[blamehollywood-blog]

[thetattedstoner]

Tired of meeting people that’ll just become strangers sooner or later

[videoreligion]

[kurmez]

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[playgirlmaxwell]

[through-masters-eyes]

[tender-somethings]

[86oz]

[europeanmanclassic]

[playgirlmaxwell]

[neseninlenedesensiz]

[ax-ky]

[qimbecil-deactivated20120805]

[cinnabvnny]

happy saturday

[c-arioca]

[yaboybutagril]

Tatiana Chapter 3

I honestly have nothing to say so just read it.

Contains: Smut, Camgirl Nat, Donator Lottie.

As always huge thank you to @surfium for beta reading and helping with plot choices. This fic would not be happening if it wasn't for them so go show them love!

Chapter 3

Lottie tossed and turned all night long replaying the evening's events in astonishment. 

Part of her still couldn’t quite believe it had been real, instead wondering if she had fallen asleep before making it to the club and experiencing the most intense, vivid wet dream in the history of wet dreams. 

The memories flooding back was reassurance it had all been very much real. 

Seeing that tattoo wrapped around the woman’s thigh, Lottie’s mind refused to believe it could possibly be her, but just an incredibly hot, grumpy looking woman with an identical tattoo. 

The memory of her stuttering nervously when she first heard that voice. That low raspy whir that had been playing on repeat for the past 2 months. 

It was almost unmistakably her, ‘Tatiana’, but still Lottie couldn’t believe it. She had shook her head in disbelief and considered how she could possibly have stumbled across this one specific woman amongst the millions of other people in America. 

She remembered deciding she didn’t particularly care if it was actually her or not. It sounded like her, looked like her, she even carried herself exactly as she’d imagined. If it hadn't been her, Lottie knew she was taking that girl home and pretending it was either way. 

The memories she recalled once they had made it back to her apartment were the ones that really had Lottie turning onto her back and staring blankly at the ceiling for the umpteenth time that evening. The thought of what happened in the very bed Lottie sprawled across at that very moment. 

The kiss. God fucking damn it the kiss! Lottie could still feel Nat’s lips sliding against her own, her moans had tasted delicious ricocheting around her mouth and onto her tongue. 

She was just as needy as Tatiana had been on her latest stream. Her high pitched pleading ticked yet another box in Lottie’s head confirming it was really her. 

The moment Lottie could no longer deny it was really her was when Nat had tugged her shirt up over her head, the rest of her tattoos verifying Lottie’s wildest dreams. 

Even then. Even after practically scanning this woman’s finger prints and testing her DNA, Lottie still had a little voice in the back of her head telling her there was no way in hell it could possibly be her! 

Still, Lottie recalled fucking her as though it really was her, resisting the urge to moan out ‘Tatiana’ into the woman’s cunt. And Jesus Christ did she taste as good as Lottie had imagined. Better even. 

Hearing her moan Lottie’s name. Now that ruined her for life. No one would ever make her feel a fraction of the way that one word slipping from her lips had. 

Lottie could still feel the woman’s pussy wrapped around her fingers, could feel her clenching and unclenching as she came, as she moaned just for her and her alone. 

Part of her wanted to log onto that stream and tell every single person in that chat that this woman was hers. That she had claimed her and fucked her into the mattress and not a single one of those virgin, jobless losers would ever come close. 

She knew that was out of the question considering she had fucked this girl without a single mention of knowing who she really was, of knowing she had spent the last two months obsessing and fantasising about her like some crazy stalker. 

When Nat had asked to touch her, asked to make her come, Lottie almost told her she already had more times than anyone else ever had, but the timing hadn’t felt right. 

It wasn’t like Nat had mentioned it either, not that she would. Lottie guessed the woman didn’t go around advertising such a thing, especially since she used a fake name and hid her face. 

Regardless, Lottie knew she should have come clean and asked if it was her the moment she removed her shirt, probably even the moment she introduced herself at the club. Selfishly she hadn’t. Selfishly she hadn’t wanted a single thing to come between her and getting what she craved. 

And god did she crave it. She craved the way Nat’s fingers circled her clit, the way she took her time with her. The way her fingers curled inside and turned Lottie into a mumbling pile of want. No one, not even Lottie herself, had made her feel anything close to what this woman had. 

For the next couple of days, Lottie tried her hardest to busy herself with her studies in a desperate attempt to avoid checking her phone for a text she knew might never come. 

And why would it? This woman had thousands of others lining up and waiting for a chance. 

She probably should have just settled for being grateful she had at least once chance to get Tatiana into her bed. 

So yes. Lottie studied harder than ever, her head buried in her laptop for the majority of her days. She even decided to leave her phone at home and study in the college library to avoid checking it in hourly intervals. 

Within the space of a few hours, Tatiana had become no longer a faceless escape. She was a real, living, breathing human with a seemingly great personality alongside a face which turned out to be even more gorgeous than Lottie could have ever imagined. Her sharp cheek bones and catlike eyes were still burned into Lottie’s retinas. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her once again. 

It was both terrifying and thrilling in the best way. 

Lottie dangerously imagined what could become a reality. The countless nights she lulled herself to sleep with sweet thoughts of having Tatiana all to herself flooded her skull, taking a toll and leaving her head throbbing. 

She couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to risk hearing from Nat again. Her fears of someone getting close enough to see her, to really see her, was quite frankly horrifying. 

She shook away the thoughts and tried to reason with herself. 

Nat hadn’t even wanted to stay the night, let alone become close enough to learn about her shortcomings. Not to mention the fact Lottie was keeping a secret of epic proportions that would undoubtedly prevent them from ever progressing beyond fuck buddies if revealed. 

Lottie swiftly decided she was more than fine with that. Just like that, her impatience for a reply returned. 

Tuesday came and Lottie was filled with the usual mixture of excitement, alongside a foreign feeling she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It wasn’t quite jealousy. She knew streaming was Nat’s job and had absolutely no problem with that whatsoever. 

It was something resembling sadness. Maybe a feeling of inadequacy, wondering if maybe she hadn’t done a good enough job to warrant a text. Maybe someone else had done a better job than her. Maybe she blew her one chance to finally show this girl what she was made of. 

She bit her nails anxiously as she awaited the woman’s arrival, her pants still on which was somewhat unusual. She didn’t feel that usual rush, that desperation, that need for release that only this woman could give her. 

This time she felt nervous. She wondered how it would feel to see her again. She no longer needed to fantasize about how Nat tasted, how she smelled, how she felt, how she'd sound moaning her name, how it would feel to have all of her undivided attention. 

Before Lottie could spiral much further, the screen lit up and the livestream began. 

Turns out, watching the livestreams after sleeping with Nat -or ‘Tatiana’- had a devastating effect on Lottie. 

Yes, Lottie was hooked before, but now her obsession was spiralling into something far worse. Knowing she could really have her - the woman on screen suddenly a mere text away - was driving her insane. Before her thoughts were nothing but a pipe dream. Now they were a reality. A reality Lottie refused to lose no matter the cost.   

When Tatiana spread her thighs and revealed her glistening folds, Lottie drooled. Suddenly she was no better than Pavlov's dog. Her body awakened on instinct, her desire to taste had increased tenfold. The sight of the purple mark she sucked into the woman’s leg mere days ago had Lottie wanting to jump through the screen and lap at her cunt until she was crying once again, begging for it to stop, begging for the overstimulation to end. Lottie wanted to wring out every last orgasm she could find deep inside Nat’s cunt with her tongue alone. 

She wanted to do it right there in front of the camera. To let all her followers see her, for them to envy her as she slid to her knees and worshipped her. For them to witness the way Nat would moan for her, whimper for her, beg and plead for her. 

Strangely enough, Lottie’s pants remained in place the entire stream. It wasn’t that she was any less turned on than usual by the show, quite the opposite. But Lottie didn’t want to make herself come. No. She wanted to make Nat come. She wanted to taste her, to touch her, to fuck her with her strap and do a much better job than Nat had done to herself, legs spread wide as she ploughed the dildo into her own pussy. 

Nat’s moans sounded somewhat different than usual. Her breathing was still as ragged as ever, but the noises slipping through the speaker sounded more like grunts than her usually breathy whimpers. She almost sounded frustrated as she fucked herself harder still. The sound of her wet cunt slapping against the base of her glittery black dildo merging with disgruntled growls. With a final huff, Nat seemingly came. Her moans bordered on performative and her legs stayed wide open, not clamping shut as she usually did when she climaxed. 

If Lottie allowed herself a moment to dream, she would hope that Nat had faked it. That she had ruined her. That her orgasms would never feel as good now that Lottie wasn’t the one fucking them out of her. 

Unfortunately, Lottie knew she was good, but not that good. Still, the thought lodged itself within the crevices of her brain and continued to unfurl into a dream Lottie would surely revisit when she wasn’t actively gawking at her laptop. 

Once the livestream ended, Lottie sat in silence staring at the blank screen unable to shake the desperation from her bones, her veins pulsating with it. 

Her phone buzzed once and she almost launched herself across the couch to grab it.

A notification popped up on her lock screen. A text from an unsaved number. 

Lottie practically vibrated with excitement. What if it wasn’t her? What if it was her? Would opening the message so quickly seem too desperate? 

She unlocked her phone and checked the message without actually clicking on it. 

Unknown: Hey, it’s Nat from the other…

That was all Lottie could see. Her thumbs itched to click, to see the rest of the message. With the knowledge it was her, the anticipation burned uncomfortably inside the pit of her stomach. 

She tossed her phone aside and stood, pacing the room, running her hands through her hair as she went. 

How long was considered an appropriate amount of time before opening a text? She didn’t want to seem too available, but she didn’t want to seem uninterested either. She wanted to gauge a time that would say “I’m not some loser freak with no life that has been sitting here for days waiting for you to message me, but I also wanted you to message.” 

Was this how the girls chasing her felt? Pacing around the room debating all their life choices?

By the time Lottie was done spiralling, she picked up her phone and noticed it had been fifteen minutes since she received the text. 

Fuck it. That seems reasonable. Lottie decided. 

She sat back down on the couch and opened the text. 

Unknown: Hey, it’s Nat from the other night. 

Okay, so that was unhelpful. All that stress to find the only missing word from the message was “night”. Lottie sighed to herself, telling herself to chill the fuck out before typing out a reply, instead saving Nat’s number then replying. 

Lottie: Nat? Hmmm…

Lottie smiled to herself at her teasing reply before typing out another message to confirm she was joking, realising Nat might have thought she was serious. 

Clearly, Nat gave zero fucks about how fast she replied to texts because before Lottie could confirm she was in fact joking, she received a reply. 

Nat: You know a lot of girls named Nat who managed to make you come?

Lottie almost choked on her own salvia as she read through the message, swiftly gathering herself as her phone buzzed in her hands again. 

Nat: (image attached) Remember me now? 

Lottie’s mouth opened wide as she gawked at the picture of Nat sprawled out on her bed in nothing but a raggedy torn band tee and skimpy red panties. Lottie’s eyes zeroed in on her nipples peeking through the thin, over washed fabric of her shirt, clearly not bothering to put her bra back on after riding it during her livestream. Her milky thighs drew Lottie in next, her chipped polished fingers dancing over the tattoo on her thigh. 

She had seen an obscene amount of images of this woman in very similar scenarios, but never had the image been only for her. Lottie had the self-awareness to know her possessiveness over Nat and her attention was becoming slightly worrying, but found it hard to care when bathing in the midst of it. 

Once her brain decided to function again, Lottie typed out a reply. 

Lottie: How could I forget? 

Lottie’s leg bounced impatiently as she watched the three little dots at the bottom of the screen dance as Nat typed. Lottie bit her lip as she read through the reply. 

Nat: Come over? 

A pin dropped with her location. 

Lottie: OMW 

Never in all of Lottie’s life had she broken so many traffic laws during one short journey. Not that she could find it within herself to care. The ticket would be well worth it just to get her hands on Nat again. Hell, she had paid much more than a ticket's worth to see her naked before. 

She took two steps at a time as she sprinted to Nat’s floor, pausing at the top to catch her breath and attempt to calm her eagerness. 

Once her breathing had evened out slightly she strolled down the corridor, scanning the numbers on the doors until she made it to Nat’s and knocked politely. 

She only waited a brief minute before the door slid open and there she was. Nat, in all her torn band tee and pale skinned glory. Lottie had to pinch her own palm to prevent herself from reaching out to touch. 

“Hey,” Nat purred, leaning against the frame with a brow raised, scanning Lottie’s body, as though assessing whether she was worth allowing entry. 

“Hey,” Lottie returned politely, attempting to keep her giddiness under wraps. “You gonna let me in, or did I come all this way just to chat in the hallway?” 

Nat hummed, pleased with the response, before stepping aside and allowing Lottie to slip past her. 

Once inside, Lottie took a moment to gather her surroundings. Nat’s apartment was far smaller than her own, but no less impressive, well impressive to Lottie. 

She had imaged the woman’s apartment for some time now, hoping to gain some insight as to who Tatiana really was. 

Turns out, Tatiana - no, Nat - was relatively clean, not as clean as Lottie but she was well aware she was somewhat of a neat freak. 

Nat’s apartment was what Lottie would describe as ‘lived in’. Her couch looked more worn than hers, from overuse or being second hand, Lottie couldn’t quite tell. Instead of expensive paintings scattering her walls like Lottie’s apartment, Nat’s were littered with framed posters and more personal images such as a photo of Nat with two other women. Lottie did everything in her power to resist stepping closer for a better look. 

As she stepped further into the apartment, Nat strolling closely behind, she noticed the kitchen was yet again, well lived in. Various pots and pans piled up in the sink. Not enough to have built up over time, but enough to tell her the girl chose to cook opposed to ordering in like Lottie. 

Before she had a chance to delve further, Nat spoke up. “I would give you a tour, but this is pretty much it.”

Lottie could tell Nat was feeling self-conscious about her living space by the way she picked at her chipped nail polish and shuffled from one foot to another. Little did she know, she had nothing to be self-conscious about. Nat’s place was alive unlike hers. Lottie could almost feel the apartment breathing for itself. Hers was nice, yes, but it was quiet, lonely. Cold. 

“Well, I have yet to see the bedroom.” Lottie smirked, trying to ease Nat’s anxiety. 

It seemed to work. Nat grasped at Lottie’s hand and gently guided her toward her room. 

Inside was exactly as Lottie had remembered, although slightly bigger than it looked on camera. She glanced over towards a desk she deduced Nat must place her laptop on when streaming. 

Her gut twisted uncontrollably with guilt. She should say something now. She should just come out with it and admit she had seen her livestreams, that she was the woman who had essentially paid for this apartment. 

When Lottie turned around and glanced at Nat who was now perched on the edge of her mattress, giving Lottie time to take in her surroundings, all she could feel was guilt. It was all encompassing suddenly. The tips of her fingers began to tingle as a cold rush ran down her spine, all too familiar symptoms of an incoming panic attack. 

“You okay?” Natalie questioned softly, obviously noticing Lottie’s change in demeanour.

Lottie would later regret it, but she couldn’t bring herself to come clean at that moment. It felt too late already. If this was purely hooking up and nothing more then why did it matter? Or at least that’s how Lottie justified her actions. 

She stepped between Nat’s thighs, reaching down to grasp her chin and tilt her face up. “More than okay.” She whispered, leaning down to capture the blonde's lips, hoping to rid her mind of her inner turmoil. 

The taste of Nat’s soft lips sliding against her own turned her mind to a blissful static. All thoughts of anything except the woman below her slipped away as Nat leaned closer, her hands on Lottie's hips pulling her in. 

Lottie hummed against her lips, tangling her fingers through her bleach blonde locks and tugging lightly, causing Nat to gasp, her lips parting slightly. Lottie took her moment, slipping her tongue into Nat’s mouth and sliding it against hers. 

After what could have been two minutes or two hours, lost in each other, Lottie pulled back a fraction panting against Nat’s lips, her eyes opening slowly to see Nat already watching her intently. 

“Strip.” Lottie whispered, her hand slipping from her grasp in Nat’s hair and dropping to her side as she took a step back.

Nat’s eyes remained on her, lidded and hungry as she crossed her arms to tug her shirt up over her head. Lottie’s eyes greedily roamed the fresh expanse of skin lingering on her bare breasts and each flower decorating her lower torso. 

“Those too.” Lottie added, tilting her chin to the panties still hugging Nat’s hips. 

Nat sat back on her palms, smirking. “So I’m fully naked while you’re fully clothed? That hardly seems fair.” 

Chuckling lightly and shaking her head, Lottie slung her shirt up over her head, flinging it across the room to be dealt with later. The rest of her clothing met the same fate shortly after until she was standing confidently naked under Nat’s gaze. 

She allowed Nat a moment to take in her form. Her eyes greedily raked down her body, pausing on her tits before roaming lower to unashamedly gawk between her thighs. 

“Now take them off.” Lottie demanded firmly. “Or would you rather I stand here and let you drool a little longer?” 

Lagging for a moment, her eyes still trailing across Lottie’s olive skin, Nat peeled her panties off, making a point of keeping her thighs clamped shut, her brow raised tauntingly.

Lottie was more than okay with that, eager to be the one to physically pry them apart. She happily dropped to her knees and shuffled forward. Her hands firmly grasped at Nat’s knees and pulled them apart. 

“You have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen. Don’t hide it from me, Nat.” Lottie purred, her eyes zoned in on her cunt for the second time that evening without Nat even knowing. 

Every thought she had experienced during today's livestream came flooding back in an instant, her mouth drooled as her desire was relit. All that time she spent promising herself that if Nat would give her just one more chance, she would be sure to savour every second. 

“You have no idea how often I have come to the thought of how you taste.” She admitted quietly.

“It’s only been a few days.” Nat chuckled, snapping Lottie from her thoughts as her eyes widened at her own admission.

“I said what I said,” She recovered smoothly, pushing forwards and lavishing Nat’s hot cunt with her flat tongue, partly because she needed it and partly because she needed Nat to stop talking before she dug herself any deeper into a hole. 

Lottie relished in the soft, high pitched breath that caught in Nat’s throat as her tongue flicked across her clit and down to her entrance once again. Fuck, Nat was so damn soft against her tongue, her taste so uniquely her. 

Humming at the taste, Lottie wrapped her arms around Nat’s thighs, hoisting her further towards the edge of the mattress and burying herself deeper, causing Nat’s legs to flop over her shoulders with a surprised squeal that sent a rush of heat directly between Lottie’s thighs. 

Her spiral of remorse lessened by the second, her inhibitions wavering as Lottie overwhelmed Nat with her tongue, sucking her bundle of nerves inside her mouth and flicking the tip of her tongue over the top, causing Nat’s legs to shake. Natalie’s hand shot into her hair, combing through her silky locks and gaining a hefty grip to hold her close and roll her hips to the best of her ability under Lottie’s sturdy grip. 

As Lottie’s eyes slipped open, the sight knocked the wind from her lungs. Nat was still leaning back on her free hand, panting up at the ceiling, her tits jumping in time with her ragged breaths. She looked utterly breathtaking, literally. Lottie gasped for breath through her nose, refusing to allow anything to come between her tongue and its place between Nat’s thighs. 

The hot breath burning into Nat’s mound stole her attention from the ceiling, her eyes deliriously trailed to Lottie’s below her, lids heavy, her lip clamped between her teeth, fruitlessly trying to keep her noises to a minimum. 

The sounds Nat made were music to Lottie’s ears. High pitched, breathy little moans that oozed neediness. Nothing like the noises she had made on her stream earlier in the day. These were undeniably real. Not an ounce of frustration within them. 

“H-how do…” Nat's words were stolen from her tongue, bleeding into a broken guttural moan that ricocheted off the walls of her room as Lottie roamed lower, her tongue sliding inside her cunt to experience her walls fluttering around her muscle. 

Lottie hummed questioningly against her, rejecting the idea of peeling her mouth from Nat’s cunt. 

“God,” Nat whined pitifully before taking a steady breath. “What the fuck are you even doing that feels that good!?” The words rushed out in an attempt to get the question out before her voice broke once again. 

Chuckling lightly against her, Lottie doubled her efforts, eyes smirking up, oozing with the confidence Nat had bestowed upon her. 

Lottie knew if she ever had the chance to find her way between Tatiana’s legs, she would never come back from it, but god, she had no idea it would fuck her up this bad. Nat sounded even better than she did on some of her most memorable streams. Lottie was an addict, desperate for her fix, desperate for Nat to come on her tongue for her and her alone. 

It became rapidly clear Nat was close. Lottie had spent more than enough time studying her to know exactly how she sounded when she was nearing the edge. Her whimpers morphed into increasingly unrestrained moans, releasing unguarded now. Her thighs began to quiver around Lottie’s head, shaking her brain in the process as she dug the tips of her fingers into the meaty flesh of Nat’s thighs, preventing her from escaping her ministrations. 

“Fuck…” Nat cried, her back arched as the muscles in her arm gave out, her body flopping back against the mattress. “Lottie,”

Lottie would never tire of hearing the way her name sounded when it fell from Nat’s lips. No one had ever managed to force her name out so filthily, so needily. Lottie could feel her thighs becoming slick and sticky as her own desperation leaked from her cunt. 

Without warning, Nat’s thighs clamped around Lottie’s head, trapping her in place as her hips twitched and stuttered, her voice disappearing behind a muffled screech. 

The tense thighs around her head eventually turned slack, boneless. They flopped off Lottie’s shoulders as she slowed her movements, her tongue eventually coming to a stop. 

She pulled back to catch her breath, cheek pressed against Nat’s thigh, licking the mess off her lips as the woman above her recovered. 

“Jesus…” Nat mumbled, more to herself than to anyone in particular. 

Lottie giggled lightly as she rose to her feet, climbing up onto the bed and straddling Nat’s thighs, her palms resting on either side of her head as she gazed down at the blonde's blissed out expression. 

“Good?” Lottie questioned with a grin and a raised brow. 

Nat opened her heavy eyes only to roll them. “You know it was good, quit fishing for compliments.” She groaned, rubbing her face with her hands to bring herself back down to reality. 

“Maybe I have a praise kink?” Lottie teased, chuckling light-heartedly as she spoke. 

“Maybe?” Nat chided back, “I seem to remember the last time I called you a ‘good girl’ you came on my fingers. There’s no ‘maybe’ about it.” 

“Touché.” Lottie muttered, leaning down to capture Nat’s lips in a slow kiss once more. 

“Your turn?” Nat enquired against her lips, refusing to tear her mouth off Lottie’s completely as she spoke. 

Nat honest to god whimpered as Lottie pulled back, her hand against her chin, holding her in place. “Not yet. I’m not done with you.” Lottie took a moment to decide her next move, her mind drifting back to the livestream, to Nat ploughing herself with a dildo. 

Lottie had envisioned herself fucking Tatiana into the mattress many, many times before, but the real reason behind her desperation to fuck Nat with a strap-on wasn’t purely fueled by her desire. 

The need came from a much deeper - slightly selfish place. She wanted to hear how Nat would sound. Hear if she would sound as though she was struggling like she had been during her livestream. She wanted to know if it she would sound less disgruntled it was her driving the dildo into Nat’s slick cunt and not her own hand, instead the sounds replaced by either fucked out moans or maybe even screams of pleasure. Either eventuality Lottie would be very, very happy with. She decided it would be the perfect experiment to confirm her own delusions. That Lottie had ruined her, even for herself. 

“Do you have a strap?” Lottie purred, bending down to bite at Nat’s neck as she spoke. 

“Umm.. yeah.” Nat whispered breathlessly. Her mind returned to static as Lottie’s teeth sank into her flesh. “I- I haven’t used it before though.” She admitted somewhat shyly. 

Lottie tore herself from Nat’s neck and perched herself back up into her palms, eyeing the blonde curiously. 

“You mean you’ve never strapped, or that you’ve never taken it?” 

“Well, both.” Nat confessed as her cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink. “I-I mean I’m bi, so I’ve been with men. It’s not like it will be a problem… I just felt like I should say something. Now I’m starting to think I should just shut the fuck up.” Nat rambled on nervously as the ceiling suddenly became very interesting, unable to maintain eye contact.

“No no,” Lottie shook her head in protest, tilting her head over Nat’s to regain her attention. “I’m glad you told me. If you don’t want to I can think of a million other ways I’d happily fuck you.” 

“I want to.” Nat stated matter-of-factly. 

“Okay, we can go slow.” Lottie soothed prior to leaning across the mattress and pulling open the top drawer of Nat’s bedside table. 

“Wait.” Nat snapped, “How the fuck did you know it was in there?”  

Lottie froze in place, the realisation of what she had just done, what she had essentially just confessed, had her heart rate spiking. Her mind whirled violently with everything aside from a valid excuse for knowing Tatiana - God. No. Fuck. - Nat kept her abundance of sex toys in that specific place. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, this wasn’t how Lottie wanted Nat to find out. Hell, Lottie had hoped she might never find out. 

The air in the room suddenly felt foreign as Lottie’s lungs slowly collapsed in on themselves. She tried her best to hide her panic, her heart thudding behind her eyes. 

That was it. Lottie had blown it. Nat was sure to know the truth now. Would she kick her out of her apartment and never want to see her again? Would she cuss her out? Would she cry? No doubt she would feel betrayed, used. That was the last thing she wanted. 

Maybe she would be flattered? Maybe she wouldn’t mind that Lottie knew her? No. No. That was incredibly wishful thinking. No way on earth was this woman going to be completely fine with her anonymity being exposed and exploited so brazenly right under her nose. 

Lottie was mildly aware she couldn’t stay frozen like this forever as she prayed the ground would swallow her whole. 

How long had she been silent? Was it too late now to try and salvage some kind of excuse? Should she just come clean? Surely saying anything at this point would have been better than silence. Maybe Lottie’s anxiety had caused time to bend in on itself. Maybe just maybe she could fix it. If she could just stop her brain from melting under the heat of her anxiety and think of anything to say. 

Fuck Fuck Fuck. Say something Lottie. Say anything. Even admit it. Just say something.