere in the series anybody has said they loved gojo. Whether platonic or not. Its interesting and I was just thinking.

CW: Mentions of Gojo’s Past(some canon some not…so spoilers ig if you haven’t read the inventory arc), Established Relationship, Mentioned Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Some Angst(?), Soft Gojo, Reader speaks Spanish because I’m projecting 😋, Kisses

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

“AND THAT’S WHY I DO NOT LIKE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!..IT WAS VOMIT EVERYWHERE!”

“Can’t believe you managed to eat 6 boxes of cookies in one sitting.”

“Hey! Don’t judge it was a marathon of Digimon playing all day…good times. Not as good as the time—“

And there he goes again, your big over 6’6” boyfriend laying on his back on the couch having another yap fest after a long trip. It started off with a quiet evening of you both eating and watching a childhood movie to then actually sharing stories of your past.

You really couldn’t be more enamored by how excited Satoru gets when he speaks to you. His smile is wide from ear to ear and his dimples grow deeper. He’s also so expressive with his hand gestures you really don’t know where to look as you lay comfortable on his big broad chest.

Usually when he begins to speak about his life before you, you try to absorb and savor every moment. Since your friendship in high school Gojo wasn’t much of a talker (ironically) about his life, but as you both grown closer since his big mission with Geto to watch over Riko he managed to get a bit more comfortable with telling you more about himself.

It’s been 11 years since then and after some therapy sessions with you, Geto, and Gojo three of you managed to learn how to express yourselves in a healthier way with each other.

You watch now, almost 1 year into your official relationship with him and noticed he doesn’t talk much about his parents. Nor an adult in his life that was like a parent to him at the very least. Even when in High School you never met his family. You knew of his clan and that was all.

You always wondered where did he get his wild energy from? His dad? Where did he become so affectionate through touch? His mom? It was all a mystery you wanted to understand.

You’ve even asked Geto, his closest best friend what does he know about his mom and dad, but he always ends with “It’s better you wait until he tells you himself.”

You didn’t question it more, you respected the decision so thats exactly why you’re here. Watching and listening attentively to what your boyfriend has to say. It makes you happy seeing how much he has grown more comfortable towards you towards the years.

“And when I was 8 I remember my folks always gave me free range to use my technique whenever to practice, but boy they regretted after an hour because I—-baby.”

Without noticing your eyes blinked back at him as if you began to come back to reality again, Gojo seen the relaxed look you given him as he spoke, how your eyes were on his, but he just knew you—

“‘ not even listeninggguhhhh.”

Putting your thumbs on his pouty bottom lip, they’re so soft you smile at him, it wasn’t really something you’d expect to say to him, but his pretty big smile, his deepened dimples, everything about him caught you in a moment of venerability you just decided to softly speak at him;

“I love you.”

…just like that it was a pause.

It just slipped off the tongue. You meant it, but finally saying it out loud was a bit of a shock to not just you, but more Satoru. He had an unreadable look on his face, almost as if he didn’t catch what you said, but he definitely did. He couldn’t miss the way his body tensed up hearing those three words.

“What?”

Gojo didn’t say anything, almost as if it was a staring contest you rise from his chest to straddle him, “Are you okay?”

You jumped feeling the pads of his thumb dig into the fattiness of your hips, almost as if he were trying to massage you….very painfully. He got up though, placing you down on the couch and walking to the nearest bathroom without saying a word or looking at you. You could’ve sworn he wiped his face momentarily.

“Go—?”

He didn’t mean to, it was almost a reflex. Your words though, kept replaying in his head . He felt a bit silly being so dramatic , ironically but he couldn’t properly process what you said.

“Satoru?” You knock on the door breaking him away from his thoughts, “You okay, papa? I—oh.”

He opened the door, putting back on his eye mask and giving you one of the fakest smiles you ever seen him do.

“What are you doing, you okay?”

“yeah yeah I’m fineeeee. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“W-wait!” You playfully scoff at his eagerness as he pulls you to the front door, “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable….I know it was sudden and random, but I meant it.”

Gojo turns and exhales, clearing his throat he begins to scratch the back of his head, you can tell he is scrambling for words so you continue; “I do love you Satoru. A lot. I think I always have since we were younger, but I don’t know…today made me realize I should verbalize it.”

He wants to speak, but for one of the first times you left him wanting to just listen to you. Honestly you took advantage of it because who knows when you’ll be able to get him this quiet.

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I love the way you explain things, I love the way you are, I love the way you care, I love how you can get on my nerves.” You ends the last part with a giggle making him finally chuckle with you, and he brings you closer to his chest. “I love you, Satoru. You are an amazing person and I am very blessed to have you as not only a friend but a partner.”

It was all too much, he felt overwhelmed he had to lift his mask to wipe the tears welling on the side of his eyes, he chuckles again, the free hand on your waist tightening, “Well damn if I didn’t know better I’d think you have a crush on me.”

You laugh, “Maybeeee…..Now. “ You smooch his cheek before grabbing your phone, “Let’s go get some food—-“

You tried walking past him towards the door but he grabs you from behind to hug you close, you can hear his shallow breaths in your ear. You’re used to his tight squeezes from behind but this one was firm. Almost as if he let you go you’ll fly away.

“Say it again.”

You smirk, his voice quivering but trying to be masked by a fake pouting tone, “I love you, Satoru.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again, but in Spanish.”

“Oh brother.”

“C’mon you sound hot when speaking Spanish.”

“Te amaré para siempre, Satoru…”

If words could explain how he felt right now with you, the closeted would be a weight being lifted off his shoulders. For a moment he no longer was Gojo the strongest sorcerer, he was Satoru.

Just Satoru.

Something he wanted to be for a long time, and now you are helping him take the first step into that.

You inhale his scent; mint, expensive cologne and his natural musky smell you love so much and rub his head as he is still buried in your neck. You turn to face him and grab his cheeks, almost hesitantly to cup them because you weren’t sure if he’d left you see him cry. Though you felt your shoulder dampen.

However he let you, his big blue eyes surrounded by a tint of pink, he tried laughing it off and he actually broke eyes contact with you, “I …um…heh..fuck—“

You knew what he was trying to say but you don’t force him, instead you place your lips on his, you felt him exhale, his body relaxing in your touch, “I know, Satoru. I know.”

Gojo couldn’t properly register why he was so overwhelmed with whatever he is feeling right now but he wouldn’t trade this feeling in the world. He honestly wanted to replay the moment you said you loved him on repeat all day.

Later that day you both go out and have your own last minute date for the evening, he wanted so badly to tell you he loves you back by trying to incorporate more of the word “love “ in his vocabulary, by saying things like “I know you LOVE this.” Or “Wouldnt you LOVE for me to take you here.” but it was hard and he sounded silly.

Satoru wanted so badly to tell you he doesn’t just love you, but he has fallen IN love with you.

Gojo finally found just one more person that gave him something he didn’t realize he needed;

To feel human.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: Leaps of Faith

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024 

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow. 

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest. 

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens. 

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly. 

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression. 

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”. 

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully. 

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week. 

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings. 

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look. 

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.  

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart. 

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe. 

And then Paige looks away. 

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air. 

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together. 

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times. 

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige. 

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams. 

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome. 

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get. 

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere. 

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words. 

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin. 

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this. 

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too. 

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith. 

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically. 

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back. 

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow. 

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever. 

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against. 

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home. 

***

July 2024 

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly. 

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough. 

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing. 

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit. 

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too. 

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle. 

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer. 

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter. 

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied. 

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe. 

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed. 

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room. 

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place. 

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.  

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough. 

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings. 

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand. 

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe. 

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again. 

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance. 

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship. 

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically. 

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose. 

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away. 

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?” 

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically. 

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale. 

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige. 

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand. 

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp. 

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever. 

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks. 

Click. 

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together. 

***

December 2024 

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin. 

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other. 

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window. 

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty. 

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile. 

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious. 

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand. 

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other. 

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi. 

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them. 

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head. 

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun. 

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship. 

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles. 

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life. 

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde. 

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it. 

“Say it again,” Paige demands. 

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. 

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

[permanentswaps]

Family Reunion – Catching Up With Alex

Inspired by @bodyswapper, specifically: Family Reunion Pt. 1 and Family Reunion Pt. 2. Also read my sequel Family Reunion – Steve’s Youthful Journey.

Two years have flown by since that unforgettable family reunion, and let me tell you, life couldn't be sweeter. I wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and marvel at the sight of this perfectly chiseled physique. It feels like winning the lottery every day. Seriously, if you could see me now, you'd understand why I have no regrets about what I did.

You see, I've fully embraced being Alex. It's not just about the body; it's about the confidence, the charm, the sheer power that comes with it. And let me tell you, I'm living my best life.

But about those family reunions? Yeah, I steer clear of those now. Sure, there's a part of me that misses the chaos, the laughter, and the strange tradition of swapping bodies. But the risk? Nah, not worth it. Even though I bound Uncle Steve to secrecy with Grandad's ancient magic, who's to say some other mishap won't expose the truth?

Like what if I got chosen to swap and it failed cause I sealed myself in. I don't need anyone digging into why it didn't work. (Honestly, I don't know the full extent of the magic binding me to this form, but I'm not eager to test its limits.)

Or, what if Uncle Steve or anyone else wins contest, and then gets Grandad to lock tem in this body instead. I mean, would you put it past them? This physique is like a work of art, and it would only be a matter of time before someone else has the same bright idea I did.

Besides, I've got plenty of other things to keep me occupied. Actually, to sidestep any questions from family about why I’m perpetually absent, made a bold decision: I relocated to Paris.

Now, to keep myself financially afloat, I decided to do something that perfectly complemented my newfound physique: I started an OnlyFans account. And let me tell you, it's been quite the hit. People from all around the world want to catch a glimpse of this body, and who am I to deny them?

With each sultry photo and steamy video, my following grows, and so does my bank account. It's surreal, really, how quickly it's taken off. But I guess when you're blessed with a body like mine, the world can't help but take notice.

As my OnlyFans grew, it caught the attention of some Parisian locals. Now, I'll be honest, my French is still a work in progress, but I manage to get by with a charming smile and a few choice phrases. And let me tell you, it hasn't hindered my social life one bit. Take the other night, for instance. I received a message from a guy named Benoit, a suave Parisian with an air of sophistication about him.

Benoit was only 24 years old, but he had the confidence of someone who had the world at his feet. Rumor had it he was the heir to some extravagant family fortune, and let's just say his lifestyle reflected that.

As I stepped into his apartment, I couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer grandeur of it all. From the plush furnishings to the sweeping views of the city skyline, it was clear that Benoit was accustomed to the finer things in life.

Over glasses of champagne and whispered conversations in broken French, Benoit and I shared stories, laughter, and more than a few lingering glances. Benoit was an intriguing combination of intelligence and physical prowess, his toned physique a testament to his dedication to fitness. Yet, despite his apparent confidence, there was a subtle hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

As we moved closer, the tension between us thickened. With a primal instinct taking over, I wasted no time in asserting my dominance. In a swift motion, I threw him down onto the bed and began to tear off his clothes, exposing every inch of his flawless skin. My fingertips danced across his body, tracing delicate patterns along his curves, eliciting shivers of pleasure from his trembling frame.

As I teased the outline of his cock and balls, a low, guttural moan escaped his lips, his head falling back in ecstasy. And then, in a whispered plea that sent a shiver down my spine, he uttered those three words that ignited a fire within me: "S'il te plaît, Daddy."

Hard as a rock, I moved upwards, brushing my lips against his neck, a soft sigh escaping his lips as I whispered, "Suck my cock, boy."

Without a moment's hesitation, he eagerly obeyed, taking me fully in his mouth.

After a few minutes of sheer ecstasy, I gently grasped his chin, guiding his gaze to meet mine. With a silent command, I motioned for him to kiss me, and he responded without hesitation, his lips meeting mine in a fiery embrace.

As our tongues tangled in a dance of passion, he shifted his position, straddling his legs over my waist, his body pressed tantalizingly against mine.

As we continued to make out, I couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. Guiding my throbbing cock between his cheeks, I felt the heat of his anticipation radiating against my skin.

A flicker of hesitation crossed my mind. I really shouldn't be doing this, not without protection. But as he looked down at me with those pleading eyes, his moans a symphony of desire, it was all the sign I needed.

With an urgency that eclipsed all rational thought, I thrust my cock up into his tight hole, the sensation of his warmth enveloping me in a wave of ecstasy. Holding down his shoulders to prevent any chance of escape, I surrendered myself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of our shared passion.

As I continued to pound into him, his expression transformed from one of initial discomfort to one of immense pleasure. The tension in his muscles melting away.

After a few minutes, we shifted positions, moving into missionary. With me on top, I took control, my hand wrapping around his cock as I stroked him in time with my thrusts.

Looking up at me with eyes squinted in pleasure, he uttered those words in the most adorable accent, "I'm close."

Keeping pace with our rhythm, I encouraged him with a husky whisper, "Fuck yeah, baby, say my name."

And with each desperate moan, each syllable of my name rolling off his tongue in a cascade of pleasure, I felt a surge of raw desire course through me. "Alex. Aleex. Aleeeeexxxxxxxx," he moaned, his voice a melody of ecstasy that echoed in the dimly lit room.

"Putain," I moaned in response, our bodies trembling in unison as we released our loads at the same time.

Basking in the warm afterglow of our shared passion, I couldn't help but marvel at the thought that if I “frenched” like that every day, I'd be fluent in no time.

[moondirti]

ghoap x nanny on🔝

they would go bananas trying to find her a Mother’s Day gift because even though she’s not she’s still so important to baby isla

UK mother's day is in march but i'm putting this out for the US folk <3 also not part of the main series! takes place an undefined period of time later, where isla is about 1 yr old, so the end of part 2 doesn't hold weight here

"Stop messin' with it. You'll ruin the wrap job."

"I'm tryin' tae curl th' ribbon. Eejit at the store forgot tae add th' mae touches." Johnny presses his thumb to the blade, tongue poked in concentration as he follows the tutorial. The lady in the video makes it look so easy, dragging her grip along the length of a blue streamer so that it jumps into a little ringlet when she releases. "Ye think women dinnae notice these touches but thay do. I had tae specially instruct th' flower guy up in Glasgow ower th' phone tae make sure he wrapped mah maw's bouquet in brown paper, fur apparently there's a difference."

But all the scot manages to do is slice his thumb open with Simon's knife, blood beading along the wounded site. He jerks away before it can stain the present, popping the digit into his mouth while begrudgingly handing the tools over to his partner.

Who does it with ease.

"Tha' wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Awa' n bile yer heid." Johnny grumbles, twisting his head to check out the window. "She said she'll be back by now."

"Who'll be back by now?"

The sing-song voice catches them both off guard, the pair clambering to hide the subject of their concentration, open-mouthed as you slip out of your pastel yellow galoshes by the door. An impish smile splits your cheeks, positively delighted by the fact that you were able to sneak up on them.

Isla shouts an approximation of your name from her playpen, pulling herself into a stand and waving her little arms around until you swoop in to pick her up. Simon feels his heart race, anticipation coating his palms in sweat as you sway with their little girl bunched in your arms.

"My little Isla-bug! Missed you so much baby." You coo, pressing kisses to her cheek. But Isla isn't interested in greetings. She squeals, legs flailing and finger pointing accusatorially at her fathers.

"Bug! Bug! Da an' Pa!"

"Are Da and Papa bugs too?" Johnny shuffles in place, scratching the back of his neck when you waltz suspiciously towards him. Almost as if you're trying to sniff out the clues the baby lays out for you, like a little detective duo. "Do they have a bug?"

"Yer a wee clipe you." He narrows his eyes at Isla, bumping noses when she giggles at his feigned grumpiness.

"Don't tell me you actually do." You straighten seriously, frowning once you notice the hand Simon keeps behind his back. "Si, I swear to God. I swear to God if that's a bug you're hiding I'll scream. I'll tell Price–"

That does it. He extends the gift before you misinterpret this further and make good on your threat. He can only imagine the awkward phone call with the Captain, who favours you more than he does his own team sometimes. It would not bode over well.

"Happy mother's day, love."

You clamp a hand over your mouth, eyes immediately glossing up in tears.

They discussed who would do this part – this vulnerable profession of how much you mean to them, to Isla. Because you're not her mum. Your name isn't on any of the adoption paperwork. You'd only come into her life when she was five months old, and there's no legal or biological ties linking the two of you together, or you to the boys. Just this human, very fragile bond you've forged over the past year. Something undefined, unnamed, but so magnanimous in its existence that it cannot continue existing without acknowledgement.

And while Johnny felt like the natural choice, Simon knew it'd mean so much more if it came from him. He's the one with the history, after all. The one who denied you a place in their life, again and again. Who wrote off your bids to help and took you for granted until it damn near drove you away for good.

It's clear that it hits you hard.

You pass Isla over to Johnny so as to hug yourself, staving off the waterworks by biting your lip. For a moment, that's all you do. Stand there and stare down at the wrapping paper with all the apples on it, the sleek coiled ribbons. Simon's hand shakes a little, unsure, but then you take it and crush him into a hug so tight, it's almost instinctual to push you off.

He doesn't, of course. Instead, his arms curl around your smaller form, cold fingers warming themselves on the curve of your shoulder.

"Thank you." You sniff from against his chest, then gracefully step back to address Johnny too. "Both of you. I can't– I'm so overwhelmed, I don't know what to say. Can I open it?"

"O' course." Johnny nods, sitting back on the couch and patting the open space next to him. Isla pulls on his overgrown mohawk, but the pain is nothing compared to the joy warming his heart. You're so beautiful like this. Flustered. Emotional. He could just bundle you up and hold you forever.

The bow comes undone with one tug. You take your time with the wrapping paper, though, peeling the tape off gently so it doesn't take off the pattern underneath. Your boys sit on either side of you, arched over like a pair of nervous schoolboys.

"My–"

It's a charm bracelet. Dainty gold links extended to the exact circumference of your wrist. Relatively empty, save for a few exchangeable starter baubles and a ladybug charm that hangs right at the centre.

"Bug!"

You laugh like summer rain. "That's right! It is a bug, clever girl. Can you say ladybird?"

"Lalalalala–"

"She'll get i' soon." Johnny smiles. Simon offers a large hand, slipping the bracelet out of it's box. You give him your wrist, and he clasps it shut around.

"Fits like a glove." He murmurs.

Ladybugs for fortune and grace.

You're their stroke of good luck.

[feverdreamsandlucidnightmares]

So how badly do we think it fucks with Andrew that he agreed to stop protecting Neil a few hours before Neil was kidnapped and tortured?

[17020]

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'RE A MOTHER.

With no actual babies or children, you still manage to become a mother. The Blue Lock men have given you the gift of motherhood. Fem!Yn, some characters are missing i'm sorry.

A huge, colorful bouquet with tulips, roses, baby's breath, and lilies carefully sat on the coffee table inside your shared home. He was sitting on the couch behind it, a box of chocolates in hand, at his side lays the child you have spent the last few months caring for, wearing a party hat which was now crooked from its movement. Its tail wagged in excitement, and it sprung from its seat as you came near; your boyfriend pulling out a small card from behind the box.

"It's not much" he smiled, handing you the card, "but it's your first, and mine too." The card is beautiful, in the cover being an oddly shaped heart—drawn by him—filled with red glitter which had spread all around the card. Inside was a picture of the two of you, of the day in which you first saw your 'baby'.

It was nostalgic, the passage of time. What had started as a small, timid puppy was now the happiest, most brilliant canine the world had ever seen. The other side contained his handwriting, which spelled out a sentence you were once sure you would never hear at this point in your life. As if he had been reading your mind, he reads it aloud. "Happy Mother's Day, my love." Buckle up! A journey with a four-legged friend is one to cherish forever. With him, you are the proudest dog mom.

YOICHI ISAGI, Meguru Bachira, Rensuke Kunigami, Oliver Aiku, Jingo Raichi, Shido Ryusei (let's be honest, his hard would probably say "Happy day, ma"), Chris Prince.

A nice, candle-lit dinner is what awaits you at home. You stepped inside your apartment, and to your surprise, your lover is sat at your dinner table, arranged with a floral centerpiece, lit votive candles, freshly plated takeout (as he could not cook for the life of him), and a furry feline sitting on his lap. The cat's sparkly red collar had heart-shaped balloons tied to it, the balloon almost completely covering your boyfriend's peaceful expression.

"Happy Mother's Day, babe. (Cat's name) and I figured you'd like a family night to celebrate." He smiled, with you walking towards him and picking up your cat, cradling it in your arms. You placed a quick peck on its forehead, and your boyfriend excitedly pointed towards the seat on his side. On his side? There were three seats now—

"Since this is family night, (Cat's name) will be joining us. The catnip hasn't been served yet, I was waiting for you to come" he explained. You softly placed the feline on it's chair, earning a meow in return. Family dinner had gone by much too quick to your liking, the kitchen walls echoing with laughter as you and your boyfriend spent the rest of the night browsing clothes for your cat, sharing a few pecks now and then, because "moms need to replenish themselves with kisses." Congratulations on motherhood! With him, you will become the best cat mom.

REO MIKAGE, HYOMA CHIGIRI, Tabito Karasu, Jyubei Aryu, Rin Itoshi (though his affection would be much more reserved, we still love cat papa Rin), Eita Otoya.

He waited for you inside of your room, sitting on top of your desk. Beside him is an unfamiliar new decoration, a new accessory to your room. To him, though, it's much more than that. "You're back" he states, "I got you something while on the way home. This old lady was selling plants and I thought I'd get one for us, y'know? For our home."

Our home. It had such a nice ring to it, you thought. Taking a closer look at your desk, you noticed the small, brown pot with green growing out of it. It was a jade plant. You thanked him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into your embrace. Naturally, his arms wrapped themselves around your waist, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"You know what the lady told me?" he questioned, "She said this could be like our child." You could feel warm breath on your skin as he let out a small chuckle, with him pulling away to capture your lips into a sweet, quick kiss. "So, does this means we're parents now?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows in excitement. He nods, "I bought some of your favorite sweets, y'know, to celebrate, I guess." His cheeks, as well as the tips of his ears, were now a familiar shade of pink. "Happy First Mother's Day, angel." As long as you take turns with him to water it, he's more than happy to make you a plant mom.

SHOEI BAROU, Nagi Seishiro (a sibling to Choki? mayhaps), Yo Hiori, Sae Itoshi (HEAR ME OUT.)

[catmiemy]

Another Chance to Live Part 1 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana and you are both struggling with unwanted transfers, but maybe you can at least find happiness off the pitch.

A/N: This is the first part of a story I've been working on for a while. I guess my way of processing my emotions about Ana's transfer. I've been in the denial stage for a long time 😅

The next two chapters are already written (just need to edit them) and so far it's a total of about 13k words. I'm now at a crossroad which will decide how long the story becomes. So I thought I'd publish the first part and see how much interest there is in a story like this to help me decide.

It felt like a cruel joke of the universe that now, now when you had been forced to leave, the woman you’ve had a crush on for years, joined your team, or well your former team. Words that made your heart crack a little more every time you thought them. Never in a billion years had you expected your team to become your former team.

Ever since you had first laid eyes on Ana you had been dazzled by her, not necessarily only by her looks, although you definitely enjoyed them, but also by her personality and her aura. She always radiated so much kindness and positive energy. It was impossible not to be drawn to her.

Sadly your paths didn’t cross all too often and when they did, Ana was always somewhere in the heart of whatever group you were part of, while you were lingering on the edges, looking in. So the Swiss woman was probably only vaguely aware of your existence, while you soaked up every detail you could find about Ana. The more you learnt, the more you liked her.

 And yes, sometimes when you lay in bed at night you made up little scenarios how the two of you would meet. One of your favorite ones was Ana coming to Atleti, not really knowing her way around Madrid yet, so you take her under your wing and show her everything. And of course she starts falling for you as you spend so much time together. It was your imagination after all, so you could day dream all you wanted.

Now part of this little fantasy was actually coming true, Ana really was joining Atlético, and it frustrated you to no end that now that she came, you were gone.  Although perhaps it wasn’t the universe being cruel towards you, maybe it was protecting you because even if you played for the same team there was no way the Swiss woman would ever go for someone like you.

Still, you spent a good amount of time fuming about it in your apartment. Possibly also because it was easier to focus on that rather than on the fact that your childhood club had just dropped you like you meant nothing.  Every time you remembered the conversation with the club’s managers you felt like throwing up, hiding under the covers for the rest of your life, and ripping off your ears so you didn’t have to listen to one more word from them. So yeah, it was comforting in a weird way to think about your missed chance with Ana, especially since it never had been much of a chance anyway.

It was harder to hold on to that strange comfort when training actually started and you had to go to Real Madrid’s training center every day. Most days were spent attempting to do your best and keep your negative emotions in check, while thinking nonstop about how much you hated this, how much you wanted to return to Atelti, how much you wanted to leave Madrid altogether.

So all in all you weren’t having the best time, barely getting by was actually a more accurate way to describe it. Then a few weeks after the season started you got a call from Lola.

“Sooo I heard you’re doing a lot of moping these days,” she teased you.

However there was an underlying note of worry in her voice. You had done your best to pretend as if Atleti’s decision hadn’t hurt you, that these things happen in football, and you were completely fine with it, but Lola had seen right through it.

“I’m not moping, I’m just quiet and focused like usual,” you quickly defended yourself. It was only partially true, you hated every single second you spent at the training center of Real Madrid.

“That’s not what I’ve heard, but how about you convince me over a cup of coffee. Maybe tomorrow afternoon?”

You didn’t even question how Lola knew that you had the day off tomorrow, apparently she had some spies at Real. As much as you didn’t want to continue talking about the misery that was your new club, you did want to see your friend, so you agreed.

“I might ask some other people if they want to tag along. Everyone misses you,” Lola continued, making you happy and sad at the same time. It was nice to be missed, but you wished you weren’t in a position where you could be missed.

Before you could hang up, Lola told you to bring “your moping buddy Misa”, then she ended the call with a cackle, not giving you any chance to retaliate. In all honesty there was some truth to it, both you and Misa were unhappy at Real, so it wasn’t surprising that she was the only person you had really bonded with so far.

Going by Lola’s words you expected a big group the next day when you entered the café you had agreed upon. What you found however were merely three people, Lola, Misa and no one other than Ana.

Suddenly your stomach was filled with butterflies flapping their wings wildly, making you somewhat nauseous as a result. You hadn’t expected this and you weren’t prepared for it at all. If it wouldn’t have been incredibly rude you would have walked right back out of the café.

Instead you walked over to the small group, doing your best impression of a friendly smile. You could have sworn you saw a knowing glint in both Misa’s and Lola’s eyes. There was no way they knew about your crush though, right?

Lola jumped up when she saw you, hugging you tightly. “It’s good to see you, chica, I’ve missed you,” she told you.

You had to blink a couple of times to chase away the tears burning in your eyes. There was no denying that you had missed her too, all of your former teammates really. You longed to be back at Atlético, and not only because Ana was there.

Right, Ana.

You extracted yourself from your friend and smiled at the blonde. Should you hug her as well? Or greet her with kisses on the cheeks? That’s exactly why you should have been informed that Ana would be there, so that you could think this over beforehand. Or, well, over think it.

Unlike you Ana knew exactly what to do; she got up, greeted you kindly and gave you a quick hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N. We’ve never had much of a chance to talk, so I’m glad we get one now.”

For a few seconds too long you started at her. You were torn between awe, and a little bit of envy, at how easily the Swiss woman had navigated this greeting, and shock. She remembered you? She was happy to see you? Once your heart slowed down from a wild canter to a moderate gallop and your brain was working more clearly again, you realized that this was probably just something Ana had said to make the situation less awkward, not something she truly meant.

“So, do you want to sit down?” Lola suggested with a smirk on her face. Thankfully she left it at that though and you quickly sank down into a chair. You felt too embarrassed to look at Ana, so you completely missed the reassuring smile she sent your way.

After that things went much more smoothly, mostly because Lola and Ana carried the conversation, allowing you and Misa to remain in your preferred role, attentive listener. Your former teammate as well as your crush tried valiantly to draw you out of your shell, but out of fear of saying something stupid, you kept your answers as short as possible without being weird or unfriendly. If only you could think of something witty to say!

On the bright side your relative quietness gave you a good opportunity to study Ana. She was stunning as always, but you could easily spot the signs of the toll this move to the Atlético had taken on her; her smile wasn’t quite as wide as usual and didn’t reach her eyes, her voice was a little duller, there were badly covered up dark bags underneath her eyes and she was a bit more subdued than normal  in general. Man, you really had spent way too long looking at any video of her you could find to notice things like that!

Then all of the sudden Misa let out a gasp. “I completely forgot I promised my neighbor I’d let in her daughter today. I need to leave right now to make it.”

You frowned at your teammate; it wasn’t like her to forget something as important as that. Was something more than her unhappiness with being stuck at Real bothering her? You made a mental note to ask Misa about it the next day, remind her that you were always there if she needed someone.

Misa’s departure didn’t really change anything in the dynamic, she hadn’t contributed much just like you. But then Lola got a phone call from her girlfriend who apparently needed your former teammate urgently. She looked at the two of you apologetically, however you could swear that there was some glee shimmering behind her regretful front.

“You girls should stay here and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Really I’m so sorry about this, don’t let it ruin your day,” Lola babbled, pressing a kiss to both your and Ana’s cheek before dashing out of the café.

You looked after her with confusion. The confusion however was short-lived, quickly drowned out by panic once you realized that you were now left alone with Ana. No more hiding behind other people, no more safety net. You weren’t ready. However leaving also wasn’t an option, there was no way you could do so without offending Ana, so you had to pull yourself together.

“I’m sorry about that,” Ana apologized, bringing your confusion back. As far as you were aware the Swiss woman had absolutely nothing to apologize for.

“They probably planned this because they think I need to be more social again. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jenni put them up to it, she’s been pretty worried,” the Swiss woman specified, leaving you reeling because you didn’t know how to deal with that much honesty.

“Oh,” you replied, praying that some more words would enter your brain. “Maybe they also did it for me. They think I’m pretty antisocial in general,” you finished, kicking yourself for making yourself look even more pathetic than you already did.

To your surprise Ana didn’t seem put off; on the contrary she chuckled and said, “Well we can be antisocial together then.”

The Swiss woman using the word ‘together’ in reference to the both of you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you could definitely get used to that.

In an attempt to take control of the situation and not end up blurting out something stupid if Ana asked you a question, you inquired how she was liking Madrid so far. It seemed like a normal thing to ask someone that had just moved to a new place.

However the Swiss woman didn’t answer right away, which was atypical for her who always seemed to have a reply ready. That combined with the guarded look in her eyes made you realize that this wasn’t a safe and easy topic for her. In your rush to make sure nothing that would be complicated for you came up, you had totally forgotten that Ana’s own move to Madrid had been anything but a happy occurence. Way to be selfish!

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything, that was such a stupid thing to say,” you apologized frantically

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine,” Ana quickly reassured you. “I just don’t really know what to say. Obviously I didn’t want to come here, I miss Barcelona. Both the city and the team. So I’m not having the best time to be completely honest. Then again I also haven’t given Madrid much of a chance yet. So…”

The Swiss woman’s openness left you stunned once again. This could never be you, sharing your thoughts and feelings so freely. At the same time you noticed with a surge of excitement and dread that Ana’s explanation gave you a good opening, not unlike your daydreams in fact.

Your fear of being annoying and overstepping was battling hard against your longing to get to spend more time with the blonde in the future. In the end you decided to go for it, maybe Ana would appreciate it and if she didn’t want to hang out again, she could just say so. Of course there was still the fear of rejection holding you back, but you shoved that to the back of your mind. If you didn’t ask the answer would always be no, right?

“If you want to I could show you around Madrid sometime. I’ve lived here all my life so I know the place like the back of my hand and know some nice places. Totally fine if you don’t of course, I’m sure there are many other people that could show you around.”

You spoke in record speed, making it hard for Ana to follow, which was why it took her a moment to answer. These few seconds were some of the most horrible ones in your life. If she said no now all your hopes would be shattered once and for all. Everyone always said it was important to know so you could move on, but honestly if the Swiss woman didn’t want to spend any time with you, you didn’t want to know.

“That sounds great, I’d love to,” Ana replied once she had enough time to process your jumble of words.

“Really?” You double checked, the words out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“Yeah, definitely,” the Swiss woman confirmed with a gentle smile. A smile that you returned happily. You hadn’t felt this excited in a while, it was a nice change from the bleakness that had become your constant companion.

The rest of your time together was spent chatting easily. You weren’t a great conversationalist, however with Ana it came much more natural. The blonde definitely did the heavy lifting, but you were happy with your own contributions. You even made her laugh a few times!

Later that day when you were back in your apartment you were much more critical, taking apart every single thing that you had said and coming to the conclusion that you must be the stupidest person on the planet. Thankfully you were going to get another chance in a few days and this time you would be better prepared. You would say interesting things and you would make sure Ana had a great time. The blonde deserved some joy and happiness and you would do your best to give her that.

Before your next meeting with Ana you actually made a plan; you would make a list of her interests and think of possible questions, some jokes and interesting facts you could mention. You spent one evening on it, working furiously and then you realized what you were doing, feeling very foolish all of the sudden. You scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it into the trash with some force.

This was pointless and unnecessary and totally embarrassing! Maybe you weren’t the best at coming up with things to say on the spot, but rehearsing everything like this was a role in a play was stupid. The urge to do absolutely everything to get Ana to like you was huge, however is she only liked this carefully crafted version of you that wasn’t any better than her not liking you at all.

Also, you shouldn’t even attempt to get the Swiss woman to like you. Just like you should keep your own crush in check. Ana’s life was complicated enough at the moment, you didn’t need to add your infatuation into the mix.

Unfortunately your noble plan to ignore your crush failed miserably. Whenever you spent time with Ana you fell a little more for her. It was simply impossible not to when she was the kindest, funniest, most interesting and on top of that most beautiful person in the world.

Like when you were out and about on one of your strolls to the city and a young couple approached you, asking if you could take a picture of them. As was typical for you, you hesitated for a moment; not necessarily because you didn’t want to, but because your mind was already working in overdrive, supplying you with every possible negative outcome.

Ana on the other hand smiled at them. “Of course! Where do you want to take it?”

And then she proceeded to take several pictures of the two, showing them to the couple, and when they weren’t completely satisfied yet, she even offered her own suggestions on how they might turn out even better.

All the way you were just watching them, well mostly Ana, with a goofy smile. You loved how much she cared, how much effort she put into random people she didn’t even know. No wait, you didn’t love that, you liked that, admired it.

Or when Ana convinced you to go into a tiny café. A place you would have never frequented on your own because the intimacy of it freaked you out. Not the blonde though. Within seconds she began chatting with the owner, a middle-aged woman who was thrilled someone showed so much interest in her small establishment.

The cake you got was very tasty as was the coffee and the homemade ice tea. You were quick to admit that Ana had made a good decision by forcing you to go there.

However what really pulled at your heartstring was that the Swiss woman went up to the owner afterwards and asked if it was okay to post about this place on Instagram. The poor woman almost started crying out of happiness and thanked Ana profusely, while the blonde kept insisting that this was nothing and really it should be her thanking the owner.

So it was safe to say that you fell deeper and harder every time you saw Ana. But it was okay, you had a foolproof way to make sure that the blonde didn’t figure it out and therefore her life didn’t get disrupted because of you. Whenever you echoed a statement Ana had made about how much she liked hanging out with you or that she thought you were a great person, you always added ‘friend’ into the mix; “I enjoy hanging out with you too, you’re such a great friend.” and “Aw thank you. You’re one of the best people and friends I know too!”

Sometimes when you were feeling particularly hopeful you wondered if the lack of specification on Ana’s part meant that she liked you as more than a friend. You always discarded the idea quickly though. It was much more likely that the thought of being more than friends was so ludicrous to the blonde, something that had probbly never even grazed her mind, that she didn’t feel the need to explicitly state it.

Despite having to resign yourself to the fact that Ana didn’t like you like that, it still made you happy that she was usually in a good mood when you were hanging out. Something you were secretly very proud of. Still every once in a while her sadness shined through, for example when she heard someone speak Catalan or when she saw something that reminded her of Barcelona.

One time a group of fans came up to her. They were friendly and excited and the Swiss woman matched their energy effortlessly. But then one of them mentioned how sad they were that Ana wasn’t playing for Barça anymore. You were forced to watch the blonde deflate slightly after that thoughtless statement. She was good at pretending though, so the fans were none the wiser.

When they were gone you gathered all of your courage. Up until now you had stayed in the shallows of easy conversation so this was a first and once again you worried about overstepping. But when you saw Ana’s sad eyes and the forcefully pulled up corners of her mouth, you couldn’t stay silent.

“Do you want to talk about it? I mean your transfer from Barça? I know we haven’t really talked about that or othe serious things yet, but I’m always happy to listen. I’m actually pretty good at that.”

The Swiss woman sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“That’s very sweet but honestly I’ve been talking so much about it lately. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing anyone wants to talk about anymore. So if it’s okay with you could we just continue like before? The distraction has been helping a lot.”

You had been helping! Happiness flowed through you and your smile was maybe a bit bigger than was warranted for a situation like this. However unless Ana was studying you as intently as you always studied her, you doubted that the blonde would notice.

“Yeah, of course. I’m happy to help in anyway.”

Ana and you kept seeing each other regularly and it was the undisputed highlight of your current life. Honestly it was a little worrying how few other things brought you any joy, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on that.

So when you were put into a situation where you had to cancel on Ana you were devastated. It wasn’t an appropriate reaction to something so small, but you had a ten minute crying session until you could even begin to function properly again. Calling the Swiss woman was out of the question though, you were still chocked up and sniffling.

Instead you texted her, apologizing multiple times and explaining that you were roped into doing all sorts of things last minute for your father’s birthday tomorrow. You could have slapped yourself for not seeing this coming. Sure, your parents had assured you time and time again that everything was taken care of, but you should have known better. Then you could have done it before today and weren’t forced to cancel on Ana.

Only minutes after you had sent the text your phone started ringing with a call from the Swiss woman. With wide, panicked eyes you stared at the screen. In the end your desire to at least hear Ana’s voice if you couldn’t see her won out. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice anything.

 „Hey I just saw your text and wanted to ask if I can help out with anything.”

You smiled at your phone, your heart warmed by Ana’s kindness. There was no doubt in your mind that she would actually follow through on your offer. Not that you would ever take it.

“Aw thank you so much, Ana! But it’s okay really. Most things I have to do at my parents place anyway. You know help them clean and decorate. So I’ll be out most of the day, and then in the evening I’ll have to bake the cake. Who knows how that’s going to go.”

You chuckled, even if you were feeling slightly panicked at the idea of baking. Normally your mother was in charge of that, but she had broken her arm a few weeks ago, so that was out of the question. Moments like this made you wish that you had some siblings or some cousins for that matter, just anyone to help you out.

“Not to brag, but I’m actually a great baker. So if you want some help, I’m happy to come over in the evening and help,” the blonde offered.

It would be nice to have some help, and you always wanted to see Ana. Plus she had brought up the idea of her own accord, so surely it was okay, right?

“That would be great actually. Thank you so much,” you replied, not giving your mind any more opportunity to drive yourself crazy.

Ana and you quickly planned everything out before you hung up and left to do everything else. With the prospect of seeing the Swiss woman later today you were a lot more cheerful than before.

“What’s got you so happy?” Your mother asked you while she supervised the decorating process.

It was incredibly frustrating since she kept criticizing everything you did. Every few minutes you had to step away for a moment, take some deep breaths and visualize how your evening with Ana would be, full of laughter and fun conversation.

“Not this, that’s for sure,” you muttered, low enough so that your mothers whose hearing wasn’t the best anymore, couldn’t here you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said louder, “I’m just in a good mood, I guess.”

There was no point in bringing up Ana. Nothing would ever happen between the two of you and even after knowing about it for almost ten years your parents still struggled with your sexuality. To avoid unnecessary conflict and awkwardness you never spoke about women you liked unless it was something serious. So never.

“You should focus on decorating and not smile so much. Maybe then we would get somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, but kept your mouth shut. No point in pointing out that most parents would be happy if their child was happy. And it wasn’t like your mother wasn’t happy about it, she just wasn’t good at being pleasant around you. Somehow she always felt the need to criticize you.

Hours later you got into your car, quickly drove away and as soon as you were a decent distance from your parents’ house you let out a loud scream, releasing all of the built up frustration. Then you set your focus on the near future, on the fact that you would be meeting Ana in half an hour at your apartment. Baking wasn’t really your thing, but baking with the Swiss sounded like a lot of fun. Anything was fun with her really; just being around her made you so happy.

When you got to your apartment Ana was already waiting for you, leaning against her car. A big smile appeared on the blonde’s face when she saw you and she waved at you happily. It warmed your insides, swept away any remnant of frustration from the long day with your parents, seeing how excited Ana was to see you.

You got set up quickly, putting out all the ingredients and opening up the recipe you had settled on. Then you turned to the Swiss woman expectantly.

“So any baking pro tips from you before we start?” You asked teasingly.

Ana looked at you sheepishly.

“To be completely honest I don’t really know that much about baking. I usually only bake once a year to make some Christmas cookie,” the blonde admitted, scratching her nose.

You frowned at her in confusion. This didn’t really make any sense to you, but you didn’t want to make Ana feel bad about it.

“So why did you say you did?” You asked carefully. „I mean only if you want to tell me, it’s totally fine if you don’t. I’m sure you had your reasons.”

The Swiss woman blushed a little as she explained herself, “I really just wanted to spend some time with you today.”

Your heart started racing at this confession, your hopes going through the roof.  It didn’t take long for the logical part of your brain to bring you back to earth though. Surely this didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean. Most likely Ana was just struggling today and didn’t want to be alone.

“Oh I’m sorry you’re having a hard time today. You know you can always tell me that and if it’s possible at all I’ll always make time for you. You don’t have to make up reasons to hang out.”

Ana stared at you with a pained expression. It hurt your heart to see her in pain and it made you wonder if something had happened today, perhaps something that reminded her of Barcelona?

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked when the blonde stayed quiet, but then you thought better of it. “Wait no I’m sorry, you already said that you’re tired of talking about it before and that you prefer a distraction. So let’s bake!”

You put some extra excitement into your voice and made sure to keep up a stream of easy chatter as you got to work. For a while Ana remained a bit distant and quiet, but before too long her smile returned and she began talking and joking.

When the blonde laughed loudly at a joke you had made you felt very proud of yourself for giving Ana what she needed, a distraction. If you continued to be helpful she would keep wanting to hang out with you and that was also very much in your interest. Even if the knowledge that it meant something else to you hurt somewhat every time you thought of it.

However it was all worth it to get to spend time with Ana. Everything was worth that.

[i2ycat]

clingy

pairing bf!jungwon x fem!reader synopsis jungwon as your boyfriend who is overly clingy and just can’t ever get enough of you genre established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff warnings none main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

clingy bf!jungwon is 100% the type to keep you in bed until you realise that you’re late for class or work, but even then, he’s sneaky enough to keep you staying put

“can you stay here forever?” he asks groggily, the morning evident in his voice as he snuggles into the crevice of your neck

the warmth he radiates in the dead of winter makes you want to not get out of bed at all, and especially not in the morning cold, so you mumble quietly, “just 10 minutes.”

and like that, 2 hours magically pass by…

even when you’re busy with class or work, best bet that jungwon is blowing up your phone about how he misses you or how badly he wants to be in your arms right now

before he dated you, he didn’t really like physical affection or even hugging for that matter, but after meeting you, you’ve got him hooked… you think you’re clingy? wait until you meet yang jungwon

you’ve pervaded every part of his life and thoughts that anything he sees, he immediately gets reminded of you… like he’s just so down bad for you

he follows you around the house or around the supermarket when you’re shopping for groceries like a lost puppy

when you’re apart for more than an hour or two, he starts getting extreme y/n withdrawal… like he PHYSICALLY cannot live without you by his side (someone pls put him in a rerun of ‘my strange addiction’)

more under cut !

he would always find his way into your arms no matter the place, the situation or the people around, my guy does not give a fuck!

by extension, jungwon gets jealous easily and is super possessive of you

he honestly amps the physical affection up in public just to show everyone that you’re his, and he’s yours…

when he does get jealous, he gets all pouty and furrows his brows, staring at you with that look in his eyes that make you melt away because he’s just so darn adorable

his jealousy is actually so endearing that you sometimes don’t give him the attention he wants just to rile him up and see him get all sulky for you

there would be one instance when you would be chatting with a junior about your courses, and in jungwon’s eyes, they would be standing way too close for his comfort, so he immediately stares the both of you down until you eventually notice a pair of killer eyes

you look at him amused and immediately excuse yourself from your junior, walking up to him with crossed arms

“what is it now?”

“he was standing way too close to you.”

“he’s just my junior, wonie.”

“still! what if he likes you?”

“then i would tell him that i’m already dating the best boyfriend ever, duh.” you say as you envelop him into a hug, kissing him in the cheeks in the process

jungwon just loves to be in your presence, nothing could ever even come close to you in any and every sense… to him, you guys are end game

when jungwon is going through a particularly hard time, his number one therapy would be you

he would show up at your dorm, head hung low and hair unusually tousled into a mess. over the years you’ve been together, you immediately knew the drill — bring him into your arms and stay like that for hours, maybe even play a studio ghibli film in the background as you eat ice cream in the comfort of your bed

no matter how much jungwon hugs you, he just can’t ever get enough of it. people always ask him if he gets sick of the physical touch, and he just replies simply with, “never.”

other than his very obvious love language, jungwon also likes to spoil you with gifts, especially oversized teddy bears, because to him, it can act as his replacement when he’s not there…

but before he even gifts it to you, he would snuggle with it for a week or two straight so that by the time you receive it, it’ll smell and feel like he’s actually there in your bed with you

he’s so used to hearing you calling him by your nickname for him, that when you use his real name, it literally breaks his heart

“jungwon, can you hand-“

“jungwon? who?”

“what do you mean ‘who’? that’s literally your name?” you look at him confused

“no i’m not jungwon, i’m your baby? get it right. and what happened to ‘won’ or ‘wonie’?”

“baby, can you pease hand me the remote?”

“that’s better.” he LITERALLY starts smiling like this ‘😊’ and presses a kiss on your forehead

he loves you so much and will do anything and everything to show you that he loves you and cares for you so much

© i2ycat 2024

[winterrrnight]

there’d better be a mirrorball

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you couldn’t attend senior prom, so your boyfriend bought the prom to you.

WARNINGS: mentions of puking and food poisoning, sweetheart rafe, usage of nicknames, intentional use of lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: huge huge thank you to miss @zyafics who had to see my poorly edited photo of a terrace and helped me figure out that it’s called a ‘gazebo’, except that picture didn’t actually have a gazebo in it (I’m sorry I’m so bad at explaining shit 😭) but yeah zya you’re a real one ilysm 💙🌟

if you liked reading this please consider reblogging! feedback is always appreciated 🪩

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it was the saddest day of your life.

you went to sleep all excited, your dress laid out, your shoes right next to the dress, your jewelry picked out, a clear image of your make up look in your head; just for you to wake up and do the last thing you’d expect for that day: puke.

your puke was unceremoniously cleaned up by your mom, who when touched her hand to your forehead, claimed that you were burning up. when you tried to speak, your voice barely came out – it was hoarse and heavy. and it was even worse when you couldn’t stand on your own two feet for a few moments before starting to feel an intense body ache that had you flopping back onto your bed.

“I’m sorry darling, but I don’t think you should go to prom today–”

“no!” came out your rough voice, tears starting to blur your vision as you took a look at your perfectly arranged dress and accessories for the coming night. your mom couldn’t bear to see the sight but she had to exercise her never expiring mom card and made you miss the prom.

you were laying in your bed, your curtains drawn and the lights turned off to not let any harsh lighting pulsate your already throbbing headache even more than before. you had called your boyfriend rafe and had given him the unbearing news of you not being able to attend prom because of your horrible health – which was concluded as food poisoning by your mother – and he felt his heart shatter with the news.

rafe, who was never interested in prom before, was looking forward to that night because you were his date. you made his decision regarding proms flip to a total 180 and convinced him on how fun it would actually be, and now what? now, you can’t go, you: the light to the dark side of his moon.

“then that’s simple, I’m not going either,” came his voice through your microphone. you groaned for what felt like the millionth time, and shook your head.

“you are going rafe,” you said, your voice clearing up just a bit thanks to those sharp tasting lozenges your mother dumped into your mouth. “okay? you are going. the rest of our friends are going to be there, and it’s the senior prom! you are going, and that’s final.”

damn. even when you’re lying sick in your bed, you still have your control over him.

rafe reluctantly agreed to go to the prom, but before he went there, he stopped by at your place to check up on you. he brought you some fresh flowers and put them in a vase to sit in your room.

“when I come back, I’m coming straight to you, okay?” he murmured softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, not listening to your whines on how he shouldn’t kiss you because you were sick.

the hours passed, and you made a quick scroll through your social media – something which you knew you shouldn’t. there were already a gazillion pictures and short videos from the evening, everyone dressed up in fancy fabrics from head to toe, jewelry gleaming on their ears and necks, and familiar pop music played in the background. you sighed, feeling yourself getting more and more sad and left out as you practically threw your phone aside, and decided to just nap to get your mind off of it.

you were woken up by your name spoken by an all too familiar melodious voice, and a soft nudge to your shoulder.

“wake up baby…” you heard in your ear. you opened your eyes and were met with rafe’s bright blue ones. his blazer had come off and was hanging on his shoulder, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“yeah?” you muttered as you rubbed your eyes and sat up.

“come on, I want to take you somewhere,” he said in a hushed tone as he watched you awaken.

“take me where?” you asked and without any questions, you followed rafe’s lead, who helped you to your feet and helped you put on your shoes. he draped his blazer over your shoulders and took your hand, leading you out of your room.

“just come with me, you’ll love it,” he said softly, grinning from ear to ear as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you out. you lived only a few doors down from tannyhill, and rafe kept you well tucked under his arm as he kept up with your slower pace of walking than usual and led you to his place.

he led you inside the huge mansion, and when he saw how tired your body had gotten from the walking, he carefully picked you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs, all the way up to the terrace.

“now…” he hummed as he set you down, both of you standing right outside the closed door of the terrace. “i’m going to cover your eyes, okay?” he said softly, and when he saw you didn’t interject, he covered your eyes with his fingers. he opened the door and carefully led you out to the terrace.

“i’ll lift my hands in 3… 2… 1…”

at 1, his hands came off and you were greeted with a sight that made you gasp.

multiple strings of golden fairy lights hung all around the terrace, a record player spun in a corner, a table was covered with drinks, chocolates and other little treats, and to your right, right under the wooden gazebo, was a mirrorball.

a mirrorball hung right from the center of the gazebo, spinning slowly and slowly as it reflected silver light in different directions, producing a complex display. you gasped at the sight, the spherical object rotating and momentarily reflecting across you, the reflections mere spheres that appeared and disappeared on your body at different parts each time.

“rafe…” you muttered, and you felt his arms wrap around your waist from the back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“this is our prom baby,” you whispered in your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.

“when… when did you even do this?” you whispered, still in awe from the entire decoration.

“I came back from prom early, it was extremely boring without you,” he murmured. “couldn’t stand being there without my pretty girl,”

you turned around in rafe’s hold to face him. “this… this is so beautiful…” you whispered, looking in his twinkling eyes. you wanted to say more, you really did, but you were falling short of words because you were still trying to recover from the surprise.

“not as beautiful as you baby,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you broke into a smile. he can be so cheesy.

“now come on, I believe you owe me a dance,” he grinned as he walked up to the record player. he changed the vinyl spinning and you watched him curiously, but all curiosity washed away when you heard the gentle instrumentals of there’d better be a mirrorball fill the space around you.

he walked back to you with a cheeky grin and took your hand in his, leading you to the gazebo where you both stood right under the mirrorball. he took your hands in his and brought you closer to him, placing your arms around his neck and placing his around your waist, and starting to sway you gently to the music.

you rested your head in the crook of his neck and he kept you close in your arms, both of your eyes fluttered shut as you gently swayed to the music, taking in the moment.

“I love you,” you heard the faint sound of rafe’s voice in your ear. you felt your heart thump at his words, a soft smile forming on your face.

“I love you just as much,” you whispered back, burying your face in his neck. he smiled softly at your words, pressing a kiss to your temple as he continued to sway you both.

by the end of the night, you had completely forgotten you had to miss prom.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @sage-burrow @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

[thesightstoshowyou]

Sooo my Ghoul idea! So fem reader, the ghoul takes an odd job unlike his regular job with just killing people for money. A employer hires the ghoul and pays him BIG BIG “money” Caps to bring his daughter home safely across the dangerous wasteland. The reader is a vault dweller and so is the father who has outside connections so he knows who to contact and bring his daughter back. She snuck out to see what up top was really like, and to escape an assigned marriage. Reader is not so bright, basically a bimbo 😅, first time for reader, reader actually finds him attractive, cream pie, Dom Ghoul. Hopefully this is something you’d like to write! ❤️

Thank you for this request!! I hope I did it justice 😁🥰

~~

Over Your Head

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x F Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Loss of virginity, degradation, thigh riding, a little of the Ghoul’s self-loathing, painful sex (that becomes not painful), nipple play, dacryphilia, spitting, creampie, copious dirty talk

The Ghoul heaves a world-weary sigh. “Listen, darlin’,” he starts as he grips your ankle to shove your foot away from where it teases his inner thigh. “Your daddy’s payin’ a hefty sum o’ caps to bring ya’ back in one piece. I don’t think he’ll appreciate me deflowerin’ his lil’ princess.” The last word is said with so much contempt even you can’t miss it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you whine, bottom lip protruding in a pout.

“Means you’re gettin’ on my last goddamn nerve.” The inhaler hisses when he sucks down a hit. Outside, the wind howls and rattles the foundation of the crumbling office building in which you’d taken shelter. He assumes the dust storm that kicked up and trapped the two of you here, alone, is some kind of divine punishment for his misdeeds. “I know there’s some fuckin’ smooth-skinned brat down in your vault who’s dyin’ to fumble around with ya’. You’re better suited for him.”

The Ghoul watches as your disappointed frown morphs into one of determination. He can almost see the gears working in your head as you try to think up a way to get what you want. You aren’t used to being told “no,” that much is clear.

Never has he regretted taking a job more than he does at this moment.

“I don’t want someone from my vault,” you say as you move onto your hands and knees. Languidly, you crawl through the sand and he can’t help the way his gaze falls on the sway of your hips. He grits his teeth when you slide into his lap, the warmth between your thighs settling right against his clothed cock. “I want you.”

“Did ya’ hit your head on the vault door on your way out, sweetheart?” he questions as your palms come to rest on his shoulders. His own hands, rough from life on the surface and scarred from rads, smooth over your hips and slide down to cup your ass. Irritation shifts into bemused resignation. Admittedly, it’s been a long, long while since he’s been intimate with anyone, and the way you’re writhing in his lap chips away at the last vestiges of his resolve.

“No?” you reply, obviously confused. Pretty…and dumb. Though, he’s still not convinced this isn’t some kind of elaborate prank. Why you’d want him of all people—when you could have anyone you want—is beyond his comprehension.

But, here you are, apparently ready and quite willing. Who is he to snuff out your hopes and dreams, as misguided as they are?

Slowly, the Ghoul inhales through his teeth as one of his hands slides up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb brushes over your nape and he feels a shiver zip down your spine. “I don’t think ya’ know what you’re gettin’ yourself into, sugar.”

Already, your eyes are half lidded and hazy, your plush lips parted to allow for quick breaths. Desperate. Innocent. “Pretty please,” comes your tremulous whisper.

He’s going to make you regret every decision you’ve ever made.

The hand on your neck twists so he can gather up a handful of your hair. He brings your face inches from his own so his lips hover just out of your reach. A grin pulls at his mouth when he feels you test his grip, desperate to close the distance.

He leans in until he’s a hair’s breadth away, until you can feel his exhale ghosting across your panting mouth. “Ain’t no backin’ out a’ this once I tear into ya’.” Hastily, you nod and a breathy whine sneaks past your teeth. Your unbridled enthusiasm is going to be the death of him.

Or you.

The Ghoul’s lips crash into yours in a searing kiss. He swallows your sweet mewl and the sharp gasp that follows when he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. The feeling of your hips bucking in his lap and the taste of your blood on his tongue rips a rasping groan from his throat.

“Get up and strip,” he orders. He releases your hair and lands a stinging swat on your ass for emphasis. You yelp but scurry away, apparently determined to prove your obedience. The slide of your zipper fills the small space and the Ghoul’s eyes rake over your body as the vault uniform is peeled away, little by little.

The clink of his belt buckle follows and it’s nearly impossible to contain his snort of laughter when your eyes grow comically wide at the sight of him. He palms his cock and slowly hisses through his teeth when you squirm impatiently on the spot, now as naked as the day you were born. Even from here, he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs.

“Come take a seat, kiddo,” The Ghoul says as he spreads his legs and slaps a thigh. Eagerly, you straddle his quad. He wraps a hand around your throat as the other settles on your waist. Slight pressure urges the roll of your hips and soon you’re grinding your slick into his pants.

“What would your daddy say if he saw ya’ actin’ like such a desperate little slut, huh? For a ghoul, no less.” As he speaks, the hand on your waist slides up to roughly tweak a nipple. You squeal and attempt to twist away, but his grip on your throat prevents too much movement. The Ghoul clicks his tongue, “I thought I said no runnin’.”

“It hurts!” You whimper when he turns the same mean treatment on the other nipple.

“Then why are you soakin’ my pant leg, baby?” The moan you loose when his fingers slip down your belly to prod your clit heats the lust burning in his gut. He snatches one of your hands, wraps it around his length, and uses it to stroke himself. The slide of your soft palm along twisted flesh earns you a strained grunt and the briefest fluttering of eyelids.

He watches you from under the brim of his hat. Your eyes are locked on the way your hand works up and down his shaft, your bottom lip glistening where you’ve wet it with your tongue. You’re damn near drooling at just the sight of his cock. The Ghoul has had about all he can take.

“C’mere,” he growls as he grabs hold of your waist and hauls you flush against him. An anxious squeak leaves you when the head of his cock nudges your slick hole. “Deep breath, sweetheart.”

You only manage half an inhale before the Ghoul digs his nails into your hips to spear you on his girth. Your pained shriek echoes off the walls and you scramble to pull yourself up and off, but his grip keeps you seated and forces inch by punishing inch through spasming, untouched muscles. Too soon, you’re impaled up to the hilt, your eyes wide and brimming with tears, your jaw working open and closed like you can’t find the air to scream.

“Fuckin’ tight,” he mutters, nearly overwhelmed by the death grip your hot, slippery insides have on his length. A steadying inhale allows him to turn his attention to you. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Gettin’ split open by my cock not what you’d hoped it’d be?”

The Ghoul tugs you closer to drag his tongue through the fat drops now rolling down your cheeks. Pinching your face between thumb and forefinger, he forces your mouth open and spits your anguish onto your tongue. This seems to shock you enough to draw a choked, furious sound out of you.

“F-fuck-stop-it-it’s too-so full,” you stammer, your thighs shaking like the shingles on the roof above. The Ghoul chuckles, dark and low, as his teeth find the soft flesh of your throat.

“I told ya’ t’breathe, baby,” he reminds you between teasing nips and licks. Your skin is rich like the food they feed you down in that vault, your scent lacking the taint of fear that comes from living life in the Wasteland. Good enough to eat….

Laboriously, you gasp, each breath minutely relaxing your cunt, just enough for the Ghoul to give a few experimental thrusts. The sound you make is distressed, yes, but now there’s something else there to, something akin to that desperation you showed him earlier.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Learnin’ how t’relax and take it. We’ll make a good lil’ whore outta ya’ yet.” Slowly, he moves your hips back and forth as he speaks. Eventually, you get the message and clutch his shoulders to attempt a few tentative undulations of your own. The Ghoul growls, his nails digging crescents into your skin where he holds you.

Soon, no pain remains in your vocalizations. You whine and moan and keen so sweetly, your cries filling the shelter and mingling with the wet squelching of your cunt. You find your rhythm and bounce, unrestrained, in his lap as your juices soak into his pants.

Pressure builds in his groin. The Ghoul can tell by the way your hips stutter and your sweet hole clenches that you’re about to finish too. Hastily, he pulls you against him, plants his boots in the dirt, and hammers up into you until you’re screaming all over again.

You cum a half a second before he does. You freeze in climax, your back arching, so the Ghoul must dig his fingers into the flesh of your ass to work you up and down his girth. With a growl on his lips and teeth bared, his cock pulses to paint your guts in thick ropes of ecstasy.

Long seconds pass as you both hover together in that liminal space of bliss. “Ohh…oh god…” you sigh finally, slumping, boneless. He mirrors your sentiment with a pleased groan that rumbles in his chest.

A hand in your hair tips your head back so the Ghoul can assess your dazed expression. “Fucked what lil’ sense ya’ had right outta ya’, huh?”

“You don’t have to be mean about—

A yawn overtakes your affronted huff. You move to scoot off his lap. “God, I’m so tired now.”

The Ghoul hums disapprovingly and maintains his hold on your hips. “We ain’t done here, sugar. That dust storm is still howlin’ and you got two holes left for me t’abuse.”

Nervously, you laugh and shake your head. “But, I thought…I just wanted—

“A big, bad man t’pop your cherry so ya’ had somethin’ t’brag about back in your vault. Well, I intend on doin’ just that and there ain’t no sense in doin’ somethin’ halfway. Not my problem ya’ bit off more than ya’ could chew, sweetheart.” A chuckle bubbles up from his throat at your horrified expression.

“On your knees, sugar.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for killing my fake identity?

💀📚🎭 for finding

This sounds really weird but hear me out

When I was younger, around 7th grade, I was hanging out at a local site (I am not American) for writing books and making other writer friends. For some reason, I really hated going online as myself. Maybe it's because it was still the time when people actually emphasized online safety to kids or maybe just because I hated myself. v(￣ー￣)v

Anyway I made up an online persona named Jordan (14f) (yes I am referring to her as a real person even though she does not exist) and made up a whole story about her being an American immigrant and being a triplet (I really wished I had a twin at the time) and made a whole personality for her and random stories that "happened" to her throughout her life

So I was Jordan for a while, and it was all fun and well and I wrote some books under her name and had my friends on the site (even met one irl on accident and asked if they know her lol) but it was starting to get boring so I wrote a heart wrenching story about how Jordan died by getting hit by a car when she ran to pet a dog (yes I know) and made kind of an open memorial book dedicated to her where people could submit their condolences or thoughts about her or something.

The thing is people actually did write things like how they really liked her and are sad that she's gone and will miss her and honestly I feel really bad still (I'm 20 for reference) for causing people to actually think they lost a friend but maybe I'm just overthinking and it's just a silly story from when I was 12

So yeah AITA?

[ladykailitha]

Everything I Ever Wanted Part 4/4

The last part. The end of this glorious story. I had such a blast writing it. All the world building, the characters, their stories.

I'm not sure if I'm 100% percent done with this world, but for now this is goodbye.

Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged even with it suddenly being scuttled by staff because it had the word escort in one of the tags.

Here we have the Harringtons trying every trick in the book to get more money from Steve, and the birth of Steve's and Eddie's baby.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve stared at the single pink line in bitter disappointment. He knew he should feel grateful that he didn’t get pregnant on the first try so that they had more time to prepare.

But the acrid feeling burned his insides like a sick fire.

Eddie came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his middle. He kissed their bond bite and nuzzled the scent gland to send waves of comfort through their bond.

“It is four in five, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured gently. “There’s always next time.”

Steve turned in his arms and buried his face into Eddie’s scent gland to deepen the scent between them.

“What if this means we were wrong?” he whimpered. “What if I’m not a golden omega after all?”

Eddie held him tight. “Then we’ll adopt or try surrogacy. We’ll figure it, Stevie. I promise.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “Okay...”

Eddie kissed the top of his head fiercely and held on for dear life. He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that if he was kind, that if he was just, he would let Steve bear Eddie’s pups.

****

Eddie’s rut came before Steve’s heat, but that wasn’t uncommon. Especially with Steve’s heats more frequent than a regular omega but not as often as a golden omega.

Steve was happy to service his alpha’s ruts. It was the one part of his job he actually missed. Tommy had tried to say that he just liked the rough sex, but that wasn’t it. He loved the providing for an alpha when they were at their most vulnerable. To feed them, clean up after them, to be the thing they held onto when their whole world was shifting out from under them.

Ruts originally were for the alpha to impregnate as many omegas as possible without the bond. Back when the world’s population was too low. But for whatever reason even after the population grew, the alphas still developed a mindless need for sex a few times a year.

Steve personally thought that it was something bred for like fucking animals because men tended to think with the wrong head.

What this all boiled down to was that when Steve’s first heat since they bonded, Eddie was able to be lucid throughout the whole experience and give Steve the much deserved attention he needed.

Afterwards, Steve was forced to admit that having Eddie take control of his heat was even better than when they were both under the haze of the hormones.

Never before had a heat been so smooth, so effortless. Gone was the feeling of not being full enough, of not being good enough.

But Eddie soothed all that away.

So Steve really shouldn’t have been surprised when six weeks later he was staring a double pink line.

“Why the fuck are the lines pink?” Steve huffed. “Isn’t that sexist?”

Eddie looked at his bondmate, husband, and love of his life with fond exasperation. “Honey...is that really your take away right now?”

Steve looked up at him in adorable befuddlement before he realized what the double line meant.

“I’m pregnant?!” he squealed. He threw the applicator in the sink and hugged Eddie tightly.

“You sure are!” Eddie said, swinging them both around in their rather large sized bathroom, but still managing to knock things over in their excitement and overwhelming joy.

“My baby is having our baby!” he shrieked in delight.

Steve threw back his head and laughed.

“Who should we call first?” he asked once he was put back down.

“Wayne!” Steve said at the same time Eddie cried, “Robin!”

They laughed and then their next exclamation reversed, with Steve saying Robin and Eddie saying Wayne.

“Both?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Both is good,” Eddie agreed.

****

They set up a live group chat. Robin answering first and then Wayne popping in.

After they said their hellos Steve held up the pregnancy test slowly.

Robin gasped and squealed in delight. “I told you! I’m so happy for you!”

Wayne’s reaction was more mild, but no less sincere.

“I’m happy for you both,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion as a tear slid down his cheek.

“You’re going to be a grandpa,” Eddie murmured.

Wayne pressed a hand to his mouth as more tears fell. He let out a watery chuckle.

“I’m going to be a grandpa,” he whispered. He laughed out loud. “I’m going to be a grandpa!”

“You’ll come live with us until the baby is born, right?” Steve asked nervously.

Wayne looked between Eddie and Steve’s earnest faces and any objection he had flew out the window.

“Hell yeah, I am,” he said gruffly. “It’s about time I retired anyway.”

Everyone in the chat cheered.

****

After all their friends and had been told, Steve informed Starcourt of their pregnancy.

He was informed that Benny and Robin would coordinate the agency’s announcement to coincide with Steve and Eddie’s press release of the news.

They would wait until the twenty week mark when the chance of a miscarriage became an impossibility.

Steve would wear loose fitting clothes and more dresses to hide the bump until an announce would be ready to be made.

Robin and Benny would also manage the rumor mill and their privacy.

They got a very good doctor who specialized in golden omega care, now that Steve couldn’t be anything else.

Those first few weeks were bliss. They were happy and thrilled that Steve was pregnant.

They started preparing their nursery. Winnie the Pooh themed. The characters painted on the walls. The books on the shelves. Stuff animals galore.

Will had done painting of the walls and Steve nudged the omega in the direction of illustrating for children’s books. In particular his alpha’s children’s books about Poppy the Purple Dragon. It was a series of books about teaching gender and sexuality to late tween-early teens.

Will blushed. Mike had taken a page out of Eddie’s playbook and started really focusing on writing middle school aged books about alpha health and then just slowly branched out to all genders from gentle pushes from his in-laws, El, and even his older sister.

They weren’t originally going to have pictures, but Steve thought it was a good idea since it was something Will was passionate about too.

Dustin hadn’t bonded yet. Everyone had thought that he would have bonded Suzie when he brought her home from college. But they were both alphas and at first that wasn’t a problem, but soon it became clear that Dustin would benefit from having an omega partner.

So they broke up.

It was no surprise to anyone that Erica presented as an alpha. She also was unbonded, but that was more a personal preference then because she hadn’t found the right person.

Jim was grateful that El was just a beta. She had health problems as a child and both Jim and Joyce were concerned that adding a second gender would have further harmed her.

She was beautiful and charming young woman and Steve and Eddie, who claimed they didn’t have a favorite, was without a doubt their number one of the kids.

She was a fashion designer in New York and incredibly happy.

Then the news dropped that Steve was pregnant and suddenly everyone was rushing out to LA to make sure he was safe. El was the only one who chose to stay, after all she could design clothes from anywhere and LA was as a big a fashion hub as New York was.

First there was the fallout from the fact that Steve was a golden omega.

Starcourt Services put out the following statement:

“Starcourt Services, along with it’s sister companies across the globe have long since known the possibility of untested omegas being golden omegas when they are brought to us, but due to the privacy of our omegas, Steve Munson ne Harrington is merely the first golden omega willing to come out as such since retiring.

When the former escort came to us with the news of his pregnancy and his golden status, we were overjoyed for him. But we knew that this would have to be carefully curated to the press.

This is not like the Church coming out and saying that they knew that one third of their sequestered infertile omegas were there without their consent.

This is the opposite of that. This is Starcourt Services, we pride ourselves on our client and escort confidentiality. If an escort had wanted the public to know that they learned later in life that they were an golden omega, you would have been informed.

However, with the nature of Steve Harrington’s marriage and bonding with known rockstar, Eddie Munson, his pregnancy, no matter how much he could have tried to hide, would be leaked eventually. So between his people and ours, we were able to formulate what we hope will be an appropriate response.

Again, we congratulate Eddie and Steve Munson for their upcoming bundle of joy and wish them all the happiness in the world.

We will be holding a press conference to answer an further questions on...”

And they listed a date and time.

Which Steve and Eddie had wisely sat it out, because apparently Steve’s parents had shown up and asked about the difference in bid price verse golden omega dowries.

And when they were told that golden omega dowries had been over-inflated by the media and that some times the “price” wasn’t a price at all if the omega’s soulmate wasn’t from the elite.

Hooboy.

To say that went over like a lead balloon would be an understatement. It blew up the media and several outlets were forced to admit that they had known about golden omegas choosing from all walks of life, that they would only report on the rich ones.

Often times a benefactor would step in and help pay the dowry but that wasn’t always the case.

Jim Hopper took advantage of the situation by running for president of the United States under the platform of creating dowries and testing centers for parents who can’t afford to pay for the golden omega test. And to give parents and infertile omegas the right to chose not to take the test.

Steve was sure he was going to win. Because even conservatives would chomp at the bit for the chance that their children might be golden omegas.

When it looked like the Harringtons weren’t going to get more money from Starcourt they tried to take Eddie and Steve to court over grandparents’ rights. Claiming that as an escort Steve is incapable of being a loving parent due to the nature of having so many sexual partners.

After their lawyers showed all their trips out of town while Steve was in school with no evidence of having alternative supervision and how they would come just often enough that it couldn’t be considered child abandonment (thereby proving they knew what they were doing), the judge laughed them out her court room.

So they did the last thing they could they tried to blackmail Steve into giving them more money.

What did they try and blackmail him with you ask?

That he hadn’t been a virgin when he had been auctioned off.

Steve sat there staring up at them, five months pregnant, in his and Eddie’s living room on their outrageously plush sofa and laughed.

“You have no proof of that,” he said shaking his head. “I only had one girlfriend and there is no way Nancy Wheeler is going to say shit about me, not with all the things I know about her.”

Mrs. Harrington rolled her eyes. “Just because she was your only girlfriend doesn’t mean you weren’t a slut before her or after her.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at her. “Just because Steve wanted to be an escort when he was younger doesn’t mean he was sleeping around as a teen. What is wrong with you people?”

“We have photos!” Mr Harrington bellowed.

Then Steve really did laugh. Threw back his head, clutching his stomach as he just burst out in peels of laughter.

“If you’ve got what I think you’ve got,” he said once he was calm enough to speak. “You ain’t got shit. Because the cherry popping refers to my hymen being broken. Which, considering I played in a couple of different sports, and that can cause hymen breaking, is such bullshit. And even if it hadn’t been, I still would have been considered a vaginal virgin because those pictures you have is of me fucking Nancy before either of us presented.”

Eddie’s grin was feral. “So what you’re saying, honey,” he said, his voice positively dripping with disdain, “is that they just admitted to having child pornography of their own child.”

Both the elder Harringtons blanched.

“Now get out of my sight,” Steve said waving them off, “otherwise that lovely little protection order I have waiting for you will spring into effect.”

They sputtered and protested but they were forced to leave the premises with all their hopes and dreams dashed.

“Morons,” Eddie huffed. “Like I don’t have a legal team, a PR team, and a whole slew of people willing to take them down for fun. And that’s not including your people, babe.”

Steve shook his head. “I honestly don’t know where they thought they would get away with any of their attempts. I was starting think I was starring in a roadrunner cartoon for fuck’s sake.”

Eddie chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “But it’s over and done with now. I want you focusing on that pup of ours you’ve got growing.”

“Wayne and El are going to be pissed they missed out on the fun,” Steve murmured, curling up into his alpha’s side.

“They are,” he hummed in agreement, “but I’m grateful they weren’t here to see how vile they were to you.”

Steve chirped happily as Eddie rubbed his bond mark. He was safe, his pup was safe, and that was all that mattered.

****

Even with the epidural, Steve swore off more pups while he was giving birth. It was awful, it was horrible. Zero out of ten, would NOT recommend to anyone.

Then the beautiful, curly haired little boy was placed into his arms and he was in love. He wanted a half dozen more.

“Eddie...” he said looking up at his alpha with awe and adoration. “He’s perfect.”

Eddie smiled back down at his little family. “Look at what you made, Stevie...look at this sweet little baby. He’s all ours.”

The nurse handed Steve a bottle of formula. “Are you sure you don’t want to try breast feeding?”

Steve shook his head. “I want to be able to have other people feed him, being able to sleep more regularly, and not leak all the time.”

The nurse did not look impressed, as they could have hired a wet nurse, but wisely left them alone. Steve immediately gave it to his baby was happy to see that he quickly learned what it was for and began to eat.

“You ready for his grandfather and godmother to see him?” Eddie asked gently, smoothing Steve’s hair.

Steve smiled up at him and nodded.

Eddie went out to the hall and brought in the two guests who were waiting patiently.

Wayne checked on Steve and then made sure Eddie was faring okay, while Robin rushed to Steve’s side and fussed over the new mama.

“He looks like Dustin,” she cooed. “All curly hair and no teeth.”

Steve smiled up at her. “That’s why we decided on the name Dustin Wayne Munson.”

Wayne looked down at his grandson in awe. “Oh, Stevie, you didn’t have to go and do that.”

Eddie punched Wayne’s arm good-naturedly. “Like we would call him anything else, old man.”

He grabbed a burp cloth and draped over Steve’s shoulder, who proceeded burp their baby.

“You can’t have two Dustins or two Waynes though,” Robin said. “What are you going to call him to avoid confusion?”

“Winnie,” Eddie explained. “Once he gets into school, he might choose to go by either his first or middle name, but to us, he’s Winnie.”

“Welcome to the world, little Winnie,” she murmured gently, reaching out to capture a curl. “May it be kind to you.”

“I think it’s time to let Mom and Winnie sleep,” Eddie said. “We can tell his other namesake when both are better rested.”

Robin and Wayne nodded, filing out.

Dustin would be over the moon when he found out later, tears of joy streaming down his face as Winnie was placed into his arms, surrounded by all of Steve’s found family.

Chrissy had already went out and bought two wardrobes full of clothes of varying sizes so that the little one would always have something fashionable to wear.

Robin was swearing undying fidelity to this three hour old baby.

The rest of the Party was promising to teach him all sorts of the things from science to basketball.

Even the boys from Corroded Coffin got in on it, offering their services to babysit whenever they got overwhelmed.

Steve and Eddie just watched in loving adoration for their friends and their family.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said. “How are you feeling right now?”

Steve kissed his lips. “I got everything I ever wanted and I couldn’t be happier.”

Eddie pulled Steve closer into his side. “I’m glad, Stevie.”

****

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