#lmk if y'all want part 2 lol

[not-another-robin]

Miscellaneous Justice League Heacanons Because I Just Think They're Neat

(this has been in my drafts for months so I might as well post it. Also this is 2001 cartoon JL because I have taste)

The watchtower stays clean only in the sense that a shared apartment stays clean. It's a home for most of the league, so it looks like it. Usually it's at least presentable, most of the lived in detritus is kept to the recreational areas, but sometimes even the work rooms get messy. They do have to deep clean eventually, and obviously everyone is roped in "because we all live here dammit" (to which Bruce tried to response "I live at Wayne Manor" but was interrupted by a sponge to the face). John insists on playing music over the loudspeaker because it's not cleaning day without it. Clark and Diana loved the 70s jams instantly, J'onn and Wally warmed up to it pretty quick, and Bruce and Shay still deny any accusations of grooving (the rumors are true)

Wally dedicated an embarrassing amount of time and effort into starting a prank war. Disabling the off button on comm links, playing Its Not Unusual over the loudspeaker 8 times, filling the Javelin with bubbles, the works. To be fair, the others did crack and started striking back eventually. J'onn had a natural advantage for pranking and Wally is very proud of him. John and Shayera were an unstoppable team, but eventually got nerfed by the inability to not one up each other. Diana didn't fully grasp the concept ("Di, girl, buddy, trapping me in a locker is not really a prank") and Clark got points for creative use of frost breath. Bats held out the longest without retaliating, but playing the Imperial March whenever he entered a room did get him in the spirit.

J'onn is invited to both girl's night and boy's night, but is generally considered part of the girl's team over the boys. There was a turf war over this because technically he doesn't count as either, but Diana and Shay had the more compelling argument. Also J'onn thinks the men's locker room is gross, so that broke the tie. The boys are still a little bitter.

The watchtower has slowly accumulated a ridiculous amount of game systems. There was a drunk conversation and online shopping spree about who's the best at Super Smash Brothers, and Bruce was buzzed enough to kindly bankroll a multi gen tournament. Now the watchtower is home to about 30 years worth of home gaming systems, including a Wii which has been used for Just Dance on more than one occasion (that info is not permitted to leave the watchtower)

If the league has significant downtime (usually do to Space Diseases that cannot be helped) they pass the time by working their way through one of Bruce's many DVD box sets. The Charlie's Angels marathon was notable because it gave them a new thing to say whenever Alfred calls (he has once or twice replied with a "Good Morning Angels")

There has been more than one occasion that J'onn has accidentally shifted into a famous person while going out. A lot of the time when he needs to pick a form in a pinch he'll just use a random one he finds on a magazine or something, and there have been multiple occasions when that someone was Beyonce

[lttllovely]

NEWSPAPER CRUSH | Zeke Thompson x Reader

Summary: You are the head writer and editor of Summerton High School’s newspaper. Bored with writing the same fluff stories about the school’s glorious football team, you find the sudden appearance of the Minutemen to be a welcome breath of fresh air, writing-wise and life-wise. You find yourself becoming more drawn into investigating just who the guys behind the snowsuits are. And maybe a little too invested in the life of one of your main suspects, Zeke Thompson.

Movie: Minutemen (2008)

Pairing: Zeke Thompson x Reader

Genre: Fluff/Romance

English class was one of your favorite classes, just behind journalism. Of course, this didn’t come as a shock to anyone since you were the head of Summerton High’s very own newspaper. Not like there was much competition for the position, but for what it was worth, you thought of yourself as a pretty damn good writer. Of course, you loved English class because of all the expected reasons. You loved expanding your knowledge of the literary greats, experimenting with your creative writing, and getting into discussions about whatever novel you were currently reading. But those weren’t the only reasons that you loved the class. 

As of recent, another reason you loved English was that you were seated next to Zeke Thompson himself. Or as you liked to call him, much to his chagrin, the tall snowsuit guy. Of course, this happened since Mrs. Zaninovich was one of the few teachers that enforced assigned seating. At the beginning of the year, neither you nor Zeke cared too much about the seating arrangement. Zeke mostly brooded about having to sit near the front and was pretty quiet. Meanwhile, you gladly volunteered to speak in class discussions about novels such as Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and Homer’s The Odyssey.  

This dynamic changed once the infamous Snowsuit Guys had shown up. Now, you used your time in class to get any information that you could out of him about his being a part of the group. At some point during your investigation, Zeke became one of your main suspects. Despite him either not responding to your questions or outright rejecting your claims, you persisted. Yet, even with your original intentions, the two of you had strangely become friends. Well, in your own way.

You would question him about the snowsuit guys and chastise him over his responses, and if you were lucky, you’d get an actual smile out of him. And if you were being honest, his smile was pretty cute. Now, you were approaching him just after his welding class had finished. It was pretty convenient for you to stop by since lunch was about to start, and his class was right by the cafeteria. You waited expectantly by the door, watching as he packed up his equipment for the day.

Upon seeing you, he perked up, even straightening his back rather than staying in his regular slouch. You were touched by it, but only smiled in response. He joked, “Oh, so you’re waiting for me now?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Oh my god, don’t say it like that,” You protested. This didn’t stop Zeke from forming a small smirk on his face. “Y’know, for such a quiet, mysterious loner-type, you sure are cocky,” You commented. At the comment, Zeke’s smirk disappeared. He replaced it with his usual blank, broody expression, but you could still see a hint of a smirk peeking through.

You laughed. “I saw that. God, you are not good at keeping up that act.” You pointed out.

Zeke tilted his head at you. “Who said it was an act?” He asked.

“Me, Zeke, Me,” You emphasized. “Look, you’re just as bad at keeping up that broody, loner persona as you are at pretending that you aren’t one of Summerton High’s proud knights in shining snowsuits.” You quipped.

He shook his head. “Once again, not one of them.” He declared.

Quirking an eyebrow at him, you continued. “Sure, sure.” You mumbled off-handedly. “By the way, I came by to see which of these photos you think is better for the newspaper. Y’know, to see which of these you think makes you more appealing to the ladies?” Shuffled through the papers in your satchel, you pulled out two versions of the newspaper, each having a different cover of the Minutemen on the front page. You handed both to Zeke.

He laughed, his gaze going between the two newspapers. “Wow, how will I ever choose? Now, should I go with the one with the guys in snowsuits or the one with the guys in snowsuits?” He asked, sarcasm oozing from him.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Hey!” You shouted, grabbing a newspaper out of his hand and swatting at him with it. He let out a yelp and looked around to check that no one else had heard it. It took all the willpower in you to not burst out laughing, but you still let out a few chuckles. “Look, if you end up with a photo in the newspaper that makes you guys look even uglier than you already are, then that is your fault. Not mine.”

Zeke handed you back the newspaper, shaking his head. “Oh, I doubt that you think I’m ugly.” He remarked.

Your walking slowed to a crawl. You returned his comment with a pointed stare, clutching your newspapers a little tighter than necessary. “What does that mean?” You questioned.

The two of you had polar opposite attitudes. While you were rigid and stuck in place, he carried a casual, almost arrogant swagger with him as he entered the cafeteria. “I don’t know. I’m just saying that maybe you made up thinking that I’m one of the snowsuit guys so you could have an excuse to talk to me.” He said, shrugging as he ventured further and further from you.

You gaped. “Oh, you know that’s not what this is about!” You shouted, but you could practically feel the smirk on his face as he headed toward his usual seat with Charlie and Virgil. It almost made you feel sick with embarrassment, especially since there was a hint of truth in it. Your cheeks were flushed red as you headed toward your own table with Jeanette.

Of course, nothing got past Jeanette. You could already tell that you couldn’t escape talking about the ungodly exchange with her when you saw her looking back and forth between you and Zeke. And to add insult to injury, she had definitely caught Zeke’s attention thanks to how unsubtle she was. Great. “Am I going crazy or was Zeke Thompson just flirting with you?” She asked, practically already jumping out of her seat at the exchange.

“What? He wasn’t. We were just talking about the newspaper.” You explained, but Jeanette knew better. Her keen eye for detecting lies and her love for romance couldn’t be deterred by the most effective of liars and aromantics, and you were a terrible liar.

“Oh, come on! You’re blushing hard! You’re totally into him!” She squeaked, squealing from excitement. While you loved Jeanette and her bright, bubbly personality, she made it very, very easy for anyone and everyone to hear what she was saying.

You quickly covered her mouth, gritting out a bitter “Shut up!” as you surveyed the room to check that no one had heard her. Jeanette quickly stopped, but you could tell that her brain was still whirring with ideas about how to set you two up.

Thankfully for you, almost no one had paid attention to Jeanette’s little outburst. Well, except for the one person that mattered the most. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Zeke staring at you two. You immediately hid behind your hand. But it didn’t exactly help. Zeke chuckled, then began laughing when you decided to flip him off instead. 

God, you were not going to survive this year. You could only hope that by the end of it, you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you did now. And that Zeke would stop messing with you. But you knew that neither would probably come true.

[reidreaders]

Your Insta If You Were Dating Spencer Reid Pt. 3

A/N: Requested by @its-jennarose thank u for giving me an excuse to make more lol <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Liked by babygirlpg, davidrossi, and 136 others

y/n I ❤️ being a passenger princess

View all 17 comments

drreid I ❤️ driving you around!

-> emprentiss you hate driving simp

babygirlpg best BAU coupleeeee

chocthunder he knows how to drive???

-> y/n he literally knows everything

Liked by ssahotchner, emprentiss, and 167 others

y/n can y'all believe this is what I sleep next to every night

View all 23 comments

drreid Why do you have to keep posting pictures of me in bed?

-> y/n ur so cute when ur sleepy 🥰

chocthunder oh Jesus christ

-> emprentiss I second that

babygirlpg you guys need to be nicer in these comments he's cute and you know it

-> drreid Thanks, Penelope. ☺️

Liked by jenniferj, chocthunder, and 179 others

y/n spent our day off having a picnic in the park

View all 20 comments

drreid I had the best day with you.

-> y/n me too spence 😘😘

jenniferj such a cute date idea!

davidrossi Have fun kids!

ssahotchner Glad you were able to enjoy the time off.

Liked by drreid, babygirlpg, and 195 others

y/n coffee date before work!

View all 18 comments

drreid My two favorite things!

emprentiss kind of rude you didn't bring coffee for the rest of us but ok

-> jenniferj so true

-> davidrossi so true

-> y/n Rossi???

-> davidrossi I hate the coffee here okay

Liked by davidrossi, emprentiss, and 147 others

y/n halloween came early!

View all 26 comments

drreid The ren faire was so much fun! Thank you for coming with me.

-> y/n anything for you...

ssahotchner Looks like fun! Jack said he wants to join you next time.

-> drreid He's more than welcome to!

babygirlpg I think true love might be going to a ren faire just bc your bf wants to

-> jenniferj I think you might be right

-> emprentiss well if that's the case, I hope I never find true love

Hope you guys enjoyed this one! My requests are open so lmk what else you wanna see :)

MASTERLIST

[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ bad luck comes in threes (and in me)

›› nsfw 18+ / 3 part fic

@ace_343 on twt

ch 2 ♡ ch 3

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› naoya zenin x f!reader ›› megumi fushiguro x f!reader ›› toji fushiguro x f!eader ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi / megumi x f!reader x toji ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi + toji ›› started: 1/12/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are close friends. He invites you to his family's estate where you start to notice how bad your luck really is.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, pseudo-incest (they all want y/n, not eachother), harsh language, abuse, power imbalance, dubious consent / rxpe / noncon

‹𝟹 tags: AGED UP CHARACTERS!, au - no deaths, au - toji and megumi are part of zenin clan still, power imblance, degradation, choking, loss of virginity, name calling, pet names, some fluff and LOTS OF SMUT, slight angst, all the zenins want you basically, vaginal, blow jobs, cunnilingus, face sitting, 4some, mdom, fsub, pseudo-incest, meet the family, breeding, cum as lube, cum swapping, light blood, aggressive choking, will update tags as more is added, praise, being called a good girl

‹𝟹 notes: this is a long time in the making. i probably started this fic over a month ago >< i've been working on it more than my lfls fic that i like more. just smthn abt naoya...... (usually i prefer naoya to be subby but this fic is diff oopsies :3!). lmk what y'all think.i'll be updating my other fic real soon but for now, crumbs of this i guess LOL. i was originally going to do a oneshot but it was already starting to get long and i hadn't even progressed much in the plot i have written up x-x so i figured i'd do 3 chaps since it's like the theme >:3 hope y'all like it!!!

i'll be updating tags as it progresses. i'm super excited abt this fic even tho it's like 99% smut. (idk how to write stuff w/o smut oops) what can i say??? 🤌

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 1: Exposed

“So, do you think you can make it?” Megumi asks, taking a sip of his coffee and looking at you inquisitively. “To my family event, the reunion thing, I mean.”

You hadn’t thought about it much. Sipping on your tea, you contemplated. You’ve never met Megumi’s extended family; you had no idea what they would be like. Megumi’s family is huge, and it would be a multi-day event held at their estate. “Oh, what the hell. I have nothing better to do during winter break anyways.”

His face lights up a bit at your confirmation, but Megumi tries his hardest to hide it. You can see the blush creeping across his nose, his cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. He was like a little puppy, excited to see you.

“Make sure to bring any nice clothes you want to wear, but there will be pajamas and toiletries provided to you.” He finished his drink and moved to throw his away. “Are you done too?”

You felt bad, you had a little bit of your tea left and he was patiently waiting for you to finish to throw your trash away for you. You hurriedly suck up the remainder of the tea through the straw, and hand him the empty cup. “Thanks, Megs.” You chirp.

Megumi blushes and looks away as he takes your cup from your hands.

--

You’re back at your house, frantically packing last minute before Megumi comes over to pick you up. You’ve always been an overpacker, and you have no idea what to expect. You throw all sorts of garments into a pile that you want to take: casual clothes like leggings and hoodies, dresses and formalwear, and intimates. You blush, picking up matching sets of underwear and bras. You decide to toss them onto the pile anyways, better prepared than not. You didn’t know who you were “preparing” for, but felt your cheeks flush anyways. I’m meeting my close friend’s extended party and I’m packing lingerie, am I a fucking creep? You shake your head, trying to shake the thoughts out too.

You finish stuffing your clothes into your bags, packing some makeup and skincare that they probably wouldn’t have available. Just as you finish zipping your second bag, you hear a loud knock on the front door. It’s Megumi.

You open the door with a soft smile, greeting Megumi. “Thanks for picking me up Megs! Can you help me with my other bag?”

He looks down to where you’re gesturing, noticing the other bag. “Jeez ____, it’s a 3 day party. How many clothes do you need?”

You blush, sheepishly. “I just want to be prepared… y’know?” Megumi huffs and groans before picking up both bags. A lady should never have to carry her own bags, and he noticed it seemed like you were struggling with how heavy these bags were, being packed to the absolute brim.

“T-thanks, Megs.” You croak out as you follow behind him to his car. He doesn’t reply, hoisting your bags in the trunk before slamming it shut. You open the door and sit in the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt with an audible click. He gets in shortly after you, adjusting his seatbelt and turning the car on. 

The silence is thick, but not awkward. You and Megumi were comfortable around each other, not requiring a word to be said as you sat in comfortable silence on the drive to his family’s estate. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you ask Megumi, breaking the silence, “So what are the plans for the event? How big is it going to be, anyways?”

Megumi answers you, not taking his eyes off the road. “It will have pretty much my entire family, extended family, and family friends. There’s lots to do at our estate, from the gardens, movie room, bar room, and more. As for planned events, music and lots of food, maybe dancing?” His tone ends questioningly, he knows his family isn’t particularly fond of frivolous activities like dancing, but there might still be some as more people loosen up.

You nod, taking in his answer. This sounds almost a little exciting. Much better than spending time holed up in your room, studying or watching youtube.

--

Megumi pulled up to the grandiose estate. “Wow Gumi, I knew your family was loaded…. But not THIS loaded,” You gasped in awe. The entire property was large enough to be a mini village. You were shocked, to say the least. The beautiful landscaping, trees, the koi pond that connected into a river surrounding the main building… it was all too beautiful.

“Yeah, they are wealthy on a whole different level,” he responds, as he pops the trunk and retrieves your bags. “Usually they have servants around, but I’ll show you around the estate myself instead.” He starts walking towards the front entrance, you follow him closely behind, not wanting to get lost.

Megumi doesn’t even have to open the door, servants inside let him in as soon as he approaches. He briskly walks along the pavilion, turning left towards a long corridor. You try to match pace, but his long legs gives him an advantage. You take this moment, a few paces behind Megumi, to admire his raven locks bouncing as he walked.

As you’re walking, you pass an entryway, seeing a few figures to your right. Someone clicks their tongue. “I see my cousin Megumi understands,” he starts, eyes following your figure as you walk past him, “that a woman’s place is three steps behind a man’s.” This mysterious man, related to Megumi, smirks as your figure disappears.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s so full of shit it’s festering,” Megumi spits out. He seems to really hate whoever that guy was. Megumi leads you to a room down a quiet corridor and opens the door. “This will be your room for the next few nights,” He announces as he enters the room and sets your bags down. “My room is on the other side of the estate. These are the guest rooms. We can check mine out later, if you’re interested.” He flushes at that last part, looking down and uncomfortably shifting his weight. “Anyways, I have to clean up before dinner in an hour. I’ll be back to see you soon.’

Megumi retreats from your room and closes the door behind him. You decide to unpack, putting things in the drawers and hanging some items in the closet. The room was quite spacious, with its own bathroom attached and adjacent to this room.

You haven’t finished unpacking yet but decided to take a quick shower just to freshen up. You scope out the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind you. Turning the shower on to a scalding hot temp, you wait for it to heat up as steam fills the bathroom. You strip and enter the shower.

--

He stalks the hallway you were walking through but a moment ago. He’s insanely curious as to what you look like up close, intrigued by your fleeting form as you walked by behind Megumi. He wondered if you were his toy, you following Megumi like a puppy definitely gave off that message.

He can still smell a lingering scent of citrus and flowers. He knows it’s you, because women of the clan are usually not permitted to walk this side of the estate anyways. He’s following your trail, like a predator following its prey. He sees the faint glow of light coming from the crack of a door and approaches it.

He knocks once. No response. He knocks twice. Still nothing. Naoya Zenin believed he was a gentleman, but he had his limits. This was his future estate, he believed he had every right to know every single thing going on under this roof.

He lets himself in, and immediately sees the cracked bathroom door, a bit of steam escaping. He hears you humming while taking a shower, and smirks. He silently closes the door, and makes his way towards your plush bed. He sees a bag open, clothes strewn about. Something frilly and lacy catches his eye, and he walks towards the table instead. He picks the article of clothing up, noticing he was holding a black thong, laces and bows, adorned with gems along the thin waistband. He licked his lips, unholy thoughts flooding his brain.

He hears you shut off the shower, and quickly pockets the garment, swiftly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. A few moments pass, and the door of the bathroom swings open. Steam floods your room, quickly dissipating. You have a towel wrapped around your body, still humming as you walk towards your pile of clothes. You had set a specific set on top to put on after your shower. You could have sworn the thong was there, but as you rummaged through your bag the garment was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for these, little miss?” You gasp and turn around to see a man sitting on your bed, holding up your thong with 1 finger, while smirking and eyeing you down. You nearly drop your towel, but regain composure.

“Who are you?” You ask, unsure of why a strange man you’ve never seen before let himself into your room.

“My apologies, doll, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Naoya Zenin. I’m set to be the next heir of the clan and estate,” he smirks, “And I figured I should personally introduce myself to you. It would be impolite of me not to do so. Who are you?”

“I’m _____, Megumi’s friend. He invited me over to meet all his family.” His ears perked up at you mentioning your friendship with Megumi, a devious thought crossing. You were still in your towel, cold air further cooling your already wet skin.

“You didn’t answer my first question, little miss. Were you planning on wearing these?” He practically spins the panties around his finger, staring you down intently. “I didn’t think such a good girl would bring something like this to wear when meeting her friend’s family…” He trails off.

A blushes creeps along your face, you didn’t think someone would know. You didn’t think someone would barge into your room, look through your clothes, and tease you about it. You couldn’t even look Naoya in the eye, shame clearly on display on your features.

“Don’t worry, woman, I won’t tell anyone. You wouldn’t want your close friend, Megumi, to know about this right? I won’t tell; however, my silence has a price.” He finishes his comment, smirking at you. His sultry gaze was locked on you, scanning your body from head to toe. He grinned and licked his lips, thinking about how he could manipulate you.

“What do you mean?” You look up at him, confused and unsure about the situation. “What do I have to do?” At that question, Naoya lifts himself from your bed to make his way towards you. His gaze never once leaving yours, making intense eye contact that sent shivers down your spine and left you trembling. You felt like prey being stalked by a predator.

Naoya is right in front of you now, as he grabs both wrists with his hands and lifts them above your head. You’re startled but have no time to react as he pushes you against a wall, wrists pinned above you. You can feel Naoya’s hot breath tickling your cheek, making you lose all sense of rationality. He grins at you, looking down as he has you in a position you can’t easily free yourself from. Your head hangs low, looking down, trying to stifle your heavy breathing. You don’t want him to know his actions are affecting you.

“I know women are dumb, but seriously, how can you not know what I mean? At least you’re pretty….” He leaves his sentence unfinished, bringing a cold hand to your chin and tilting your head to look at him. “Little miss, I’ll explain it to you once, in an easy way to understand. I want to use you. Your body, specifically. Will you be a good girl and let me? Or do you want me to make you.” Naoya’s tone drops a bit, almost grunting at the end. Thoughts about what “using you” entails floods your mind. You’re inexperienced, but not entirely clueless. Your blush deepens as you look into his eyes, now peering down at you.

You didn’t think being degraded and praised in the span of a few seconds would entice you as much as it would. Normally you’re a very independent woman, fully capable of realizing your own dreams and pursuing your own goals. But something… something about being put down but also called a good girl sent you driving up the wall with insanity. You were hooked near instantly.

“Yes sir,” you meekly respond, looking up at Naoya. Your emotions and lust are on clear display for him, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Good girl.” He smirks. “Just to be clear, I have very specific tastes and like to be pleased in a certain way. Try and make me proud, you dumb whore.” Your cheeks flared red at the insult. “Open your mouth, cunt.”

You made no hesitation to fulfill his command. He still had a firm grip on your chin, leaning down as he spit into your mouth. “Swallow, princess.” He instructs as he pushes your mouth closed. You comply, feeling more heat pooling between your legs. “Good girl,” he purrs as you open your mouth to show him.

He leans back into you, lips crashing into yours. He nips at your bottom lip, drawing a tiny bit of blood as he goes back to kissing you. He can taste the blood mixed with both of your saliva as he forces his tongue into your mouth, trying to push his way into every part of you he can. His hand previously at your chin is moving down toward your neck, resting into a firm grip across your neck. You can still breathe, but the firm pressure while he’s sloppily kissing you elicits a few soft moans from you into his mouth. You can’t tell, but he’s grinning as his grip increases a bit. He pulls away before taunting you, “Do you like that? Huh? Are you a masochist or something?” He’s not relenting, grip strengthening as you’re looking up at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

You’re unable to speak, so you try to nod your head to show him that he’s right. He notices and loosens his grip before moving his hand towards your chest. “Good girl,” he praises you. “I like that.” He leaves kisses in a trail from your lips to your neck, kissing over the faint marks his hands left before. You’re still against the wall, hands above your head, and he released his other grip before picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“Next time, I want to see you wear that slutty fucking lingerie you brought. You’re such a dirty girl.” He peers down at you as you’re left exposed on your bed. He’s crawling above you, pushing you into the mattress. He gives you a few impatient kisses before moving back to your chest, grabbing one of your breasts while his mouth moves to the other. His other hand is fervently roamed your body, moving down your tummy towards your hips and eventually resting on your thigh. His hands were soft but rough trailing along your skin, as if he was searching for something.

Naoya’s hand slips to your inner thigh, just shy of your exposed cunt. He lightly grips it as he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he took his hand from your breast and pushed your thighs apart. He left love bites and marks as he made his way to your cunt, stopping to look up at you. He grinned as he spit on one of his fingers, prodding its way through your folds to find your clit. He’s been with many women, and although he has an arrogant attitude, he does know exactly how to please a woman.

He rubs circles around your clit as his mouth leaves a little bite mark against your inner thigh. You softly moan at the pain as Naoya’s eyes flick up to meet yours. Although you can’t see it, you’re sure he has that asshole smirk of his. Your suspicions are pretty much confirmed when he says “Are you some masochist? Some dumb bitch who likes to be hurt. For real?” You think you heard a laugh as he moved his finger down to your hole, spitting some more before he fucked you with a finger. You didn’t need any more lube, you were practically drenched. He pushed his finger in, feeling how tight your hole was with only one of his fingers.

“You have the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt. I’m impressed. Are you a virgin too?” He looked up at you, expecting an answer.

“Yeah..” You tried to hide your face with your hands, embarrassed at your lack of experience. Naoya saw it differently though. His cock twitched in his pants as you replied, and he started moving his finger inside your tight cunt. He loved hearing the little moans you make as he slipped his finger in and out, a lewd wet sound filling the room. He was trying to get you used to it, but he was getting impatient. He was already working harder for any woman he’s ever been with.

His mouth moved above your clit, tongue flicking around the sensitive bud as he slipped in another long finger into your hole. He curled and scissored his fingers, trying to stretch you as his fingers fucked you faster. Your face was flush with embarrassment as you still tried to contain some of your moans. One more finger slipped in, stretching your walls while he moved above you, face aligned with yours.

He kept fingering your cunt as he aggressively kissed you, biting your lip before he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could feel yourself come closer to the edge, your core tightening. You were moaning into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck pulling his body closer into yours.

“Fuck... Naoya…” you whined out as you felt the thread about to snap, “I’m gonna—cum!!” His fingers slammed into your cunt as he was leaving marks along your neck. You felt your walls tighten around his fingers as he expertly prepped your cunt for the main event.

“You’re such a good girl… I almost feel bad taking your virginity. Almost.” Naoya takes out his fingers, sucking on a few of them to taste you. He pushes one of his fingers into your mouth, commanding you to taste your own cunt.  “Next time I’ll taste you myself… but I can’t wait any longer,” he says as he’s taking off his shirt and pants, pulling down his briefs to expose his large cock. He moves up above you again, grabbing your legs by the ankle as his body is pushed against yours. He’s putting you in a mating press. He moves the tip to your entrance and spits on his cock before slowly pushing inside, feeling your tight walls around his girthy cock.

He gives you time to adjust, but it isn’t nearly enough. Naoya has been kind enough, but he always takes what he wants. Still, he will be nice one last time. “I’m gonna fuck you how I want to now, okay whore? You’re gonna be a good girl and take it anyways, right?” He gives you no time to prepare as he slams into you, bottoming out, forcibly deflowering you. The pain hurts, but Naoya is relentless. He pulls out and briefly gives you a moment of respite before slamming his cock back into your cunt. Despite the pain, the feeling is like never before as his body is pushed against yours, cock ramming in and out of your hole. Your cute moans are like music to his ears.

He leans down towards your face, seeming like he’s going to kiss you but instead spits on you. He moves a hand to grasp around your throat as you’re looking up at, unable to make any sound as his cock abuses your hole. The pressure and lack of air make your head feel dizzy as he spits again, degrading you. “You like that too, huh, stupid slut.” He hips pick up speed, pulling out before repeatedly bottoming out into your cunt. He lets go of your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. He would never admit it, but the sound of you struggling to breathe drives him insane.

He spits on his hand and moves it to your clit, fervently rubbing your bud, bringing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. You feel the waves of pleasure overwhelm your body as he’s raw dogging your cunt and relentlessly abusing your clit. Your moans are laced with pleasure, dripping with your ecstasy as you cum over Naoya’s cock, tightening your walls around him.

Naoya mercilessly fucks your virgin hole like he deserves it, like it’s owed to him. Whatever he wants, he gets. He’s grunting as moaning as he picks up speed, fucking you like an animal. “Hey bitch, ah fuck—I’m gonna cum in you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl alright?” He lightly slaps your face as he’s finishing his sentence, bottoming out for the last time before he slams back inside your cunt and paints your insides white. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you; there’s so much of it that it leaks out, a lewd sight before Naoya as he looks down at where you’re both connected. Before he can pull out and clean himself, the door to the guest room slightly creaked open as if it had been left ajar, not fully closed. Naoya cursed himself for not closing and locking the door.

--

Megumi had been standing there for not even 5 minutes when he went to check on you and bring you to dinner. He was approaching your room when he heard faint moaning coming from your room.  He was confused and curious, stopping in front of your door as he noticed it was left slightly open. What he saw left him shocked and speechless, unable to move or avert his gaze through the crack.

He heard you more than he could see you clearly, but your moans that are more beautiful than a symphony of angels was more than enough to make Megumi’s cock strain in his pants. He peered closer, unable to see who was fucking you but still able to see your bodies colliding. He couldn’t deny how erotic it was to see you get fucked, but a twang of jealousy and pain struck his heart that he wasn’t the one making your body shake in pleasure.

He hears a voice, it sounds familiar although he can’t quite place it, telling you he’s about to cum. Megumi leans forward more, slightly pushing the door as he watches the other man breed you. Just as the door squeaks, the man’s head whips to see the door and he makes eye contact with Megumi.

--

“____, what are you doing?” Megumi questions as he practically stumbles into the room. You lift your head to see Megumi looking at you and Naoya in horror. Shame and embarrassment overcome you, and you move to cover yourself with some blankets as Naoya got off of you and faced Megumi,

“I think it’s more appropriate to ask what are you doing, Megumi?” Naoya’s staring daggers into Megumi; he’s unaffected that his family member caught him in a compromising position, almost as if he’s used to it.

“I was coming to get ___ for dinner… I didn’t realize she was busy being a disgusting fucking whore and sleeping with my family though.” He looks over to you, making eye contact as he sees tears form in the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t actually think you’re disgusting, quite the opposite in fact. But he’s so upset that someone else got to be with you first, and Naoya of all people. As if that scum deserved to be with someone like you.

Naoya could instantly tell what was going on here. He can read Megumi like a book, and smirks as he grabs fistfuls of your hair and pulls you against his chest to taunt Megumi. “Looks like you lost. This is why I’ve always been superior to you. You wanted this little slut, huh? Mad that I broke her in first, aren’t you?” His voice is laced with amusement as he provokes Megumi. He pulls your head to be almost level with his as he spits onto your face. “Your little friend is quite the slut, I had a lot of fun using her like the whore she is. She probably wouldn’t even mind if you joined in, isn’t that right bitch?”

Despite the predicament you were in, you couldn’t help but feel aroused at Naoya’s manhandling and suggestion of Megumi joining in. It had never crossed your mind, although Megumi is quite attractive, you didn’t think he was interested. You were only able to mutter out a small “yes” as you look over to Megumi, noticing the flush in his cheeks reaching all the way to the ends of his ears, and the straining bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry, ___... Be good for me, please?” He was almost pleading as he was walking over to the bed, already starting to strip.

“You can hurt her and call her names, that dumb whore likes it.” Naoya says, moving aside to let Megumi have easier access to you. You’re still lying on your back, barely recovered from getting your guts rearranged only minutes before. Megumi stands in front of you before kneeling down to get at eye level with your cunt. Naoya hadn’t been able to get up since Megumi stumbled into the room; because of this, your womb was filled to the brim with Naoya’s hot cum leaking out of your small hole. Megumi’s eyes were immediately locked on at the lewd sight before him when he used both hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart.

He moved a slender finger past your leaking hole, scooping a bit of cum up with his fingers as he dragged his finger across your clit. The sharp inhale and moan you made sounded absolutely divine to Megumi, urging him to keep going. “Good girl…” he purrs, as he moves his long fingers down to your hole again, once again scooping another glob of cum. “Sit up, slut,” He commands as he stands up. You comply, not willing to play any games in a situation like this. He shoves his cum covered fingers into your mouth; you lap it up and suck his fingers without having to be told anything. Megumi grins. “Good girl, ____. Such a good girl.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you slut?” You hear Naoya’s remark from aside you, he’s watching all of this unfold right before him. Megumi takes his fingers out of your mouth, Naoya grips you with fistfuls of hair and forces you to look at him. “Answer me, bitch.” He glares at you intensely.

“Yes… yes sir… I do.” You try to look anywhere except him but Naoya isn’t having it.

“When men are speaking, you show them the respect they deserve. That means you answer clearly and fucking pay attention. Got it?” He tugs your head to face him, leaning in closer until he’s only a few inches from your face. “Open your mouth, bitch. And don’t swallow until I tell you to.” You comply and he spits into your mouth, before closing the gap and letting his lips crash into yours. He bites your lip, drawing blood. The metallic essence mixes with his spit before Naoya leans back and instructs you to swallow. It feels perverse and humiliating to admit that it turned you on.

Megumi dropped onto his knees again, this time pushing his slender fingers into your cunt. It feels different this time for you; he’s gentler as he stretches you open. He takes his time adding more fingers, taking in every moment and feeling.

“Let’s change the position, yeah Megumi?” Naoya says it more as a statement and less of a question as he’s already moving to rest on the bed against the wall, pillows propping him up. He pulls you away from Megumi while simultaneously flipping you onto your tummy. He pulls you into his lap, supporting your arms until you’re able to prop yourself up above his cock. One hand grips the back of your head and pulls you closer to his thick cock. He pulls you by your hair, aligning your mouth with the tip of his cock as he forcefully shoves your head down. You nearly gag, pushing against him as he tries to use your mouth. Despite your resistance, Naoya doesn’t seem to care and is chasing his own high using you to get him off. You take him into your mouth, inexperienced but trying to adjust quickly. Naoya gives you barely any time to try and settle within the rhythm he’s created. You basically gag on his cock every time he plunges it slightly deeper than the last, but this only enhances Naoya’s pleasure.

While Naoya’s aggressive use of your mouth is going on, Megumi is taking his time to explore you from behind. His fingers are touching every part of your body he can get to, settling on your ass that he starts to spread apart. He’s entranced by the glistening of your cunt in the light, lost in thought about how lewd you look taking Naoya’s cock while bent over for him like a full course meal. He’s done with his “inspection” and moves one of his slender fingers to your entrance. He slips it in easily, listening to you moan with a cock stuffed in your mouth. Naoya pushes your head down farther along his length, trying to hit the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing in time with his rhythm.

Megumi slips another finger inside, stretching your cunt. “Fuck, ____, I didn’t think you were this tight.” He groans as he starts fucking you with his fingers. The lewd sounds he forces out you vibrate around Naoya’s cock. His other hand is grabbing fistfuls of your hair, face fucking you harder as your dripping cunt takes another of Megumi’s fingers. Megumi picks up pace, bringing another hand to your clit to add extra stimulation, but mostly so he can see you writhe and squirm under him while trying to hold yourself up.

“Will you be a good girl for me and cum, ___?” Megumi coos, stringing you along with his praises. “You look like such a dirty girl right now, already about to cum with just my fingers. So cute.” He finger fucks you harder now, making lewd wet noises as his fingers slam back into your pussy. His other hand is toying with your clit, drawing circles and rubbing the little button to bring you closer to your ecstasy. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach, feeling yourself be pushed over the edge with his fingers alone.

Naoya thrusts into your throat, choking you and momentarily leaving you without air as Megumi pushes you over the edge. You feel your cunt tighten around his fingers as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the lack of air adding to your heightened senses. You moan as you’re cumming, giving just enough sensation to Naoya for him to creampie your throat. His cum is being forced down your throat, yet there’s still so much that some leaks from the corners of your mouth as his cock is pushed against the back of your throat. He finally shows mercy and pulls out as you’re coming down from your high. You force yourself to as much as you can before gasping for air, panting as you trying to calm down again.

“You did a good job taking all of me, slut.” Naoya grins as he lifts your chin with one of his fingers, leaning down to give you a kiss as you share his cum in your mouth. You didn’t think he’d be into some perverted shit like that, yet he’s basically tongue fucking your mouth still full of his cum. He pulls away, a long string of saliva and cum still connecting you two.

Megumi watches you two, his cock throbbing so intensely it almost hurts. He wastes no time in pulling his pants and boxers down before spitting in his hand and lubing his cock up. He’s shuffling behind you, lining himself up with your cunt before he pushes in at full force, giving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock. You let out a yelp, air evacuating your lungs at the surprise intrusion. He’s balls deep near instantly in your tight hole, stretching you open with a cock that is even girthier than Naoya’s.

Naoya is watching you, grinning, and lazily stroking his cock. You have no idea how he’s able to keep going for multiple rounds, only a little bit of time in between. But you don’t care. The man in front of you is irresistibly hot even though his attitude is garbage. You would do anything he asked no matter how degrading it is in hopes that he would manhandle you again. As these thoughts cross your mind, Megumi reels you back into reality as he pushes so deep into your womb you’re sure he probably bruised your cervix.

“Your pussy is amazing, sweetheart. You have no idea… hah.. how long I’ve been wanting this.” Megumi praises you, unable to control his breathy moans as he continues fucking you with full force. One of your arms is pulled to your side, Megumi interlocking fingers and holding your hand as he drills into you. Even in a situation like this, he can’t help but do some cute shit.

His other hand lightly smacks your ass as you whimper in pleasure, unable to hide the fact that you like it a little rough. Megumi lets go of your hand as you feel both his arms snake around your waist, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks you. Your back is to his chest, on full display for Naoya in front of you. His shiteating grin is plastered on his face as he has a front row view of Megumi’s cock sliding in and out of you. He gets up from his seated position to face you. Megumi’s arms are still wrapped around your body, supporting you as he drills into your cunt. You can feel his breath against your neck and hear his soft whimpers in your ear. “You’re doing so well, slut. Such a good girl for me huh?” He whispers into your ear. His words send chills down your spine as he keeps ramming his cock into you, abusing your poor hole.

Naoya moves closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. He kisses you slowly, before aggressively trying to fill your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away, spits on your face, and lightly slaps your face. “You love taking your friend’s cock, huh? Didn’t think it would be that good, did you? Who knew you’d be the family’s fuckdoll.” He chuckles at his degrading joke, but you couldn’t help but internalize his words. You have no idea how you got to be in this situation, but you were definitely not complaining. Something about multiple men of the same family using you how they liked made your cunt drip at the mere thought of it.

Naoya moves his mouth to your neck, leaving little marks on your skin to prove he was there. Little bruises of his lust for you, marking your skin like you’re property. Megumi start pulling out with only the tip left inside, before bottoming out into your cunt. He groans beside you, lost in the addictive pleasure that is you. Megumi was no virgin, but he believed you were the best person he’s ever fucked, your body insanely attractive and your personality catching and reeling him, unable to resist you.

Naoya moves back before bringing a hand to your neck, gripping your throat and momentarily cutting off your oxygen. “Megumi… fuck this bitch harder when I choke her, okay? She fucking loves it.” And he wasn’t wrong, you did love it. He gripped your throat, a smirk planted on his features as he watched you helpless and at his mercy. Some drool started dripping out of your mouth and you could feel your vision starting to haze around the edges. Megumi fucked into you harder, pulling you closer to his body. Naoya let his grip loosen a bit around your throat, enough to allow some air to fill your lungs again.

“I’m close, baby. I’m gonna fill you up okay? Be a good girl and take all of it for me.” Megumi purrs beside you. Naoya takes this moment to strengthen the grip around your throat, cutting off your air. You feel Megumi’s speed pick up, him desperately chasing his orgasm. You can hear his staggered whimpers as he empties his load into your cunt, filling your already full womb even more. Naoya releases his hand from your throat, making you choke and gasp for air. He’s looking down at you with sadistic satisfaction as you struggle to catch your breath.

Megumi pulls out and lets go of your waist, and you plop down onto the bed absolutely fucked out. Naoya is quick to get off the bed and start dressing. He finishes so quickly it’s as if he was speedrunning it (he has done this many, many, MANY times before). He gives you a quick peck on the lips and gently rubs your cheek before starting to walk towards the door. “See you soon, slut,” he says as he walks out, closing the door behind him this time. Megumi returns with a clean towel, gently cleaning you up as you just lay their like a limp fish.

“You did so well for me. Thank you,” he says as he kisses your cheeks and then your lips before pulling away and picking up some clothes for you. He tosses you a simple outfit to wear and begins dressing himself as well. “Ready for dinner? You’re gonna meet the rest of my family now.” You nod your head yes, anticipating who else you’re going to meet.

--

‹𝟹 notes: this was originally suppsed to be a oneshot, but i felt like it was getting too long. i have plans for all of them and wasn't going to be able to execute it in just a oneshot. let me know what y'all think!

feedback is always appreciated!! thank you all!!!

ch 2 (soon)

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

[perotovar]

bloody kisses — part two: i don't wanna be me

pairing: shane morrissey/tim rockford rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 6.6k content: vaguely takes place in the 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, descriptions of a crime scene/injury (bullet wound and head trauma)(not shane or tim), heavy petting, oral (male receiving), protected p in a, discussions of dom/sub and top/bottom, tiny bit of misogyny (shane is ignorant af and it's like 2002 lol), first time bottoming, shane's internal battles, tim being a really fucking good partner, f e e l i n g s, seriously this is sappy y'all, if i missed anything lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @chronically-ghosted (seriously i can't explain how much taylor has helped with this story, go give her some love!)

series summary: shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

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Shane locked himself in his bedroom for three days after the disaster at Tim’s apartment. He’s never felt so stupid in his life. How could he just… kiss him like that? 

Why did he do that?

He thought about that moment constantly, for hours at a time. Tim’s lips, for how briefly they’d touched his own, felt so… correct. They were soft, a little chapped, but warm. It was like things clicked into place for him. He doesn’t remember any kisses with Raven ever feeling like that. Or any girl he’d been with, for that matter. 

He hated himself for how good it felt. Especially because Tim ended it before it ever really began.

Shane wasn’t sure if there was anyone else he could go to about any of this. Legally, he still lived with his mom and her husband in their downtown apartment, but they never saw each other. He basically had his own area of the apartment to himself. His mom and her husband made enough that they didn’t really notice or care what Shane did with his life. He didn’t have any goals, and he guessed that’s why he did petty crimes like he did. He was just so fucking bored.

And now he was dealing with… this. 

He stared at Tim’s business card, his thumb rubbing over the older man’s name. He was curled up on his bed, holding one of his pillows close. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. The bright green text read 2:18am. He sighed to himself and rolled over onto his back.

He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.

Nobody noticed a change in Tim at work. If they did, they were professional enough not to bring it up. He felt fucking awful for how things went down with Shane. He wanted to reciprocate so badly, but Shane was vulnerable and Tim didn’t want to take advantage of him like that.

“Boss, I got those files you needed.”

Tim looked up from his desk, pen still in hand while he filled out the paperwork for a robbery he’d taken care of the day before. He’d thought about Shane and his magazine the entire time. “Thank you,” he grunted, pointing at an empty spot on his desk. “Can just set it there, please.”

The agent set it down and took off, getting back to work.

Tim looked back down at the file he was working on and sighed, losing his focus. He looked over at the phone on his desk and frowned. He didn’t have Shane’s number so he couldn’t call him. He wanted to tell Shane that what happened wasn’t wrong, or even unwanted.

The sound of heavy footsteps brought him out of his thoughts. Matthews, his partner, slammed Tim’s office door open.

“There’s been a shooting!”

Tim furrowed his brows, pushing his thoughts of Shane away for now, and focusing on the task at hand. “Where? Do we know anything else?” He asked, opening the drawer in his desk to put his gun holster on over his shoulders.

“Yeah, it was at a liquor store downtown. We have an idea of who the victim is based on descriptions from the employee working at the time, but not of the shooter,” Matthews answered, handing Tim’s trenchcoat to him. 

The two detectives made their way to Tim’s car and sped off to the crime scene.

“His name is Howard Xavier, and he’s twenty-eight,” Watson, the cop who was in the area, explained. “He’s on his way to the hospital now, but he looks to be in decent condition.”

Tim nodded, eyes looking over the crime scene. Flashes of photos being taken filled the peripheries of his vision. There were bottles of wine and hard liquor crashed everywhere. “Looks like Xavier tried to run from the shooter,” he mumbled, crouching down to look at the dirty boot prints on the linoleum floor.

“Do you think they knew each other?” Matthews asked.

Tim sighed, looking up at his partner before standing again. “Who’s to say?” He shrugged. “Maybe. Do we have any information on any relatives or associates?”

“No family, but we’ve found a couple of friends on file,” Matthews replied. “I think we’ve got them back at the station.”

Tim nodded. “Let’s head back and see what we can find.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tim couldn’t believe his fucking eyes. 

Known Associates: Tracy Wynanski and Shane Morrissey.

This had to have been the coincidence to end all coincidences or Tim had an insane amount of luck. There was a phone number for Tracy, but no address. He stepped out of his office and approached his secretary, an older woman by the name of Dolores.

“Can you get me Shane Morrissey’s file, please?” He asked, voice a little more gruff than he’d intended.

“Of course, sweetie, give me one moment,” Dolores smiled, rolling her chair to the file cabinets. 

Shane’s file in hand, he sat back at his desk and started looking through the files for Howard Xavier again. A bullet wound to the thigh, and blunt force trauma to the head.

He figured it’d be easy to get the professional parts out of the way first and called Tracy, asking if she knew anything about the shooting. She said she didn’t, since her and Howard hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months. She’d gone back home to Philadelphia after a breakup. 

“Thank you, Tracy,” he said. “Do you happen to know Shane Morrissey? He’s one of Howard’s other known associates and I’d like to ask if he knows anything.”

Tracy let out a bitter laugh and said, “Oh, I know Shane. He can kiss my ass for all I care.”

“Ms. Wynanski, please–”

“I don’t have a number for him, but I can tell you where he lives. Not saying he’ll be there, though,” she paused. “Likes to frequent this one house full of his ‘friends’ when he’s not at home moping.”

Tim felt his entire body relax, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath. “That will be very helpful. Thank you, Ms. Wynanski. Do you have the address for the other house?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t go in there like you’re looking for him, though. They’ll all run off.”

“I can handle it. Thank you, Ms Wynanski.”

After confirming that the address Tracy had matched the one they had on file, and wrote down the other address, he called Matthews, who decided to check on Xavier at the hospital.

“He’s stable. He’ll probably stay here for a couple of days,” his partner said through the phone.

“Alright. I’ve got a lead on one of his associates. It’s fucking Morrissey, John,” Tim chuckled.

“You’re shitting me. Employee at the liquor store said Xavier looked like he walked out of the Satanic Temple so I guess I’m not too surprised.”

Tim rolled his eyes and snorted, making one last note on Howard’s file. “I’m gonna head out and look for him. Could you go to one of these addresses for me?”

“Sure thing, Tim. Don’t get trapped in some ritual sacrifice.”

“Fuck off,” Tim laughed.

Tim decided to go to the second house full of Shane’s “friends”. He figured it was more likely that he was there, and he was right. It looked like it was a gathering of about ten or fifteen other kids around Shane’s age, all dressed in similar clothing.

The house was filled with smoke and had music playing, so he decided it was better if he stayed in his car until Shane came outside. He didn’t want to embarrass the kid.

It didn’t take too long, Shane stumbling out of the house and laughing loudly. Tim turned the key, the engine for his Caprice coming to life. Shane startled and looked over, eyes locking with Tim’s behind the wheel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Shane barked, stomping over to the passenger window and glaring at the older man.

“I need your help,” Tim said softly.

Shane rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you fucking stalk me here? You can’t be here– They can’t see me with you.”

“Then get in. They won’t know.” Tim looked up at him, eyes softening when he saw the clear hurt on Shane’s face. He wasn’t very angry by the looks of it. Just upset.

Shane scoffed, looked back at the house, and raised his arms in defeat. “Fine,” he grumbled, opening the passenger side door and sitting down.

“Seatbelt.”

“Eat me, old man,” Shane rolled his eyes. He lifted a leg and rested his chunky boot on the car’s dashboard. 

Tim sighed heavily and didn’t argue. He’ll just clean his car later. “You wanna talk at the station or at my apartment?”

Shane bit his lip, picking at a rip in his jeans and making it worse. “I don’t wanna go to the station.”

“Figured as much,” Tim exhaled, looking behind the car for any oncoming traffic and pulling out of the neighborhood towards his apartment.

Shane stared at Tim’s arms underneath the tight white dress shirt, the fabric pulling at the thick muscle. He wondered what Tim looked like on top of him, those strong arms pinning him to a mattress and–

“You know a Howard Xavier, right?” Tim asked, eyes squinting at the file in his hands. 

The two of them were seated at the table in Tim’s dining room, the surface in front of them covered in documents and files. 

“Yeah, that’s X,” Shane mumbled, picking at his nails so he could hide the pink in his cheeks.

Tim raised a brow but didn’t comment, nodding. “Do you know if he had any enemies, Shane?” He asked, digging his glasses out of his front pocket and putting them on. “That’s better,” he said to himself, the text on the files clearing up.

Shane blinked a couple times, the sight of Tim wearing glasses doing more for him than he thought possible. His breathing picked up a little, heart pounding in his chest when Tim made eye contact with him, waiting for Shane to answer. “U-um, I don’t think so? X was always pretty chill,” he mumbled.

Tim nodded and took notes on a sticky pad. Tim’s phone started ringing, making the older man get up and answer it. “Rockford,” he grunted into the receiver.

Shane stayed seated and kept to himself, listening to the one sided conversation.

“You’re shitting me. He did? Thanks, John. Yeah. You too. Have a good night.”

Tim exhaled and hung up the phone, clicking his pen. “Good news,” he smiled, taking his seat at the table across from Shane. “Xavier woke up and described the shooter. My partner found him.”

Shane nodded, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table. “‘S good,” he mumbled.

Tim watched Shane’s face closely, eyes trailing over the piercings and the messy hair. “I’m sorry I took you away from your party,” he said softly.

“‘S okay. Don’t like those guys very much,” Shane shrugged. Now that he was here, he was having a hard time not curling in on himself again. He couldn’t even look Tim in the eye without thinking about what his lips felt and tasted like.

Tim furrowed his brows. “Why do you hang out with them, then?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to pry, but it was sort of his job to find information. Shane wasn’t a job, though. He was much more than that.

Shane sighed and angrily looked at Tim for a second before looking away again. “Why do you care?”

Tim bit his lip, fiddling with his tie. “You really wanna know, kid?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he rolled his eyes.

“Because I see a lot of myself in you, Shane,” Tim admitted gently, crossing one leg over the other.

Shane furrowed his brows and looked at Tim incredulously.

“It’s true. Would you believe me if I said I got arrested? Was about your age, too.” Tim chuckled as he remembered what caused his arrest.

A small smile grew on Shane’s face. “What’d you do?”

“Public Indecency.”

Shane’s eyes grew three times in size. “Did you get caught having sex? Were you streaking?” He giggled, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Uh, well,” Tim chuckled. “I was in my car at the time and having sex.”

Shane laughed, face as red as a tomato. His thoughts flooded with images of what Tim having sex looked like. What sort of faces did he make? What kind of sounds did he make? Was he more dominant or submissive?

“Were you going down on her or…?”

“Him,” Tim answered easily. “And no, we were uh… I was found on top of him.”

Shane froze, eyes wide. He looked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked back at Tim briefly before settling his eyes on Tim’s tie. “You’re…?” He asked shakily. 

“Yeah, kid,” Tim chuckled. Shane looked terrified and it broke Tim’s heart. “I said I was here for you if you needed me. I still am.”

Shane squeezed his eyes shut and let out a heavy, shaky breath. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans and looked at Tim with wet, glossy eyes. “I don’t– I don’t understand,” he shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t seem–”

“Not every gay person is really flamboyant, Shane.”

Shane blushed in embarrassment. “Why did you turn away from me, then? Why didn’t you kiss me back?” He frowned, voice shaky and hurt.

Tim’s eyes rounded, his whole face becoming softer. “I wanted to,” he admitted, looking down at Shane’s ring-clad hands. “But it wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t… I didn’t want to take advantage of you like that.”

“Take advantage–! I kissed you!” Shane roared.

“You were vulnerable and confused. And,” Tim gulped. “And I’m a lot older than you, it’s… It’s not appropriate.” He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly at how much it hurt to say out loud.

“Tim,” Shane whimpered, biting his lip. He felt a thick lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation right now. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. It felt like he was having an out of body experience. “I don’t care about that, I’m– I’m more worried about you being a cop than being older than me. I’m an adult,” he scoffed, his bottom lip trembling.

Tim couldn’t hold in the chuckle that bubbled out of him. “I know you are. I just don’t– I don’t know how this could continue–”

“Please, shut up,” Shane begged, getting out of his chair and making his way over to Tim. He looked down at the older man, face burning, and slowly crawled into Tim’s lap, wrapping his arms around Tim’s neck. “I don’t wanna talk anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna think anymore. Please.”

Tim’s hands instinctively found their place on Shane’s hips. His eyes moved from Shane’s to the younger man’s lips, then back up. “Are you sure?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumbs into Shane’s hip bones.

“No,” Shane mumbled. “Well, yes, but… No.”

Tim raised a brow and smirked. “How about we take things slow.”

Shane nodded, biting his lip. “Okay.”

Tim smiled and softly connected their lips, caressing Shane’s head, thumb rubbing at his jaw. Shane whimpered quietly as he tentatively kissed back. His lips trembled against Tim’s, soft huffs of air expelling out from between them. He’d kissed before but this was so… different. The feeling of Tim’s facial hair against his lips was weird. Good, but weird. 

Shane experimentally ran his tongue along Tim’s bottom lip. Tim took the hint and softly caressed Shane’s tongue with his own, making the younger man gasp into his mouth. Tim squeezed Shane’s narrow hips, trying to ground him, and sighed into the kiss. It built a little over time, but eventually, they found a rhythm. The soft clinking of metal from Shane’s earrings filled the otherwise silent apartment. They learned each other over the course of their kissing. Tim learned that Shane liked to nibble and bite, and Shane learned that Tim liked to encompass him entirely, like he could devour Shane’s mouth if given the chance.

When Tim pulled away for some much needed air, Shane whined in protest, his face leaning toward Tim’s to keep going. “Slow your roll, kid,” Tim chuckled, pressing his forehead to Shane’s and panting quietly. Shane blushed, and chewed his swollen bottom lip while he waited. “C’mere,” Tim grunted, tugging Shane’s leather duster off his shoulders. Shane went along with it, pulling his arms free before the sound of squeaky leather fell into a heap on the floor. 

Large hands ran over Shane’s hips and waist, but never ventured lower. Shane shivered when Tim’s blunt nails lightly scratched at the exposed skin of his lower back as his t-shirt rode up. Shane’s cock twitched in interest, making him blush high on his cheeks.

“‘s okay, sweetheart,” Tim hummed. He rolled his hips a little, his own half-hard cock rubbing against Shane’s.

Shane’s eyes grew twice their size at the feeling and looked down at the bulge in Tim’s slacks. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. His imagination was a lot easier to handle than the real thing pressing into his inner thigh. 

Tim furrowed his brows in concern and rubbed Shane’s skin underneath his t-shirt comfortingly. “What are you thinking about?” He asked softly.

Shane inhaled heavily, and slowly let out a deep breath before turning his head back toward Tim. He opened his eyes, but didn’t make contact. “Just… weird. Feeling your…”

Tim hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you want to stop?”

Shane shook his head, eyes still burning holes into Tim’s slowly rising and falling tummy. 

“Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop,” Shane whispered.

“Do you want to lie down? There’s no expectation for anything,” Tim said, sitting up a little more in the dining room chair. 

The stretch in Shane’s thighs suddenly overtook any doubts he had, making him shakily get up from Tim’s lap. He was used to having someone sit on his lap like that and being in that position made his stomach hurt.

Tim laced his fingers through Shane’s and gently guided him to his bedroom. He kept the lights low and rubbed his thumb over Shane’s knuckles. “You okay?”

Shane stared at Tim’s bed and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Y-yeah,” he croaked.

Tim chewed on his lip in thought and let go of Shane’s smaller hand. He gave Shane some space as he took off his glasses and removed the tie he was wearing. He toed off his dress shoes and put them in his closet. When he turned around after unbuttoning his dress shirt, Shane was sitting on his bed, hands curled up into fists on his ripped jean-covered thighs.

Tim sighed softly and sat next to him on the bed. “What’s goin�� through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, tugging on pieces of Shane’s hair that were sticking straight out.

Shane shut his eyes and took another deep breath. “I’m just… I’m having a hard time being… like, the female part.” He curled in on himself, his shoulders hiding his ears.

Tim blinked a couple times. “Sweetheart, we’re both men.”

“I-I know that! I just,” he swallowed a lump in his throat. “Usually, I’m in your position. Taking charge.”

“I see,” Tim sighed, getting more comfortable and turning toward him. Shane did the same, but didn’t make eye contact with him. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Shane blushed, those big brown eyes of his lifting up to meet Tim’s. 

“Alright, firstly, who told you there were ‘male’ and ‘female’ roles?” Tim raised a brow.

“W-well, uh–”

“It’s alright, I already know who. Lesson number one,” Tim smiled reassuringly. “Just because you’re sitting on my lap, letting me ‘take charge’, doesn’t mean you’re weak, honey.”

Shane gulped and nodded, taking all of this in. Tim felt like a professor. Probably the first one Shane would ever listen to.

“And women aren’t weak, so get that out of your head, too.”

Shane let out a heavy breath. This was a lot to take in.

“Did you feel good?” Tim asked, picking up one of Shane’s hands and rubbing his thumb over the scabbed knuckles. When Shane nodded jerkily, Tim grinned, his chest feeling warm at the admission. “That’s all that matters. Think of it this way,” he paused. Shane hung onto every word. “Everything we do? It’s with your say-so. You’re driving the car here.”

Shane blinked as he thought about it. He could work with that. “Oh,” he said quietly.

“You want me to make you feel good again?” Tim smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners. Shane’s heart thundered at the sight.

“Y-yes.”

“Go ahead and lay back for me, alright?”

Shane nodded and got comfy, head cradled by Tim’s fluffy pillows. His entire body was buzzing and tense. He kept his eyes on Tim’s popcorn ceiling, the sounds of Tim’s belt jingling filling the room. When the bed dipped with Tim’s weight, Shane’s heart stuttered a little. One of Tim’s big hands cupped his cheek and gently turned his face so he could look at Tim again. Shane wasn’t expecting the softness in Tim’s features, or the heat in his eyes.

Tim rubbed Shane’s cheek with his thumb. “We don’t have to go far tonight. There’s no rush.”

Shane nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

This time, when their lips connected, Shane eased into it a lot sooner, kissing the older man with renewed fervor. He sighed into it, the warmth radiating off of Tim being an endless source of comfort. He gripped onto Tim’s opened dress shirt and tugged it down his shoulders. Tim released Shane’s lips briefly while he shrugged the shirt off and tossed it on the floor. Shane moaned weakly when Tim surged forward and sucked his bottom lip between his own.

Shane’s head was fuzzy, all the blood there rushing down between his legs. He gasped when Tim rolled him over and hovered over him, pressing his hips between Shane’s thighs. Tim took his time with him, kissing him languidly while he unbuckled Shane’s jeans.

“Can I touch you?” Tim breathed between kisses.

Shane nodded quickly, holding the sides of Tim’s head and tangling his fingers in the short, thick locks of Tim’s hair. Tim smiled against the younger man’s lips and pulled Shane’s baggy, ripped jeans off. Shane toed off his own socks before wrapping his legs around Tim’s thick waist. Tim was so much larger than Shane was and it made his head spin.

Tim’s hands played with the bottom of Shane’s t-shirt and slowly lifted it up, bunching under his armpits. He pulled away to look at Shane’s torso and grinned when he saw the small tattoos there. Both hands holding Shane’s sides, he gently rubbed at the younger man’s nipples, making Shane gasp. Goosebumps and flushed skin covered his entire body in seconds, making Shane lightly smack Tim’s shoulder. Tim laughed lightly and softly kissed his way down Shane’s torso until he was eye level with the tent in the younger man’s boxers.

Shane blushed hard, eyes wide. “W-what are you doing?”

Tim raised a brow and tilted his head slightly, tugging on the elastic of Shane’s boxers. “Said I’d make you feel good, sweetheart.”

Shane blinked. “B-but isn’t that…”

“There are no roles. But if you don’t want me to, then–”

“I do!” Shane smacked his hand over his own mouth and shut his eyes, hoping the bed would swallow him whole. 

A wolfish smirk crossed Tim’s features as he lowered his head, kissing along Shane’s pelvis. Shane whimpered at the feeling of Tim’s facial hair across his skin, his body shuddering. “Breathe, sweetheart,” Tim whispered, shutting his eyes to suck gently at Shane’s hip and leaving a mark. 

Shane forced himself to take a deep breath, shutting his eyes to center himself. When he opened his eyes, Tim quirked a brow up at him as he tugged on Shane’s boxers again. Shane nodded his consent and almost groaned at the cool air in the apartment hitting his throbbing cock. Tim hummed appreciatively and didn’t waste a second, kissing the tip, then making his way down the shaft.

Shane moaned openly gripping the sheets of the bed into tight fists. “T-Tim, what–”

“Shh…” Tim whispered, engulfing the head of Shane’s cock in his mouth. He moaned at the taste and watched Shane’s face as he slowly bobbed his head up and down. Shane’s eyes rolled back and arched his back off the bed. 

Shane felt his cheeks throb and the blood rushing in his ears, doing everything in his power to keep his hips down. When his hips bucked up on their own, he moaned weakly, looking at Tim’s face to make sure he didn’t choke him. What he found instead made his cock twitch.

This was one of Tim’s favorite things to do. Making his partner feel good with his mouth was something he always got pleasure out of and Shane was no different. In fact, this was probably one of the more rewarding times, because this was the first time a man had done this for him. He felt good knowing he got to be the first, and a little possessive side of him liked the idea even more.

Eyes shut, Tim moaned around Shane’s length, losing himself in it. He gripped Shane’s hips and rubbed the bones there to soothe him. Shane’s chest rose and fell quickly as he watched. He felt a little embarrassed to admit that this was probably the best head he’d ever received.

Tim opened his eyes, keeping an eye on any changes in Shane’s face. 

Shane felt his balls drawing up, making him moan weakly. “I-I’m gonna–” He cut himself off, gripping the sheets tighter. Tim doubled his efforts, bobbing his head a little faster. “Oh, fuck,” Shane whined, his thighs trembling on either side of Tim’s head.

Tim moved his hands up Shane’s torso and rubbed at the younger man’s nipples again, urging him on.

“W-wait, wait–” Shane gasped, smacking his hand against Tim’s shoulder as the pressure built and built. Tim watched closely and if he could, he’d grin to himself as he watched Shane’s eyes roll back. Shane’s entire body stilled and he came hard, thick ropes of cum shooting down Tim’s throat. Shane’s moans went up three octaves as he shook with pleasure, his toes curling.

Tim swallowed everything and slowly, gently, raised his head. He licked Shane clean, kissing back up his torso. Once he was hovering over Shane again, Tim smiled at the blissed out expression on his face. He chuckled lightly and kissed Shane’s cheek.

“Still with me?”

Shane shivered at the gravelly tone of Tim’s voice. It must be an octave or two lower than normal given what he’d just done. He slowly blinked his eyes open and didn’t have the energy to hold back the smile when he saw Tim’s handsome face. “Yeah, ‘m here,” he mumbled, his body feeling heavy and sated.

“Good. You should get some rest, sweetheart.” Tim’s laugh rumbled in his chest.

Shane pouted, big brown eyes glazed over, but determined. “What about you?”

“I’ll be okay. Get some rest,” Tim said, kissing Shane’s forehead. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked, pulling the material down from where it was bunched up under his armpits.

Shane nodded, watching in awe as Tim took care of him. It was at this moment that Shane realized Tim was completely serious with him. He wouldn’t make fun of him, or use him. Shane felt tears prickling behind his eyes, but quickly blinked them away.

“Be right back, okay? Gonna get you some water,” Tim grunted quietly, crawling off the bed. Shane didn’t have the energy to argue, and just watched Tim’s broad back leave the bedroom.

When Tim returned with the glass of water, he was greeted with the sight of Shane’s sleeping form. He smiled at him, and set the water on the nightstand closest to Shane. 

He got himself undressed, making sure to be careful of his own half-hard cock. Once he was down to his boxer briefs, he crawled into bed behind Shane and held the younger man close. The day caught up with him as he laid there, eyes trailing over the messy curls and multiple piercings in Shane’s ears.

He drifted off quickly, and had a dreamless sleep.

Twitch. Twitch.

Shane groaned in his sleep.

What was that?

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the light. He tried to turn and feel what was poking against his back, but he was held firmly in place by… Were those arms?

Shane’s eyes snapped open as the memories from the night before came flooding back. His cheeks burned as he looked down and saw the strong, very male, hands holding him close to a broad chest. Tim huffed in his sleep, making Shane smile shyly. He couldn’t deny it, being held by Tim felt really good. It was so warm.

He tried rotating in Tim’s arms, silently exhaling in relief when he didn’t seem to wake the older man. He felt the twitching again and looked down between their bodies.

Oh.

Shane smiled at the sight of Tim’s morning wood through his boxer briefs. He looked back up at Tim’s sleeping face and decided against doing anything until he’d woken up. For now, he ran his fingers through the thin layer of chest hair on Tim’s skin. It seemed obvious when he thought about it, but it was so different than when he was with a woman. He didn’t feel like he had to hide with Tim. Tim wouldn’t judge him.

Tim made him feel safe. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

Shane startled and looked up, Tim’s soft smirk and sleepy eyes greeting him. He shook his head in lieu of an answer.

When Tim grumbled in response, it reminded Shane of a bear. 

“Do you want… You need help with that?” Shane asked timidly, pointing between their bodies. Their legs were tangled together and they were touching everywhere. The proximity and the feeling of warmth radiating from between Tim’s legs had Shane throbbing in no time.

Tim snorted and leaned forward, kissing Shane sleepily. Shane moaned into it, grinding his own cock against Tim��s. Tim pulled back and panted a little against Shane’s lips.

“We don’t have to. I’ll be okay–”

Shane cut him off by gripping Tim’s ass and squeezing. When Tim made a small noise of surprise, Shane smirked, attempting to pull Tim onto his own lap. “I want to,” he said, voice determined, but shaky. “I want… I wanna know what it feels like. I have to make sure.”

Tim blinked at him, a little shocked by the sudden change in Shane’s behavior. One of his legs was draped over Shane’s waist as he cupped the younger man’s face. Shane seemed to melt at the gesture, making Tim smirk. “Are you sure?” He asked, brows pinched in concern. He didn’t want Shane to rush into anything. 

“Yes,” Shane nodded.

There was more conviction in that one word than a lot of things Shane had ever said to him, so Tim smiled softly at him. He held onto Shane’s thighs and rolled them over so he was hovering over Shane again, and rubbed the smooth skin comfortingly. “Alright. Lube and condoms are in the top drawer,” he nodded his head toward the nightstand. 

With pink cheeks and a determined expression on his face, Shane reached over and dug out the necessary equipment. Everything really settled in his gut when he was holding everything. This was really going to happen. This wasn’t some dream he’d come up with while he was alone in his bedroom, looking at the cracks and fist-sized holes in his walls.

“C’mere,” Tim grunted, gently taking the items from him and holding Shane’s hip. “Gotta get you prepared, okay? Don’t want it to hurt for you.”

Shane nodded appreciatively and watched as Tim discarded his own underwear, kneeling on the bed between Shane’s thighs. He looked the older man over, eyes raking over the messy, gray curls and pillow creases on Tim’s cheeks. His eyes traveled down over the broad shoulders and chest, and down to the swell of Tim’s stomach. That was probably one of Shane’s favorite parts. His eyes landed on the thick cock between muscled thighs and Shane bit his lip. He had to remind himself not to pinch his arm, because this was real. 

Tim carefully got the condom secured around his cock and drizzled some lube on his fingers. “You ready?” He smiled down at Shane, chest warm at the sight of him. Shane nodded, smiling shyly up at him.

Tim curled his fingers around Shane’s cock and pumped slowly. Shane sighed and shut his eyes, lips parting. Tim couldn’t help himself and surged forward, kissing the younger man deeply. He kept his hand on him, keeping up a decent pace as he teased a finger against Shane’s hole.

Shane’s body jerked at the intrusion, making Tim soothe him gently. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle.”

Shane let out a weak noise and nodded, holding on tight to Tim’s shoulders. He spread his legs a little more and wrapped them around Tim’s waist. 

The first press of one of Tim’s thick fingers inside him already had Shane seeing stars. He panted as he looked down between his legs, trying to see what was happening. Tim cupped his face and forced him to look there instead. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he smiled.

Shane bit his lip and nodded, but gasped soon after as a second finger joined the first. His face twisted into an almost pained expression. Tim watched closely, eyes locked onto him. Tim pumped his fingers in a steady rhythm, searching for that sweet spot inside him. Shane was panting heavily, eyes glossed over, but staying on Tim’s face.

When Shane rolled his eyes back and he gasped, Tim knew he found it. Shane moaned, his cock twitching violently against his lower tummy. “H-hurry up, old man,” he groaned, toes curling on either side of Tim’s hips. “P-please,” he breathed.

Tim snorted, but didn’t argue, removing his fingers gently. Shane groaned at the loss and braced himself for the intrusion, eyes squeezed shut.

“Sweetheart, I need you to breathe first.” Tim leaned over him and kissed him tenderly. He watched as Shane let out one last deep breath and nodded up at him. “Atta boy,” Tim grinned.

Shane scoffed and rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. As Tim lined himself up, Shane’s heart thundered in his chest, watching the focus on Tim’s face mellow out. He had that same facial expression whenever he was interrogating Shane back at the station, or reading through files, or taking notes. But here, with Shane, he seemed to deflate a little. He relaxed. 

The first push in knocked the wind out of Shane. He moaned, digging his nails into Tim’s broad shoulders. Tim hid his face in Shane’s neck and kissed along the younger man’s sleep-soft skin. “Doin’ so good, sweetheart,” he breathed, hips slowly pushing forward.

Shane trembled in Tim’s arms until Tim’s hips were flush against him. Time stopped as Tim settled, letting Shane adjust. Shane had to blink a few times, swallowing around a lump in his throat. All thought left Shane’s head and the only thing left was the sweet stretch of Tim’s cock inside him. Every wall he’d built up was successfully crumbling at his trembling form. 

Tim petted Shane’s sweaty hair out of his face, kissing him on every available patch of skin he could find.

“M-move,” Shane panted, eyes half lidded and glazed over. “Please.”

So Tim did.

He built up a slow, steady rhythm. Before either of them knew it, their bodies rocked together in perfect harmony. Tim hugged Shane closer, his hips being the driving force while his arms kept Shane grounded.

The sounds leaving Shane’s mouth were so unfamiliar to his own ears, he couldn’t even tell where he was for a moment. The only thing he could feel or think about was the stretch of Tim’s cock, Tim’s heavy breathing against his neck, and Tim’s big hands holding his hips. It was all Tim, Tim, Tim.

He didn’t even feel the tear slowly falling down the side of his face until Tim gently wiped it away. He nearly sobbed when Tim kissed him, chest hitching with every powerful thrust. 

Tim grunted every time Shane clenched around him. He was so tight, which he expected, but he was having a hard time keeping a steady rhythm. He was still tired and his body was trying to catch up. He watched the younger man’s face twist in pleasure and sped up a little, moaning down at him.

Shane wailed, one fist curling up tight and weakly hitting against Tim’s chest. “I-I’m close,” he panted, his cock dripping pre-cum onto his stomach. “T-Tim, I’m–”

“‘s okay, I’m here,” Tim groaned, curling his fingers around the younger man’s cock. He started pumping his fist in time with his thrusts, eyes glued to Shane’s face.

Shane nodded furiously, scratching his nails down Tim’s chest. Not long after that, his entire body shook like a leaf and he clenched hard around Tim’s cock, coming in waves. He moaned out loud, his back arching off the bed, and gasping for air.

Tim’s own eyes rolled back as Shane squeezed around him. Shane’s face was turned into the pillow as he breathed heavily, coming down from such a high peak. Tim slowed down some, letting Shane have a moment.

When Shane made eye contact with him again, Tim’s heart stopped. He didn’t think Shane had looked more beautiful than he had right in that moment. His hair was a mess, his face was blotchy and red, there were tear tracks down his cheeks, and his lips were swollen from all the biting. Tim was pulled out of the fantasy when Shane clenched around him again, making a moan bubble out of him.

“C’mon, old man,” Shane smirked, voice tired.

Tim huffed a laugh and hugged Shane close, hips snapping quicker now. Chasing his own release, he hid his face in Shane’s neck, sucking a dark mark against the younger man’s collarbone.

In just a few short, quick thrusts, Tim was following Shane over that ledge with a deep groan, emptying inside the condom.

Shane exhaled deeply, arms wrapped around him. Then, he giggled quietly. He was elated, he was on cloud nine.

Tim lifted his head, hair sticking up every which way. He raised a brow at the younger man and smirked. “You alright?” He chuckled.

Shane nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” Tim grunted, slowly moving out from between Shane’s legs to dispose of the condom. He crawled back into bed and cuddled close, kissing Shane lazily. They both sighed into it. Eventually, they had to come up for air, and when they did, Tim breathed, “You hungry? I’m hungry.”

“God, yes. I’m fucking starving,” Shane groaned.

Tim laughed and rolled his eyes and pressed a light kiss to Shane’s lips. “You like pancakes? I make some really good pancakes.”

Shane giggled, feeling lighter than he had in years.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 9 (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; fainting; regurgitating profusely; nausea; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; extreme feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; therapy; mentions of EMDR therapy; prenatal visits; arguing/raising of voices; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; hemoglobin kits mentioned; emergency room visit and all that might entail (e.r. visit is a longer one, so strap in); revisited, vivid memories of sex; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk; looooots of baby talk; pregnancy hormones (and this is nothing compared to what's to come - that's all i'll say); reader still being sad while she checks Jake out; oh! and Joshua Michael Kiszka being the perfect angel he is <3 (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 32.6k+ (what the actual-?)

a/n: hi my lovely readers <333 i am deeply apologetic for the time you waited to receive this chapter, but i hope the length (holy fucking shit, btw) will make up for it. i really will try my damndest to not take almost a month next time.....

BUT, as you guys have learned, my chapters are very rarely "short" in length, so you can rest assured i'm quite literally busting ass trying to write the chapters in the near-month span of time between updates. lol <3 (while also doing real-time life w a job and family to tend to every single day)

this story is my baby that has been outlined for months in a google doc and i refuse to release chapters until they're completed with everything i deem necessary to include. i promise it's all for the good of the story and for the ultimate enjoyment of the readers (you!). <3 i'm never purposefully leaving you hangin', babes <3 ily all more than i'll ever be able to properly express. 🫶🏻

special shout out to my sis for being my go-to beta, ear, advice-giver, helper, AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN when it comes to all of the silly little stories i write. @joshym. you are my favorite. you know that. and i love you. so fucking much. forever the daniel to my samuel :)

and another shoutout to my wonderful pal @welightthefire - GOD, i love you. y'all, this lady has been my main source for all things baby related and i'd be hurting without her help on alllll things baby and pregnancy. <3 babe, you are the bomb and you better KNOW IT.

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (fr, i listen to it nonstop when i write this.... all of the songs are pertinent to the story and aid in telling it - either already or eventually.)

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

“The covetous person is full of fear; and he or she will who lives in fear will ever be a slave.”

-Horace

-🌼🌼🌼-

Your stomach dipped all the way to the heels of your feet, your body feeling a rush of equal parts cold and hot. 

There were no words spoken for several moments, and almost as soon as you’d said it, Josh had turned to face the front. Jaw clenched tighter than you’d ever seen it, he put the car in drive as his hands wrapped tightly around the wheel – 10 and 2. His back was ramrod straight and his jaw didn’t stop flexing as you swiveled to sit to look out the windshield alongside him.

Your stomach was churning— for multiple reasons. On top of the anxiety in the moment, you also hadn’t been eating much as of late. Your appetite was almost nothing — save for pickles and Cosmic-fucking-Brownies. 

It had blossomed seemingly out of nowhere. 

After your night of Mac and Cheese with Jake, you had started borderline craving it afterwards—alongside the brownies and pickles. But, when you’d made some for yourself, you came to realize, with the first bite to your mouth. . . That Mac and Cheese was no longer your friend. 

Although, it had made very close friends with the toilet, as you’d bent over it hurling until every last bit of the yellow food deposited in front of your sweaty face.  

Surprisingly, you’d still been hungry after puking. . . but unfortunately, everything else you’d tried to eat either ended up in the toilet or in the trash from the smell alone. 

And, to your utter demise, Cosmic Brownies had been ruined that day, too. Their contents eventually met the toilet when you’d tried to snack on one that same evening to fill your empty stomach.

Suffice to say, the nausea had started to kick your ass and this particularly tense situation was doing you no favors.

All you could do was steal glances at him, awkwardly, for the thirty or so minutes it took to get to the women’s clinic. He wasn’t talking at all which was so unlike Josh. You’d never gone this long being in the same space as him where he wasn’t talking. The man loved to talk. And you loved to listen and engage.

But that was not the energy that was transpiring between you two.

You would have normally put on music to fill the hollow, painfully silent space. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to move, much less put on music that would just add to the discomfort that you’d created with your confession. And, honestly, it felt like you were already making too much noise every time you took a deep breath. 

Besides stealing the occasional peek at him, you watched the multiple semis that passed you, and the forests that lined the highway, full of leaves with changing colors. 

And Josh just drove. Just fucking drove. And, even worse, he drove normally. Better than normal, actually. Unlike ever before, he was following the highway’s speed limit, all while not getting emotional anytime someone pulled an asshole move on the road. 

He seemed to be putting every bit of his energy into three things: focusing on the road, keeping his jaw clenched tight, and not moving his hands from 10 and 2 unless he had to look over his shoulder to switch lanes.

Once you pulled up to parallel park on a busier street in SoHo, you’d made up your mind to tell Josh to just drive back and that you could hitch a ride with an Uber. 

You didn’t want to make him feel any more uncomfortable than he apparently already felt. 

For one, he didn’t need to be here if he didn’t want to be. And secondly, you couldn’t fucking handle any more right now. The whole point of him being with you was because you were already fucking stressed before you’d ever even told him. And at this point, it seemed you’d been correct in your assumption of him being angry. 

But right now, his reaction didn’t fucking matter. This appointment mattered. Your baby mattered. You needed to be in some sort of decent mind space before you stepped foot into the place. And whether or not that included him was relative to his response when you informed him of this.

You breathed in and out heavily, shutting your eyes as you did so. Once you opened them, you pressed the unlock button on your door, signaling to him that you were ready to get the show on the road. You didn’t have time to fucking sit here and let him sulk. 

Releasing a deep breath once more, you finally turned to look at him once you’d unbuckled. Then, once facing him, you mustered the firmest tone possible at that moment. “Josh,” you started, sharply. He blinked slowly and flexed the muscle in his jaw once more before he turned to make eye contact with you. 

Fuck. His eyes. . . Was he angry? Sad? Indifferent? You couldn’t fucking tell. You’d never seen him so guarded. God, you shouldn’t have invited him to this. You really had started to hope that he would react more like Elsie and Gia thought he would. 

But he hadn’t, and you were faced with whatever the fuck this attitude was that he had chosen to wear. 

Once it was obvious he was going to look at you as you spoke, you continued. “You don’t have to go in there with me,” you began, firm yet empathetic. “I won’t make you. I will go in on my own. I have to. For my own reasons, I have to keep this appointment today. But you don’t have to come in if you would rather not,” you stated, steady and sure. He was free to fucking leave if he wanted. “You can fucking leave. I will not make you go in if you’re angry or upset or uncomfortable. I’ll get a damn Uber and you can drive back to the complex to get your car.”

He seemed to come back to the present, blinking several times and shaking his head. He rubbed one hand down his face, just as Jake did when he would get stressed. 

The similar reaction made your tummy feel fuzzy and desperate for the security you needed at the moment. You needed someone right now. Even if you were willing to do this on your own (which you were), you could really use his support at the moment. 

You unlocked the doors once more, making sure they were ready to go before you reached for the handle. 

Resolutely, you looked over your shoulder before you addressed him once more. “I’m sorry that I made you angr—.”

“I’m not angry,” he finally said softly. After clearing his throat to talk properly again after not talking for so long, he continued. “I’m shocked and— I’m just feeling a lot of things,” he iterated, his eyes begging you to understand. And, you did. “But I am honored that you wanted me to come with you today,” he said, his face transforming to once again show you your Josh. He was back. Grabbing your hand, he finished his thought. “And I would love to go to this appointment with you.”

The tears that filled your eyes and trailed down your cheeks one by one couldn’t be helped. 

“I couldn’t have done this today without you,” you said, voice cracking with emotion. You popped the glovebox to get a napkin to wipe your face, not looking at him as you kept on. “I’ve been so scared for this, and the only person— besides Elsie— that I wanted here with me, was you.”

He reached over to hold your hand, and you tucked the napkin into your lap for backup when you caught his eye again. Before he spoke again, one tear escaped his eye. With one hand lightly squeezing yours, the other dashed up to wipe at the new wetness under his eye. 

Then, after shaking his head, he raised a curious eyebrow to address you. “Wait,” he said wetly before clearing his throat. “Is this your first appointment?”

“Yes,” you blinked, a blush skirting over your cheeks. “I’ve been in denial of it all until super recently.” You sniffed, feeling a couple more tears escape your eye at the topic of conversation and finally talking to Josh about it. It was, admittedly, a lot. “It took me a hot fucking second to come to terms with all of it, so I’m just now at the first appointment.”

He nodded, brows still furrowed as he looked down briefly before finding your eyes again. “How far along are you?”

“I think I’m technically like eleven-ish weeks,” you replied, doing quick math in your head. “I would need to look at my app to give you an exact number. Normally I have it right at the front of my brain, but my nerves are fucking wracked right now,” you bashfully swept your eyes over your hands, interlocked on the armrest. “For obvious reasons.”

You heard him hum and took that as your sign to look at him again. He was watching you carefully, quizzically. His eyes squinted as you, yet again, flushed under his stare. 

“What?!” You hastily spit out, nervous. 

“Does he. . .?”

Knowing exactly what he was asking, you quickly shut down his train of thought. “Jake doesn’t know,” you informed him, tucking your chin as you quietly repeated yourself. “He doesn’t know.”

“Alright,” he responded, not questioning you in the slightest. Your eyes flashed up to meet his: the color of cocoa and sparkling. “Does Elsie?”

Without any words, you gave him a look that answered his pondering thoughts. 

He chuckled, and you joined him by huffing a little laugh, just under your breath. You felt your cheeks loosen with an easy smile. Your shoulders were relaxing more and more by the second. The familiar, natural sense of joviality with him was settling your frazzled nerves.

You eyed the clock on the dashboard and suddenly realized that you were cutting it very close to your appointment time, with no more than a few minutes to spare before you would be running late. 

Sensing your sudden shift in mood, he took the keys out of the ignition just as you unlocked the doors once again, and opened yours. 

“Let’s go inside,” he encouraged, mimicking your action as he opened his own door behind your turned back. 

When you were out of the car, and waiting (sort of) patiently on the sidewalk for him, you physically shook out some of the anxiety that had made home in your bones for the last several months. 

He officially knew that you’d had sex with Jake. He knew that now. And he knew that it had resulted in a baby. He knew enough for now.

And it actually seemed like things were going to be okay. Maybe Elsie had been right all along (though you’d never tell her that).

Your thoughts were affirmed when he came up beside you, pulling you into a hug as soon as he was at your side. A full-on Josh hug: arms wrapped securely around your shoulders. You did your best to hold back tears, so as not to soil his stark white sweatshirt.

Pulling away before you could let any inevitable tears take over, you looked up at him to see his dimple, present in his cheek. You couldn’t help the single tear that trickled down your cheek at the overwhelming feeling of normality. He was warm. He was real. He was Josh. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to him once more before taking your hand in his and wrapping it up tightly. 

Peeking up at him through wet lashes, you saw his face was still turned up in his signature grin, his eyes, slightly playful as he gave you a knowing look he’d given you a thousand times before. 

“You’ve got this, mama,” he reassured with a wink, opening the door to the clinic for you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The place was fucking amazing. The pictures you’d seen on its website hadn’t done it justice at all. The environment was trendy and relaxing and comfortable. Soft music, similar to that of a lullaby played in the open space, only illuminated by the natural light of the day. No overbearing fluorescent bulbs.

Thank God.

As you made your way to the front desk, you decided to let go of Josh’s hand. 

For some reason, it just felt right to do this on your own. Felt right to make this stride on your own. You could handle the front desk.

“You go sit down,” you offered, motioning to the couches that filtered the chic waiting room. “I think I can do this part.” 

“You sure?” He asked, brows dipping to show his genuine concern. “I’m with you every step of the way. I mean it.”

Your eyes drew wet at the words, but you sniffled and cleared the emotion from your throat when you went to grab his arm through the soft white material of his sweatshirt. “I love you so much for that. I can’t even tell you, Josh,” you told him, a tear escaping despite your efforts. “But I’ve gotta take this step on my own.”

He nodded, needing no further explanation. “I’m over here if you need me,” he threw a thumb at the couches behind him. 

You watched as he walked to the couch nearest to the front desk, sitting comfortably on the blush pink velvet that covered it. You tipped your head at him once, showing him and yourself that you were starting your trek to the counter. 

Once there, you were greeted by the kind smile of a woman most likely in her fifties or sixties, her thick black-framed glasses taking up more than half of her face. Her tanned complexion was flawless and her lips were full with red lipstick as she stretched them over perfectly white teeth. Her jet-black hair was half-up, half-down, haphazardly thrown up with a claw clip, but looking flawless nonetheless. 

She matched the modish aesthetic of the clinic to a T. 

“Hi, babe,” she cheerily greeted you with an out-of-place Southern accent in SoHo, her voice still low to keep the room quiet. “You have an appointment today?”

You froze. The reality of it all suddenly came barreling towards you.

Fuck. Shit. Yes. I do have an appointment today. I’m pregnant. I’m standing here, waiting for an appointment because I’m fucking pregnant.

Dammit. What the fuck? I’m. . .?

You standing here suddenly seemed completely astronomical and unreal– was this truly what life was for you now? While thinking about it nonstop, you’d also not been thinking about it to the extent that it would’ve taken for all of this change to click. This was real. Real life. 

You were carrying a human child. 

And you were at your first appointment for it.

Goddamn.

Blinking several times, you tried to keep your grounding firm as your eyes traced her features a thousand times– searching your suddenly static-filled brain for the most simple word in the English language. 

“Y-y-y–,” you shut your eyes tightly to reset. Come on, y/n. You’ve got this. It’s just one word. 

But you suddenly weren’t sure if you ‘had this’. Your hands began to shake uncontrollably at your sides; you wiped them repeatedly on your leggings. 

But before you could moisten the fabric covering your thighs completely, you went to place them on the counter, touching your current surroundings to center yourself. To hold on to what was real. 

Gia would be so proud.

But then your brain raced right back to the true reality of it all. The reason you were freaking out in the first place was because of the real you couldn’t escape–not that you wanted to, by any means. . .right?! You wanted this. You wanted this. 

You DO want this, y/n. Deep breaths.

The voice sounded so eerily similar to your therapist’s that it helped you to grasp onto a flicker of stabilization. 

This reality was not new. You’d known it was real. You had known there was (probably—hopefully) a kid in you for the past few weeks. And being in this place didn’t make that anymore different than before— minutes before when you’d stepped through the door of the clinic. 

Then you’d walked up to the counter and had one simple question asked of you.

You shook your head once more before blinking open your suddenly-wet eyes. 

But you couldn’t look up from the floor. From your high-top, white Chuck Taylors, now off-white and stained from years of wear. 

And swirling before your eyes in ways they shouldn’t be from the amount of nerves encapsulating your brain. . . Your stomach was rolling.

All of a sudden, you felt a familiar arm wrap around your trembling shoulders, strongly holding you to his chest to keep you stable. The cologne that came from the person, along with the overwhelming rush of relief that came with his presence was a dead giveaway for your new company.

Everything settled.

“Yes,” Josh stated, clearly, for you. “Yes, it’s her first appointment. Y/n? Y/l/n?”

A couple of beats and a few clicks from a mouse followed his words. Then you heard a clipboard clack lightly against the counter and a pen getting clicked open before she sat it on top of the board. 

“Whenever she’s ready,” her voice assuredly spoke, so soft and warm. “I’ll get y’all back there when the time feels right.”

You’d effectively curled tighter into Josh before you looked back up at the sweet lady, meeting her eyes with embarrassment laced through every feature on your face. The muscles in your jaw relaxed when you met her eyes, finally speaking. 

“Thank you,” you muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

She tilted her head at you, sending an understanding wink your way. “No need to apologize, sweet pea,” she calmly hushed, her voice sounding reminiscent of any old Southern woman you’d ever seen in a movie. “It’s a whole lot to deal with. We get it.”

Your lips quivered up into a small smile, eyes watery. “That means a lot,” you sputtered, fresh tears making their way to your jaw. 

Dear fucking God. The tears had to stop at some point. You’d always been a crier, but these motherfucking hormones were just bringing out the absolute most. Pulling out all of the stops. Your emotions, pre-pregnancy, were already shaky, at best. . . and they were apparently just getting progressively worse with the damned baby hormones.

The anxiety was understandable. But the crying? It was almost nonstop. And it was getting old already. 

Though, you knew–you knew–that it wasn’t even fucking close to being over. If everything today went accordingly and you officially found out there was a whole ass baby growing inside of you, you knew that this spike in emotions was only the beginning. 

Sharing one more smile with the lady behind the desk, you walked with Josh back to the waiting room couch he’d been occupying prior to your blessed meltdown. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Unashamedly, you let Josh fill out all of the paperwork. You were still tense and uneasy, but the way you’d handled answering the questions, with him right by your side helped more than you’d intended it to. The process had just been an easy ebb and flow, answering basic questions about yourself. 

And questions about Jake—but Josh answered those with zero problems. Basic Father-Of-The-Child shit that Josh could ramble off in his sleep. You couldn’t help peering over his shoulder as he answered those. You couldn’t explain the intrigue— you just thought it funny seeing him answer questions about his twin. . . Like it was nothing. 

Then came questions about your menstrual cycle. Which were not your favorite to have Josh write the answers to— but you didn’t want to put pen to paper, so you continued to let him write even those, too.

The rest of the process went easily. He’d rattle off a question, and you’d answer it. That was how it’d gone for roughly thirty minutes. 

He’d clicked his tongue, drawing a line down the section about past pregnancies. And then he’d come to a question that made him give you a look. He had one eyebrow raised as soon as he’d read through the last question. 

The last question. The last question that had been slightly unwelcome and less than wonderful to have him fill in for you. 

You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of it being on the sheet. Your mind had been too focused on other things for the past several days. Like hopelessly depressing scenarios involving your baby’s wellbeing and telling people and eating fucking pickles. . . you just hadn’t really given much weight to possible questions on this initial patient questionnaire. 

You pulled your body back slightly, your own face morphing to one that mirrored his. “What?”

“The last question— they want to know if you’re sexually—,” he cleared his throat, shaking his head once before before continuing. “If you’re sexually active.”

You blushed deep crimson—your cheeks, flaming hot. You knew exactly where his mind went because it was where yours went with the question. 

Are you still having sex with Jake?

You coughed briefly, clearing the awkward air before you responded. “No,” you divulged, your eyes flitting up to his: big, wondering and deep chocolate. “No. We’re not— fuck. I’m not. I’m not having sex. I don’t know if he is,” you rambled, bringing a hand up to slap your forehead. Your heart rate even accelerated the slightest bit, hurting your chest. What in the fuck? That's unnecessary. It’s one question, y/n. Quit being nervous—there’s no need. “But—I’m not having sex. Not sexually active, no.”

Josh brought your hand away from your head, which was suddenly breaking out in a cold sweat. You found his eyes: open and willing to listen and understand. Your heart rate slowed considerably at his expression. “It’s okay, y/n. Either way, I don’t care. It’s your life.”

You blinked away more tears—god, fuck. Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply nodded in response. The response was what you’d needed to hear from the beginning. Would things be different if you’d heard those words from him at the beginning of all of this? 

It was no use to imagine. You hadn’t heard his affirmation before now, and at this point, it was officially too late. You’d hurt Jake. Jake had moved on and proved to you that you really weren’t that important to him.

And, the sad truth: even if Josh was okay with it, you had plenty more reasons to keep your title with Jake strictly roommate—friend at most. 

Also, officially, the mother of his child.

Clasping your hands over your tummy, you watched as he checked the “no” box. Then, you watched his eyes scan the sheet quickly to check for any missed questions, clicking his tongue against his teeth all the while.

Thankfully, it seemed you’d successfully answered all of them when he got up to walk the sheet back to the counter for you, where a nurse now occupied the seat, you’d observed. Scrubs, making that apparent.

You had been too busy spacing out on the many questions Josh had asked of you, per the sheets. You hadn’t the mind to pay attention to where the receptionist had gone.

Josh came back over to you shortly to get your driver’s license from you, along with your insurance card. 

“They’ll need these on file,” he said, flashing both at you once you’d given them to him. He brought them back after they’d scanned them into the system, but went up to the counter to answer any questions they may've had as you waited on the couch. 

He was seriously the best. You, proving to be completely useless, didn’t hinder him from being the most incredible friend whilst you sat, doing nothing. 

Before too long, once (you assumed) the general information from the sheet had been entered in the system, you heard your name called from the door to the side of the desk, and you were steadily ushered to the back by a nurse. (With Josh in tow, of course. He wasn’t going anywhere.)

“Nice day outside?” The young nurse, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, asked politely, as you stepped off the scale she’d weighed you on. 

“Yeah,” you responded, glancing over your shoulder at Josh. “Nice fall day. But a little warmer than we like it, huh, Josh?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes,” he responded. “Definitely not enjoying my choice of clothing today. . . Not the day for a sweater, I’ll say.”

The nurse hummed, taking in the information as she grabbed a cup from the counter with your first initial and last name on it. “How long have you guys been together?” She addressed you once with a smile, looking between the two of you with a twinkle in her eye. 

You didn’t mean to squawk with a laugh. 

But thankfully you didn’t have to worry about it because Josh did, too. 

The laugh was, once again, exactly what you needed to calm you down. Your shoulders, still releasing their tension from earlier, became more and more relaxed with each giggle you released. Josh was holding his mouth and shaking his head, his smiling eyes closed while you answered the question. 

“We’re not together,” you explained, the laughter dying down as you caught the nurse’s wide eyes sympathetically. “He’s my best friend. Dating my sister, actually.”

“Oh,” she grinned shakily, eyes jumping back and forth between the two of you. “You both just–he’s here with you today—and you two just seem to fit so well together.”

You smirked, throwing a sideways glance at Josh who was watching the woman with the same sympathetic gaze as you. He must’ve sensed your staring, though, because he quickly threw a look your way. 

He winked at you before adding in his two cents. “I mean, you weren’t wrong. We do mesh incredibly well, but her sister’s had my heart for a helluva a long time. However, I am the uncle,” he informed her, pointing to himself before throwing the same pointer at your tummy. 

It made your heart flutter a thousand beats per minute at hearing him say, for the first time, that he’s the uncle. Josh being bound by blood to the little bean growing within you is another reason you feel assured in your decision to keep it. It’s part of Jake, and part of your closest confidant (aside from Elsie) for years. You’ve obviously thought about it plenty of times before now, but finally hearing Josh acknowledge it was something your heart desperately needed.

“My brother is the father. I’m just her best friend–don’t know what he is to her, though," he finished.

Your eyes widened as you were still getting used to hearing Jake being referred to as the father out loud. . .

Better get fucking used to it, though–nothing you could do about it. 

You also weren’t sure what to make of Josh’s last statement–was he still upset with you that he didn’t know anything about Jake’s role in your life? The inflection in his tone sounded a bit more sneering than you would have liked.

Whenever she spoke next, you were able to snap out of it, recovering quickly.

“Whoa,” she said, blowing out a breath. “That’s. . . wow.” Shaking her head, she looked at the cup in her hand, handing it over to you before she continued. She seemed to be done with the conversation, and ready to get back to the task at hand. “Every woman that comes in for her first appointment gets her blood drawn and urinates in a cup,” she motions to the plastic container she’d handed over to you, then taps at her arm as she watches you carefully for her next spiel. “We draw the blood so we can use it to identify your blood type and to look for other conditions we may have to monitor or treat during your pregnancy.”

Damn. That was a hell ton of information. What do I even make of all of that?

It was your turn to just stare blankly at her and offer a simple okay before she was pointing to the room with the open door, across the hallway, for Josh.

“You can wait in that room for her,” she stretched a little half smile over her delicate features. “She will be there shortly.”

He gave you two thumbs up and a reassuring grin before going in the direction she’d told him. Then she was leading you to the nearest bathroom so you could pee in your fucking cup. After giving you a few instructions, along with a sterile wipe, and informing you on how to get an uncontaminated urine sample, she was letting you in to the single-person restroom. 

It definitely matched the trendy environment of the rest of the clinic and was cleaner than probably any other public restroom you’d ever been inside. You did exactly as she’d instructed and made your business quick before handing off the sample to the same nurse from before. She sat it in a window where someone behind immediately grabbed it. 

“Going off to the lab,” she half-smiled, but quickly tipped her finger to signal you to follow her further down the hallway. “Now I’m going to draw some blood real fast, and then you’ll be free to go wait for the doctor in your room.”

Sitting in a chair in a room towards the back, a couple of other nurses went about their business as your nurse cleaned your arm, using a cotton ball with her now-gloved hands. 

“Does getting your blood drawn freak you out?” She apprehensively questioned before she went to insert the needle. “Or these?” She wiggled the needle in the air to emphasize.

You shook your head, pursing your lips. “For some reason, those are two things I’m totally fine with,” you spoke, your voice tilting up at the end. “I don’t know why they don’t freak me out—everything else fucking does.”

God, shut the fuck up, y/n. Let her do her job.

The blonde gave you an odd look, as if you’d spoken too much for her taste. 

And that pissed you off. You no longer felt bad for talking too much. 

You fucking asked me, bitch.

Thankfully, you were able to get rid of her in minutes-time. As soon as she’d bandaged your arm over a cotton ball, she pointed you to the room she’d sent Josh. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled with a small, semi-annoyed smile before making your way to the room where Josh waited. 

His eyes were huge when you made your way into the small exam room. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “You’ve got it cut the fuck out for you, huh?”

You gave him a look that said Seriously? and rolled your eyes. “Duh, Josh,” you replied, taking in the small room with pretty pictures of babies all over the walls. “I kind of already knew that. Since I am the one carrying the fuckin’ baby and all.”

God, that was harsh, y/n. He doesn’t deserve your anger like that.

Both of his hands went up to guard him as he crossed one leg over the other. “Jesus, y/n,” he sighed, eyes huge. “Give me a damn break. I didn’t even know until today that you were pregnant. Didn't fully know any of it. It’s a lot for a guy, I guess.”

“Damn, I’m so sorry that it’s so much for you as a man, Josh,” you scowled, your voice not hiding any of your irritation with him for his last comment. 

Seriously, y/n?

To be fair, as amazing as Josh truly was, he was still a man— and half of the time men didn’t know their heads from their assholes. Didn’t ever know the proper times to say stupid shit. (Or, to not say it at all.) 

You had to put it in perspective, though . . .because you kind of sucked at saying ridiculous shit, too. So you could only get so angry with him.

“That was a stupid thing to say,” he admitted. “Sorry.”

You tried to laugh it off. You didn’t want there to be unnecessary tension right now—it was the very last thing you needed. “It’s fine,” you encouraged. 

You propped yourself to sit the best you could on the edge of the beige-matted table. The thin paper that covered it crinkled underneath you– made you feel like you were making way too much noise for the tiny room.

“I’m sorry for being short. I need you. For multiple reasons. But right now. . .I just need you to be with me when I find out if this bean actually exists in my loins. . . If I’ve been imagining it the whole fucking time, or if I’ve lost it. . .,” you swallowed. You had to blink back the tears gathering in your eyes as you trailed off at the dreaded possibility. “I just need you to see with me if there’s anything sad to be seen,” you added, voice suddenly wet. 

“Hey,” Josh spoke, softly. “Look at me.”

You swiveled to do as he said. The attempt to not cry was useless. The tears were drenching your cheeks. The fear that had settled so deeply in your bones since the day you’d heard that podcast was coming to light, as you’d just uttered the worries aloud for the first time. 

Barely seeing Josh through the wetness that clouded your vision, you replied the best you could, albeit extremely pathetically. “Yeah?” 

“Why are you worried about those things?” He asked, so quietly, eyes gleaming to bring light. Grabbing your hands, his eyes became suspicious slits when he addressed his next question. “Y/n. . . Have you given yourself any time to feel excited about this appointment? Or have you just focused on the anxiety you’ve built up, surrounding today?”

You bowed your head out of embarrassment. “I’ve been excited, Josh. . .,” you muttered, completely aware of the lie. 

“Mmm,” he responded, rubbing his chin with one hand as the other still grasped both of yours, sure and comforting. “I suspect that’s untrue. . . I know you, my love.”

Gasping on a sob, you closed your eyes to stop crying, covering your face with your hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, squeezing your hands, down and away from your face. He held them still with one of his own, the other helping to slide his chair closer to you. “Don’t you dare be sorry, mama— there’s no reason. This is just the beginning; you’ve got plenty more opportunities to be excited. . . I’m sure plenty of women get worried before this first appointment. There’s a lot up in the air before the first time you see the little thing on the screen.”

You opened your eyes to look at him. And though they were still wet, nothing else was coming from your ducts— thank god. “Yeah?” You asked, desperate to know he actually might understand, tone begging him to tell you you’re not crazy. “You think?”

He nodded with his lips pursed, his new mustache squiggly with the action; his brows, tied together, and eyes, serious. “Oh, yes. I know it. You are not alone, love,” he reassured you, helping your heart rate slow to normal for the millionth time that day. “But that’s why I hope every single one of those women has a person who is there for them on days like today.” He paused, setting his eyes firmly on you before continuing. “Because, today, we are going to discover and conquer whatever we find out from that screen—,” he tilted his forehead toward the monitor screen, “Together.”

Your eyes welled, lip sticking out with a pout. God, you loved him. You truly couldn’t have done today without him. “I really need a hug from you.” 

Without question, he was up and out of his seat, wrapping his arms snugly around you. You tucked your nose into his neck, breathing in his cologne— the familiar smell of his patchouli exactly what you needed to feel secure in the moment. 

You were busy focusing on his breathing, in and out, in and out, when the door received a knock and creaked open behind his back. He must’ve heard, too, and moved away from hugging you and back to his seat as you both watched for the doctor to walk through the door.

But the only person you saw was. . . the receptionist? What was she doing in—? 

“I’m Dr. Rose,” the beautiful lady—who was a doctor apparently, not a receptionist—greeted you with that same, thick Southern accent. “It’s nice to see you doin’ better since I last saw ya, babygirl.”

You blinked several times, feeling immediately at ease with the familiar face. “You’re a doctor? Not a receptionist?”

God, stupid, y/n. Duh. She just said that, you moron.

She chuckled. “Yes ma’am,” she replied, as she clicked on every button on the monitor needed to complete the appointment. Afterwards, as things whirred to life, she went to open the laptop she’d carried in with her, sitting atop the counter. “I’m your doctor, sweet cakes,” she twanged in her western tone. “I’ll be with y’all until the very end of this wonderful journey we call pregnancy.”

You grinned, appreciative of the fact that you were already familiar with her—even if it was from the tiniest interaction earlier. But you couldn’t hold onto that feeling for too long before you got nervous of the impression you’d made earlier with your anxiety attack (or whatever the hell that’d been). 

With concerned brows, you cleared your throat before offering up some words of your own. “I’m so sorry that the first time you met me I was acting like a basket case,” you apologized, extremely self conscious. Crossing your legs tighter, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. When that still hadn’t been enough to contain the nervous energy, you let your hands rest on your belly. 

Tapping away at the small bump, skin tight under your sweater, you waited for her response. 

She gave you a look that immediately eased you. Her brow, raised, and beautiful red lips quirked up in a small grin. “Now, little missy, I told you earlier that we get it and I meant it.” Dr. Rose sat on her rolling stool, wheeling over to the table. And once there, extended it to be higher so she could talk better with you closer to eye level. “You are not the first one to get all nervous at your first prenatal appointment—or any OB appointment at all— and you’re certainly not the last—far, far from it,” she smiled wide, close-lipped and completely empathetic. Her deep set, big, brown eyes— lashes so long and curled to perfection— showed you how much she cared, behind her big black frames. “Now, how about we get to the good stuff?”

There were obviously a couple tears dripping down your cheek, and you pushed them away as you nodded. Your tummy did all of the flips and tosses and turns—your skin was practically buzzing with nerves. 

You were so close to seeing the truth.

Facing this head on.

“Go ahead and lay back for me,” she instructed. You did as you were told, bending an arm behind your head, trying to get comfortable in skin that felt restrictive. As she stood up, clicking a few buttons to get the monitor screen situated, she asked some questions. “Now can you give me a small debrief on your health history? Anything you can think of? Don’t worry about digging too, too deep right now. We have your blood samples and urine sample that will also aid in indicating any abnormalities.”

The word abnormalities wasn’t your favorite thing to hear, but you didn’t let it sit tight in your brain as you pondered anything she might need to know. 

“Um,” you dipped into the more current issues you’d faced. “I guess. . . anxiety? Depression? Do those count?” 

Dr. Rose hummed in approval and gave a small grin as she went to get a few materials from the cabinet.

“I think the anxiety is worse than the depression, but they’re both persistently just. . . there,” you contemplated what else. . . nothing much was coming to your mind. “I also got my tonsils taken out when I was like 12 years old. . .?”

“You say that as a question,” she commented, a lilt in her voice and a smile on her face, showing that she found it funny. 

“I did have them taken out,” you huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes at yourself as you pushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen out from behind your ear. “I’m just kind of. . .blanking. I know there’s more, but I’m just–just fucking nervous.”

“That’s understandable, sweetie pie,” she assured, her thick Southern accent making your heart rate settle just a bit.

“I know I’m probably missing a few things. Like, there are parts of my childhood that are hazy at best, so there might be things buried back there that I can’t tell you today,” you informed carefully, hoping she understood. When she nodded, you took that as your sign to continue. “I’m seeing a therapist right now who is actually helping me dig up some of it, so I might have a few more answers for you next visit.”

There was a moment of silence as Dr. Rose continued to prepare the sonogram machine, the obnoxious clacking of keys and buttons covering the dull electrical hum that surrounded you. However, that singular moment of time seemed to carry on and on as the nerves in your body seemed to twist your gut to the point that your organs felt close to pushing out of your belly button.

It was as if simply mentioning your mental health – and whispering of your past – was enough to send you into a mini spiral. The muted lull of the clinic didn’t help anything. . . the almost soundless environment, wrapping you up in its emptiness and choking you.

Tap, tap . . .  Tap, tap . . .  Tap, tap . . .

You tried to focus on the thrum of your fingertips along the tender skin of your swollen abdomen, hoping and praying it would keep your thoughts at bay.  

She was taking a long fucking time–which you were sure was normal and warranted. 

But, God. The room just started feeling smaller and smaller as the thoughts got bigger and bigger. You were in the room that was about to tell you the truth of the matter and you still seemed so far away from finding out. . . You weren’t sure what to think. 

Were you even ready to see what the ultrasound was about to show you?

Josh must have noticed the nervous energy you were exuding as the stoppers on the legs of the chair made a sharp scraping noise against the sterile linoleum tile, making you cringe the tiniest bit. He moved his chair closer to the side of the table next to you, opposite of where Dr. Rose sat on the other side.  His dark eyes made contact with yours and his brow raised as if to say, ‘are you okay?’.

All you could manage to do was nod in response, brows knitted.

“Alrighty, I’m going to put some of this gel on your belly and then you’ll feel a bit of pressure once we start.”

You were half expecting a chill to make you jolt with the application of the thick gel, much like you'd seen in movies - you know, where it’s freezing cold and uncomfortable - but as it fell against your skin, you were surprised to be met with a warm temperature that relaxed you.  The clean scent of the gel overpowered your nostrils, but not in a bad way.  It gave you something else to focus on as a slight pressure from the head of the wand, came to push lightly against your belly, just above your pelvic bone.

The black and white image appeared on the screen and. . . showed you nothing. 

Nothing. 

Emptiness. Empty stomach.

Amidst the gray static on the screen, there was nothing but a big black spot that resembled a the shape of a bean.  You had to force yourself to look away, an all-too familiar stinging feeling in the corner of your eyes, showing up again.

All this time, the acceptance of your pregnancy and the effort and hard work you’d put in to create a better life for yourself (and this part of him inside you). . . had shown to be completely pointless.  The feeling of hope that you'd begun to welcome into your life was on the brink of shattering and it didn’t help that Dr. Rose wasn’t saying anything. . . wasn’t doing anything aside from sliding the wand against your empty stomach.

God fucking dammit. All of your worst fears were coming to fruition and every moment you stared at the bleak screen you felt the emptiness on the screen envelop your heart until—.

Thump thump.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Josh gently grabbed onto your arm, reassuring, and pointed at the screen above you. On the screen, displayed clear as day right in front of you, was the outline of a baby’s delicate profile.

The soft curve of its forehead, the splotchy spikes of a tell-tale spine, a little belly, the slightest movement of four tiny limbs protruding from the sides and bottom. . . and the tiniest flicker in the center of it all.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away as Dr. Rose started to press more buttons and a bunch of small dotted yellow lines showed over the image of your baby, measuring from point A to point B. She was speaking, but you couldn’t be bothered to listen to the words she was saying. All you cared about was the miniscule movements on the screen as a leg kicked up or an arm pushed out.  

It was beautiful, striking, amazing, wonderful, unbelievable, and real. . . so very real.

What you had found yourself questioning for weeks wasn’t just a thought, but now cemented reality. The concerns you had and the voice in your head doubting you were silenced to nothing - because the life growing inside you, the product of you and Jake, was right in front of you.  

The product of the best night of your life was finally proven to be the best part of you and it was real.

Thump thump.

The steady sound of a little racing heartbeat drew you back to the present and to the words your doctor was saying to you.

“Profile looks darn good, placenta is anterior, there’s the umbilical cord. . .,” She spoke as she pointed with her finger to each shape of white that was mixed into the static. “Heartbeat is 160, there’s the bladder and the kidneys, oh!” Dr. Rose exclaimed with a chuckle as she seemed to record a movement. Upon playing it back in front of you, she explained the movement as a little hand with five fingers moved up towards a space by the baby’s nose. “The little angel is wavin' at you, mama,” she looked down at you with a knowing smile. 

Your heart swelled more than you’d ever felt in your entire life. This was . . . otherworldly. Absolutely earth-shattering. There were not any words you could string together that would do this moment justice.

“Wow,” you muttered, voice officially clogged with the tears that relentlessly poured down your cheeks. You sniffled. “It’s. . . moving?”

“Sure is,” she winked. “Has been for a while. You have an especially active little one – already. Prepare for some monster kicks here in a couple months, mama.”

“Wow,” you repeated.

“Gets it from their uncle,”Josh said, sniffling behind you.

You smiled over at him. You felt the joy he did. All around. More. This was your baby. Yours and Jake’s. God.

“Exciting, huh, babe?” She asked knowingly. 

All you could do was nod. You weren’t sure you could stop smiling. . . it was hurting your cheeks, but you welcomed it. This was. . . this was everything. Everything you could have ever wished for.

“I know it, honey bun,” she agreed, her red lips perked with joy for you. “Also, according to the size of the baby and the start date of your last menstrual cycle, I would say you are at right about 12 weeks, little missy.”

Once she’d confirmed the gestational age, you saw her scoot the cart back a bit and wipe the wand she’d used with a sterile wipe, putting it back in its slot. Then, she cleaned your belly of any leftover jelly. You just watched from where you were still leaned back, head resting on one arm behind it. She stripped her gloves and tossed them in the nearest waste bin.

“Twelve weeks. Yep,” you breathed, pulling your shirt down. Your cheeks lifted even more at officially knowing (relatively) how old your little bean was. “Based on my last period.”

“Yes. Because, oddly enough, that is technically when the pregnancy started,” she explained. “On the first date of your last menstrual cycle.”

Dr. Rose went to grab a packet, a pamphlet, and a few free-flying papers, all paper-clipped together, from the counter. You sat up as she clicked her way back to you on her stilettos. She kept talking as she handed them to you. “I don’t wanna clog up our time today with all of the technicalities – unless that’s what ya want?” She offered. 

You shook your head no. Today, all you’d come in wanting to know was that your baby was alive. And you knew that now. And fuck, it felt nice. Better than. 

Except . . .

“Is the baby healthy?” You asked worriedly, needing to hear her tell you.

“Positively. One hundred percent, mama,” she confirmed, her teeth sparkling behind her red lips. “From what I could see on the scan, you’ve got a perfectly healthy baby squirmin’ around in there.”

You internally and externally let out a sigh of relief that had needed released for a fat second. The baby was okay. Healthy. Moving. Alive. 

Everything was going to be alright.

You looked down at Josh, his face glowing, cheeks glistening with tears. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked. 

Another tear slipped down his cheek as you felt one well in your eye. You didn’t know why he was proud of you, but the words made your emotions spike. You were proud of the little life inside of you. . . already doing its best to live its best life.

“Back to what I was sayin’ before,” Dr. Rose went on. Your eyes found her, clicking off the machine. “In that paperwork you’ll find all of the technicalities and logistics about the pregnancy. Which vitamins you should take. Prenatals our clinic suggests. Recommended foods to eat. The baby’s size week by week. When I say everything, sweetie, I mean ev-er-ything,” she emphasized in her twang. “You can find the same information on our clinic’s website. There is a help tab on there for our mothers-to-be, but I always provide physical copies for my girls. I also recommend downloading at least one pregnancy tracker app to get notified with updates – it’s just convenient and fun.”

“I downloaded one recently, actually. It’s been amazing. Thank you for everything,” you weakly offered. You also had to know. . . “Will you be the one delivering the baby?”

“Sure thing,” she affirmed. “With ya till ya want rid of me. Speaking of that day, our partnering hospital is Cedars-Sinai, so that is where you’ll end up having the baby,” she paused, bringing her eyes to you. “Since you indicated on the form that you would prefer a planned hospital birth over a planned home birth.”

“Correct. Hospital birth for me,” you affirmed.

“Now, we are going to schedule your next appointment for four weeks from now,” she continued, opening her tablet and typing out the information for her calendar, presumably. “How does December 8th sound, honey bun?”

You didn’t check your calendar, because you would make that day okay. Anything you needed to do to make it happen. “Sounds perfect,” you replied, practically jittering with excitement for the next one. “When will I find out the gender?”

“I always have my girls wait until week 18,” she responded, turning buttons off on the machine before scooting it back where it had started. “So, when you come in for your next appointment, we will actually have ya schedule an extra lil appointment in there to see what our little buddy is in there.”

“Got it,” you told her. 

“Your sonogram pictures will be waitin’ at the front desk for ya,” she said, washing her hands. Then, after she dried them, she grabbed her laptop. “And finally, your due date is–at this point, according to what we know–May 23rd.”

The date was suddenly the most important you’d ever heard. 

It was the day you now felt you’d been waiting for your entire life.

Without ever knowing it. 

This baby was already changing your heart for the better and everyday, it seemed like all the little (alive and moving) bundle of hope did was bring you unadulterated joy. 

The most precious gift that you’d made with someone so precious to you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you’d finished the appointment, Josh had asked if you had any plans. And when you’d said no, he ended up driving you both to a cute little cafe he'd heard about in SoHo. A place that, even from the outside, oozed with a charming aesthetic. 

The two of you sat there, pointing out every single detail of the sonogram pictures, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the tiny feet, tiny hands, and the itty bitty, adorable body that belonged to your baby. . . You had never seen something so beautiful. You were sure of it.

And after that, you’d taken some time to catch up. You’d talked about him and Elsie, Elsie and her travels, and the fact that you’d started going to therapy. (Next to the baby, he was most excited about this.)

All you’d ordered was a Sprite since you weren’t feeling the most hungry as of late. Josh had followed in your lead and only ordered drinks as well. Honey tea and a glass of water. He’d made sure to tell the waitress to grab you a water, too. 

And after a quick trip to the bathroom to relieve your ever-aching bladder, you were back at the table. 

Back at a table where Josh was giving you a look. His eyes were narrowed, a mischievous grin turning his lips up to show a dimple in his cheek.

Just as you’d sat down, the waitress was bringing Josh a new, piping hot tea, since he'd (apparently) already finished the first. 

And then, as soon as she was gone, he was talking.

“I sort of had a weird inkling of something going on. . .,” Josh noted as he stirred, then took a long swig of his tea, steam still emitting from the top. “Goddammit!” He gasped, a pained expression painting his features, as he coughed over the warm temperature of the beverage. “Hot hot hot hot,” he repeated to himself, finding his ice water and taking an even longer swig.

You couldn’t help the burst of laughter that bloomed in your chest, flying past your lips as he continued to down the water. All you got in response was him flipping you off with one long digit, and a wrinkle, knitting his brow.

The sinking feeling in your stomach couldn’t be ignored, though. . . you’d heard what he initially said. How had he known? God. . . how long? Your mind was a frenzy as you forced yourself to stop laughing to focus on the serious subject matter at hand.

“How?”

“Well, y/n,” he replied smartly, motioning to the cup. “It just came from the pot, I’m sure. Don’t you see the damned thing is steaming? Why did I even take a–?”

“No,” you stopped his rambling to clarify your question. “How did you . . .? Did you seriously know?” As you were still air-quoting the last few words, he was already nodding his head to answer you. “How? Why? What did we do wrong? I-I mean- God. Do Sam and Danny know, too?”

“Now, I didn’t say I knew,” he corrected you, feeling at the sides of the mug to test the temperature. And, yet again, he was met with the scorching temperature, thus hissing and placing his hands around the plastic of the water cup. “In essence, I said I had an idea. And you didn’t do anything wrong. I just– he’s my fucking twin, y/n,” he set you with a stare that said ‘Remember?! Can’t fool me!’, before he continued. “And where you’re concerned. . . I know you very well. You’ve been my best friend for several years. . ." he reminded you. "Oh, and I’m also a fucking empath. Which you, my dear, were the first one to ever point out my empathic tendencies. . .,” he winked at you with a grin on his full lips. “You should’ve known you couldn’t keep that shit from me. Not without me getting suspicious as hell.”

“Are you mad?”

He stuck his lip out, looking down at the tea, running his finger tip along the rim of the mug before he wrapped his hands around it again. Apparently not at a burning temperature anymore, he decided to bring the cup up to his lips, pinky up as he gripped the handle. This time, he closed his eyes in relief at the taste of the honeyed tea on his tongue. When he placed it back down, he continued watching it, lips still pushed out in a pout as he shook his head, brow wrinkled.

“Nah,” was all he supplied, his eyes hyper focused on the white ceramic mug.

Of course, you were not convinced. “Josh. Look at me.”

When his eyes slowly slid up to find yours, you found at least one reason he hadn’t been looking at you. There were wet pools accumulating in the ducts of his deep brown eyes. He breathed in deeply, his chest expanding with the giant breath before he blew it out, a lone tear making its way down his cheek. 

“I–,” he started, shaking his head and messing with the front of his curly mop of hair. He dropped his hand to tap against the table. “It’s not that I’m mad. It’s really hard to make me mad. I’m more mad at Jake. He makes me mad very easily when he wants. Because I know he can do better. . . Like starting this with you and not having the balls to see it through and leaving you with a baby in your belly.” It was as if the steam had been transferred from his cup to his ears, his nostrils were flaring as he shook his head and squinted his eyes shut. 

Damn, he and Jake look very similar when they get angry, you suddenly discovered.

“And now, he’s just been fucking Maya while you’ve had to deal with–.”

The tears came instantly. Your vision was blurry before you were even able to process that the tears were there. 

“Oh my god, y/n. I’m so– fuck. I’m sorry,” Josh tried, his tone willing you to hear him out. 

You blinked furiously, covering your eyes with one hand. But, finding it useless to try to hide the tears, you just let them fall freely as you now took deep breaths, your eyes piercing through the window of the cafe. “Can we please not–?”

“Y-yeah, Goddammit,” he nervously fluffed the front of his hair. “Y/n, please look at me.”

Forcing your eyes away from the clear autumn sky, you found his eyes, earnestly begging for you to listen to him. “He wasn’t– he hasn’t– I don’t–,” he growled under his breath, reaching forward for your hand. Which you only stared at until he spoke next. “Please, just take my hand.”

So, you did as he asked and looked at him with desperately sad eyes. 

He watched you carefully for a few minutes, letting the tears leave as he reassured you and apologized a couple more times. 

He cleared his throat, blinking his eyes a few times before apparently deciding on a new conversation. “When did you guys begin. . .?”

You knew he was asking when you’d started fucking his brother. But he obviously wasn’t going to say it. 

Nice turn in conversation, Josh.

“It’s complicated,” you offered wetly, not in the mood to talk.

He hummed, before raising a brow with searching eyes. He was trying to get through to you. “Was it that night at Baby’s All Right?”

How the fuck did he know that–?

But, like you said, it was more complicated–because, no, it really didn’t start at Baby’s. 

“Technically," you sniffled, swiping a finger, then a thumb under both of your eyes. "It started before and after that night. It was a long, drawn out thing that shouldn’t have ever started.”

Instantly, you felt guilty. 

The words felt wrong to say. . .the first thing coming to your mind – the baby. 

If it hadn’t started, you wouldn’t have the baby. The sweet little bean in your belly with a beautiful, beating heart. You placed a steady hand against your tummy to make up for the harsh words. 

And the second thing. . . you couldn’t begin to imagine never getting to be that close to Jake. . . you were grateful it had started. . . But you also hated yourself for ever letting yourself get so tied up in Jake Kiszka.

Figuratively and literally. God. Stupid.

“Yes, it should have,” he affirmed, your eyes flickering to him. “For my niece or nephew alone.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, eyes filling with more tears at the conversation and the spiraling thoughts in your mind. “But, I guess, if we are getting technical. . .," you sniffed. "It started that night he left the venue so pissed and you were equally as pissed with him.”

He seemed to think on that for a second or two, trying to go back to the night to which you were referring. Once he finally found it, his eyes lit up with a twitch on his lips. 

“He was mad that night,” he remembered, his hand squeezing yours. You decided to pull yours away from his as you felt it beginning to perspire. Wiped them on your pants, waiting for him to continue. “And now I know why. You weren’t there.”

“Essentially, yes,” you confirmed with a tilt of your head. You couldn't help but snicker with the next part. “It started when I got home.”

Josh’s lips stretched to the point that his eyes bulged and his cheeks puffed out. He blew out a breath while his eyes stayed huge. “And that is all I need to know about that night.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his expression and his words, to which he lightened with you, falling into a soft moment of laughter alongside you. 

When the humor died down, he took the initiative to speak. And you let him. You really weren’t feeling like talking. The smells of the cafe, for one, were starting to make your stomach turn. “I could’ve guessed that it started around that time,” he began. You quirked a brow, asking him to explain further. “He . . . he changed around that time.” You didn’t speak, which told him to continue. “You see, when he first got to New York, he was so fucking surly and rude. He wasn’t just like that with you, mama. He was short as hell with me, too. And the other guys got his bad side – especially Sammy. His heart was broken and he didn’t know how to handle his shit. He started coming back into himself around that time, though. . .Middle of summer. He sort of peaked around the middle of summer. And if I am doing the math right. . . that is when it was happening?”

You nodded an affirmation, impressed by the quick math. 

“Yeah, he was Jake again,” he expressed, eyes tearing up again. “He was joyful for the first time in years. I hadn’t seen him act so freely and fun since before he and Amelia started dating. There was always something stopping him when he was with her – she was stopping him. But you. . . you must’ve encouraged him to be himself. You didn’t turn down the challenge. You took a chance on my brother.”

After considering the words, the lightbulb appeared above your head. That conversation the day in the record shop. The same day you’d played over and over again to convince yourself out of being with Jake. You’d focused on the other words so much that you’d forgotten all about the positive things–the possibilities that had been discussed that day.

You remembered it now. You'd been talking about high school. And how Jake had sort of decided to fuck all when Josh hadn't. . . and it had turned into you bringing up your love of a challenge. 

Josh had nodded, lips turned down, his eyes still holding a little glint. “Yup. Get my point now?”

“Yeah, but like I just said, I’m not one to turn down a challenge. Just like you, Josh. And your brother. . .I’ve learned he is nothing if not a challenge.” 

He had nodded, knowing you were right. And he’d known you long enough to know that you did indeed enjoy overcoming any problem life may hand you.

God, what had happened to you? Where had the desire to accomplish challenges gone?

Why had you given up? Had you given him up? Or had you simply been done with that challenge? Had Jake just been ready to fly? Had you done what was best?

But, you sidelined those thoughts and decided there were more important matters at hand. Like Josh telling you more about how he was feeling.

“So. . . you’re not hurt?” You asked, your voice hoarse from not talking. You cleared it, and tried again. “You’re not hurt?”

“A little, I guess,” he nodded, eyes studying you.

“That’s fair,” you encouraged – glad he was sharing his heart. “I’m sorry for not telling you. But I just kept hearing your voice in my head–that same day we talked about challenges– that same day you’d told me something and it repeated itself over and over to the point that I tried to resist things happening with Jake. Mostly for you, Josh. I didn’t want to betray you. Didn't want him to betray his dreams. But then it just became something bigger that I couldn’t control. It was . . . different than anything else I’ve ever experienced. I couldn’t stop it from happening.”

“Did you want to stop it?”

“I tried to convince myself that I wanted to . . . but I never did. Not really. I wanted him the whole time, but I felt wrong for it. I was totally disregarding what you’d said to me. . . Going against your wishes for him.”

His eyes got big as he took another sip of his tea, that at this point, was probably lukewarm. But if it was, his face didn’t show it. He licked at his lips and peered at you pensively, curiously. “God, y/n. I’m sorry. What did I even say? I don’t remember,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I hate that my words have been just fuckin’ tormenting you, mama. I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you said, pointing your finger at him, your eyes serious to communicate your point. “You don’t be sorry. I’m the one who was in the wrong. Not even Jake, necessarily,” you included the last part, just on Jake’s behalf. “I was the one who did it even after you’d confided in me that you were happy Jake was getting to live life for himself for the first time – without having to worry about being hung up on a girl. And, then I just let myself be that girl you didn’t want for him – I was the girl to get in his way while he should’ve been living for himself.”

“In the spirit of fairness, though, I told him that he needed to take a break from women. He didn’t listen to me either. Well, sort of. . . he actually did follow my advice, I guess,” he encouraged, his eyes searching yours. “Because I also told him that I wanted him to think of what he wanted first.” His tone lifted as he winked at you. 

Your brow wrinkled . . . what was he trying to say? 

He continued, “Which, I guess, my dear, after the dream . . . was you.”

Feeling suddenly lightheaded and loopy with Josh’s words, you let them settle for a minute or two before saying anything more. 

And, the waitress had perfect timing. She filled the open air by asking if you needed anything. First time she’d been back in a hot damn second. Josh asked for a new tea, and you asked for another glass of Sprite. 

All that you could think in that moment was that you really had been the opposite of the right thing for Jake. So, you decided to speak your mind.

“But. . . no,” you declined his words, shaking your head. “No, Josh. He didn’t put himself first – he had a woman – me – that he was focused on instead of learning himself.”

He took a bit to consider your words, his eyes squinted at you as he pursed his lips. The waitress came back to the table as the conversation lulled for his response. 

As soon as she left, though, the two of you were back to it.

“Y/n,” he began, his lips growing into a sure smile. His hands came to clasp in front of him, his hair bouncing with each disbelieving shake of his head. “He did. He moved here. He started pursuing the dream. He got a job he loved by teaching lessons.” Thus meeting Maya, you snarkily thought. “He did put himself first. Did all of that, and then he pursued you.”

. . . you hadn’t really thought of it that way. Not once had you considered that. 

God. What if you’d told Josh a long time ago? Chances were, he would’ve eased your fears and worries. . . but instead, you’d assumed he’d think the worst and let your thoughts derail. 

Would you even be in the predicament you were today? 

You knew the answer. The answer was most likely no. You wouldn’t have the baby because there would’ve never been a night - the night - to relieve your Jake-induced stress. Because you would have already taken the time to talk to Josh. . . He would have reassured you before you even had time to ever get to that depressive point.

Would he have convinced you to be with Jake? 

You didn’t know. . . but. . . it was too late now. 

You were where you were now and there was nothing you could do about it. 

And none of this ever worked in how Maya had already been in the picture – maybe she had been part of the reason he became happier in the middle of summer.

In the end, she could be the one to thank for this– it could most definitely not be you. The sad truth of the matter was, she had probably been filling his cup all along. . .while he was filling yours.

While you were letting yourself get tangled in him, he was feeling the same emotions. . . but for her. Because, in the end, she was easier than you.

You couldn't find it in good conscience to be with him anyway.

Because, well, you still wouldn’t have wanted to distract him from his dream with a relationship. His dream was too valuable to possibly table for you. You were too much of a mess that he could get distracted by, rather than taking the time to fulfill his dream.

She freed up his time with her carefree nature. And you only infiltrated his time with your darkness. She was sunshine, brightening up his paths.

You had to figure you out before you could ever make someone as happy as Maya made Jake. 

Before you had this baby.

However the tables turned, they had already turned. And it was too late to go back and change anything now. You weren’t even sure what you would change–or what you would think if you could turn back time. There was too much filling up your brain–your life– to make the wisest decision. 

It didn’t matter anyway.

So, you told Josh all you could think to say. The same words you’d thrown nastily in Jake’s face, you threw harshly in your own.

“Well, I guess I served my purpose.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

When Josh pulled your car into your space, Jake’s was nowhere to be found. As always, you couldn't help but wonder where he was. He hadn't worked today so he was probably with-.

“I really am most mad at my brother.”

“Try not to be,” you encouraged lamely. You really didn’t care too much about him being angry at anyone right now. . . all you really cared about was getting upstairs to your bed to take a nice, long nap. It had been a day. 

“I’m going to be for a whi–.”

Tap tap tap.

Both of your eyes turned to Josh’s window. Outside of the driver’s side was Jake. You could see all the way down his loose shirt. It was open and tempting his tanned skin and firm chest, while his necklaces hung loosely in front of him, as he was bent over to peek into the car.

But. . . you could see the heated glare from his eyes, even through the tint of his Ray-Bans. His nostrils were flared and his lips had curled into a faux smirk. 

When Josh rolled his window down, you heard Jake's breathy chuckles that had no indication of anything truly humorous behind them. They sounded more bitter than anything else. 

“What have you two been up to?” he questioned, the inflection on the word ‘you’ paired with his snide tone told you he was probably less than thrilled to see you and Josh together. Alone, at that. 

But why? Why the fuck would he care?

You were struck completely motionless and silent, feeling nauseous again, desperately trying to swallow down that all too familiar sensation. But this time, it wasn’t due to the hormones wreaking havoc in your tummy, it was Jake’s presence at this incredibly horrid time that had your belly flipping in slow motion somersaults. 

Josh huffed a laugh that nearly replicated Jake’s. Mimicking his twin to further his irritation, no doubt. You knew Josh was in no mood to put up with Jake’s piss-poor attitude, especially given everything he had discovered. You were tightly holding your breath at whatever the hell could possibly come from Josh's mouth, hoping that he would say as little as possible.

“Funny that you should ask, Jacob,” Josh retorted. He turned his head to the left to make eye contact with his twin, his fingers were still gripped to the steering wheel with a force that turned his knuckles stark white.

What was he about to say? Shit. He knew better. . . right?

“Because," Josh began. "I don’t exactly believe it’s any of your business what we're doing. In fact, I know it’s none of your business.”

Ironic. . . because it most definitely was his business. He just didn’t know it. Not yet.

He flashed Jake his classic Josh grin, extra wide with eyes squinted, an extra, added dramatic flair of his fluttering eyelashes to seal his condescending statement. 

You let out the breath you had been holding, thankful that Josh kept from saying too much. This was not how you wanted Jake to find out. Although, you still had no idea when or how you would approach that. 

All you knew for sure, was that this wasn’t the right time. 

Jake had stood firm the entire time, a brow raised with an obviously fake grin that held his lips in a tight line. His first response was a snicker through his nose and a patronizing simper, just shy of a full on scowl. 

“‘Kay, got it,” he sneered. Then, he was patting the side of the driver's door with his opened palm before swiftly turning on his heel to walk away. He forcibly shoved his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans as he sauntered off, and you couldn’t help but notice how it stretched the fabric even tighter against his perfectly, rounded ass. A sight you still fawned over, admittedly. 

How could you not?

But you broke your gaze quickly once Josh turned to face you once again. Even though he finally knew about the special addition that you shared with his brother, you’d still feel awkward (and a little guilty) as fuck if he watched you gawk over him so openly. Especially on a day so sensitive as today.

Josh had let out an exasperated sigh deep from his lungs, his jaw clenched and hard when he finally shut the humming engine off. “I have so much that I want to say to him,” he muttered, mostly to himself as his tone was hushed.

Yeah. Me fucking too, you thought to yourself. Don’t you think I get it?

Without the engine running, the car had become dead silent. The type of silence that allowed you to hear the rapid beating of your own heart clearly in your ears. (You even thought for a moment that you could hear Josh’s, too. That kind of quiet. Like earlier. Right after you'd told him.)

It gave you time to ponder. . . Despite his incredible response to all of this today, you still worried. Because, for the first time in the literal years of having Josh as your safe haven, you feared that things could have changed far too much for him to ever look at you the same again.

But then, your never ending train of overthinking was put to a halt when he placed a loving hand on your knee. When his warm eyes connected with yours, they reassured you that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere. At least not anytime soon.

“You ready to go inside, mama?” 

His sweet smile that you had loved for years lit up his once hard features. Seeing the signature grin lifted some weight off your heavy shoulders.

You nodded your head and unbuckled your seatbelt as he did the same. But as you lifted the latch on the passenger door, another thought began clouding your mind, a question that you felt you needed to ask someone. That you needed to ask Josh.

“Hey. . .,” you started as he already had one foot out the door.

He stalled his movements and promptly turned his head to face you. 

“Yeah?” he answered, the same smile still cocked in the corner of his mouth.

“When should I tell him?”

He situated himself back inside, resting his back against the dark leather. His eyes were cast on yours, soft and kind as you’d always known them to be, yet a seriousness found within them. 

“That’s up to you, mama. You have to decide when the time feels right.” His gentle hand reached to grab your shoulder in a reassuring gesture, effectively pulling you away from your burdening thoughts. 

Once you’d finally made your way out of the car, you heard him clear his throat and looked to see what else he had to say. He was squinting at you through the autumn day’s rays when he finished the line of thought he’d started in the car.

“But. . . knowing my twin, he’d want to know sooner rather than later. Don’t wait too long, love. He’s got a good heart, you know that. Give him the chance to step up like I know he will.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Friday, November 11, 2022

You’d missed the show completely. As you knew you would. 

Josh had known you were going to show up later than usual since your school work was (quite actually) burying you. Specifically, it was thanks to a 20-page paper that was due tonight. 

Thankfully, you’d been able to finish it in time to at least meet the boys at the bar (smoke free, Josh had clarified on the phone) they’d decided to hang out at after the show. You hadn’t hung out with them after a show in forever. Hadn’t even been to a show in. . .well, you didn’t even know how long.

The reason could be mostly chalked up to your intense homework load this semester, but part of you knew you’d also been trying to avoid them due to the addition of Maya. 

It just didn’t feel the same anymore. And you knew you couldn’t force yourself to pretend. So, the extra school work turned out to be a pretty good excuse. At least you weren’t fabricating anything when you’d told them you couldn’t make it. (Although you would prefer if you didn’t have so much fucking homework.)

But you did miss watching Jake perform. You missed the faces he’d make while playing his guitar, the ones that so closely resembled the one’s he’d make with you. The way he’d thrust himself into his beloved instrument, or pull it close to his body with a force that left your head reeling and your body in dire need for him. 

As much as you missed all of that, something you missed even more was witnessing how his passion exuded through his entire body while he played. How his love for his art was so wonderfully evident as he put so much of himself into every song he played. 

And with the way your body kept betraying you – literally pulsing with desire for him anytime he was simply near you . . . to the point of needing to relieve yourself with your hands or a toy. . . You were weak as fuck. You figured it probably wasn’t the best idea to watch him perform like that with your hormones going ballistic.  

Too many factors worked together to make you feel rather uncomfortable about being near him in that capacity. But. . . here you were. Waiting at the bar for them to arrive. 

Putting yourself in a situation where he’d inevitably be near – sitting at the same booth as you, most likely. Admittedly, it wasn’t your most incredible idea. But Josh telling you the other guys had been missing you made you realize how badly you’d missed them. 

So. Here you were. Scrolling on pregnant influencers’ Instagram pages for helpful tips and testimonials (and occasionally Jake’s page, just to torture yourself) as you waited for them.

Just as you’d thought to send Josh a text letting him know you were at the bar and sitting at a booth near the back, you felt the urge to pee like no other. Your belly had sort of popped in the few days that had transpired since your first ultrasound. You were learning that twelve weeks on your body was the. . . rounder version of twelve weeks. . . Which was not working in your favor to hide your changing body. 

Thankfully, the rest of your body looked mostly the same as normal – save for your boobs which were still about as big as they were in your Shining twin costume (not growing too much more yet, but continuing to be sore as hell). They weren’t giant, per se, but they definitely looked noticeably bigger and felt fucking heavy.

So, you were officially having to wear looser-fitting clothing to avoid anyone looking at you differently. To be fair, to most eyes, it probably would've looked like some weight gain around your midsection if you wore normal clothing. But to you, it literally just looked like you were pregnant. 

You were definitely getting used to waking up every morning to a body that looked just a little different than the day before. Noticed every little change—but they didn’t feel little to you. . . Anything that changed felt massive to you.  

. . .Hence why you were being overly cautious with the giant sweaters. . . Because, to you, it looked so obviously different that you didn’t want to risk people thinking anything or asking any questions.

And, thanks to your newly expanding uterus and a spike in your progesterone (according to your Ovia app), you were beginning to actually wiggle in your seat from the urge to pee. It was all rather unkind on your poor bladder. . .  You had to fucking relieve yourself soon or you would be peeing your leggings. It would be embarrassing as hell to pee yourself and smell like it for the entire evening.

Though, you realized, as people started filtering in, that you couldn’t get up to pee. . . It was too much of a risk that you’d lose the one big booth to this hastily growing Friday night crowd.

Just as you’d started contemplating your lack of options, a particular laugh you’d gotten (unfortunately) used to, made its way through the crowded bar. Your eyes zoomed to the dark haired, caramel-skinned beauty who’d taken up residence in Jake’s life. 

Maya. 

Her laugh was just as beautiful as she was. . . Directing every eye in the front of the establishment to her as they joined in on whatever she was laughing about. She was a force to be reckoned with and it was obvious anytime you saw her. You were pretty sure you could see her chocolate eyes actually sparkling, all the way from across the bar.

Then, here you were in a giant ass Pratt hoodie with plain black, ratty leggings and your white Chucks. Feeling bloated and gross. . . And still needing to really fucking pee. So you had to put your insecurities to the side and get up from the spot you’d effectively heated up for the last twenty minutes because your one and only solution had just walked in. 

You didn’t want to walk away and lose your spot, so you did the only thing you could think to do. 

“Maya!” You called in her direction, tucking your phone into your hoodie pocket with one hand while the other waved at her. An incredibly forced smile was plastered to your face. 

Is this the first time I’ve ever spoken to her? You wondered briefly. 

Even though you knew the answer. 

Yes, definitely the first time I’ve ever talked to her. Weird. And funny fucking cause for it, too, you giggled to yourself, just behind your close-mouthed grin.

It was as if she’d already seen you, because she looked at you with a knowing look. She sent you a (stupid) wink and a (stupid, yet admittedly kind) wave, along with a wide smile—bright white teeth complimented by her full lips. 

Standing up had caused your bladder to go into emergency mode—a sensation similar to nearly bursting was the only way you could describe it. And, strangely, you suddenly felt sort of dizzy from the overwhelming pressure. 

That’s odd, you thought absently, brows wrinkling ever so slightly with the feeling. Ignoring it, you kept waving. And, the smile slipped from your face as you urgently motioned her over. Getting the hint, she said goodbye to the few patrons she’d been talking with and made her way to you. 

Long, wavy hair, inky as the night sky, flowed in waves around her shoulders as she sweetly pushed through people on the way to the booth. 

Every man she passed had to do a double take, watching her as she passed by them. . . You didn’t blame them. She was a fucking dream. (And you hated it.)

Body positively snatched and voluptuous in her all-black outfit. Her large breasts, exposed just right in her extremely low-cut black shirt. The shirt dipped all the way to the middle of her rib cage, exposing a lot of her perfect, perky breasts and tight abdomen. The tiny waist just below the dip was intimidating at best and had you feeling extremely self conscious of your nearly non-existent waist (thanks to the tiny friend living inside of you). You were glad you couldn’t see her ass, because you knew the exquisitely round part of her would have you heading for the door rather than the restroom. 

God, why did she have to look like a damn model? It was the worst possible thing for you. You were sure of it.

Once she was finally at the table, you didn’t want to stand there and stare at her. She had you feeling ready to jump out of your unfamiliar, changing body. Made you feel like nothing, just by standing there.

And, most importantly, you were nearing the risk of peeing with a singular movement at this point. You really weren’t sure how you’d make it to the restroom, but you had to try. 

You were already toeing around the table, out of the booth, when you spoke to her, averting your eyes and finding the restroom sign instead. “I’ve gotta pee really fucking bad,” you hastily said, taking the final step from the back of the booth. “Can you save this table for me so we have a place to sit?”

“We?” She questioned. “Y/n, I would definitely normally save it for you and your friends, but I have to work on finding my own place since I’m waiting here for Jake and the—.”

“Jake and the guys, I know.” You snapped, eyes flashing as you finished for her, not focusing on your facial expression. You were almost positive you rolled your eyes at her comment. 

Does she not know? Why? Did no one tell her?

Bouncing on the heels of your feet, back and forth, you quickly continued. Matter at hand. “I’m here to hang with you guys, too, but I’ve gotta—.”

“Pee!” She finished, a giggle that was probably supposed to be cute left her lips. “Go! I’ll save it. Go, go, go!” 

You were already walking away with her last sentence, hearing her from behind your back as you focused on not wetting your pants on the way to the ladies room. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you got back out, you were instantly met with the sight of all of the guys at the back booth you’d saved.

Your eyes, sadly, found Jake and Maya first – sitting practically on top of each other in the back corner of the booth. She was wrapped up in Jake, while engaging in a conversation with Sam. And, even though she seemed to only be halfway listening, Sammy kept on talking like she was interested in only him. 

But with the way Jake’s hand toyed with the hair over her shoulder and eventually traveled to squeeze (and hold) her waist. . . you knew why she wasn’t fully listening. Sammy would not be getting her full attention any time soon, and you knew that from personal experience. If it were you Jake was playing with like that, you would have tuned Sam completely out. 

Pushing any emotion down that threatened to boil up to the surface, you kept on walking to the booth. 

And when you got close enough, all of the attention was suddenly on you. The first one to notice you was Danny, who got up from his end seat on the booth to greet you with a giant hug. You sank into him, feeling all of the love that he was emitting sink into your sore body. 

Then, Sam was loudly exclaiming your presence, telling you that he was waiting for his own hug. 

You went around the three brothers who wanted to give you a squeeze. 

Sam hugged you especially hard, making your boobs ache like no other when he pressed hard against you. Gratefully, Josh had been paying attention when you caught his eye with a pained expression and had loudly determined that it was his turn.

After Josh had grasped you from Sam and given a loose hug, you stood awkwardly. Waiting. But for what?

But. . .you knew what. . .knew why.

It was Jake’s turn. 

Though, all you got was a little close-lipped smile and a half-wave with a head nod from his spot next to his supermodel girlfriend. 

You reciprocated with essentially the same response, your stomach falling to your feet as you did so. It was ludicrous to think he’d get up for a hug, too. Especially with Maya sitting next to him with her perfectly-fucking-manicured hand clutching the inside of his thigh. 

God, you needed to feel him close to you, though. You needed your hand on his inner thigh, dangerously close to a place on his body that’d been so accustomed to yours. You couldn’t help the way you yearned for him to be inside of you again. . . It was fucking embarrassing as hell.

And, then there was an incredibly intrusive thought. 

It told you that, for some (strange) reason, the idea of his pecs pressing into your sore breasts. . .sounded extremely appealing. (And the thought of his hands or his warm, wet mouth on them? Fuck.) 

But— you knew at this point, there was a fat chance of that ever happening.

He didn’t want you near him like that. And definitely not his hands or mouth on you. So you were sure he did not want a measly hug either.

And right now? In this bar? At this exact time? Obviously-fucking-not. Why would he move away from perfection? For you? In your frumpy-ass outfit? As you glanced down self-consciously, you even noticed one white sock peeking way higher than the other from your high-tops. 

Small details. Small details that showed how much of a fucking mess you were in comparison to her.

When you heard his laugh cut through the wave of emotion you were feeling, you looked back up at him. Only to see that he was engaged with Maya and Sam in some (apparently) hilarious conversation. 

He didn’t give two shits about you that way anymore. Why would he?

The terrible things you’d said to him in the kitchen were the first reason that came to your mind. Haunted you everyday, reminding you that you didn’t deserve his attention. 

You bet she, in her utter perfection and 'sunshiney' ways, would never tell him the things you had. He was probably relishing in the mental break she provided him. A break from the emotional thunderstorm that was you. 

But what the two lovebirds didn’t know was that you were carrying a part of him within you that she couldn’t do a thing about. No matter what she was to him, she didn’t have what you did. 

Though, the depressing truth of the matter was even if you were carrying his baby, Maya was still the one falling asleep next to him more nights than not. You had a piece of him, yes, but she had all of him. 

Fuck. That felt selfish. Without even thinking about it, you brought your hands up to your stomach as an effort to apologize to the little lemon-sized baby in your tummy. 

You are enough for me, you desperately thought, looking down, hoping to translate the words somehow to your unborn bundle of hope. You give me plenty of joy. 

“Y/n,” Josh spoke, breaking you from your reverie. 

“Mmm?” You hummed.

Then he was leaning over, whispering so quietly in your ear. “You’re about to give particular notice to your stomach.”

Shit. You instantly dropped your hand, looking around to make sure no one had noticed. 

Thankfully, no one had. 

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to your best friend, and scooted into the space he and Daniel had left for you, between them, on their side. 

Sitting again helped to balance you, as the dizziness from earlier kept coming back in tiny spurts. You didn’t know what it was all about, but you knew it was probably something attributed to pregnancy. It was probably something normal that you didn’t need to be worried about. 

But, you figured having someone to lean on would help to keep you steady. So, you found Josh’s shoulder, pressing against him. It was more than necessary, so you let your shoulder lazily lay against his arm. The closeness to a safe person felt overwhelmingly comforting in the otherwise emotionally-wrought headspace you were experiencing. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

About an hour later, you found yourself humming along to the music that had gotten progressively louder over the time you’d been sitting with the guys. Getting lost in the melodies felt nice. And you’d noticed, walking in that night, that it was soul music night, according to the sign on the front door of the bar.

Your favorite.

After sitting with them for only a few minutes, making small talk with Sam and Danny to catch up, you’d essentially let yourself become an observer. You’d just listened to them talk about all of these new, sudden opportunities that were coming around for them.

So much was changing. 

They were essentially done with the smaller gigs. Their label’s management had put their foot down that they were done with those. They wanted them going to more popular, reputable places to get their name out there. The label had taken it upon themselves to work with their manager to put them in bigger venues. They’d even begun advertising the boys with promotional pictures and posters all over active streets in Brooklyn.

“We’ve had photoshoots, y/n,” Sam had boasted in wonder at one point, making sure to involve you in the conversation. “Photoshoots! Like, real rockstar things.”

“‘S fucking nuts,” Daniel agreed, nodding beside you, sending you a small smile. “People working on wardrobe for us and all that shit.”

“Well, you are rockstars,” you told Sammy genuinely, letting your eyes skate to each of the boys (save for one). But, when you finished your statement, you let your eyes find him. And his eyes literally melted into yours. Like he’d been waiting for you to acknowledge him. “You’ve been ready for this for a long time. I’m just glad you are finally getting to live it.”

But you tore your gaze away before it could become too much. Though, the snicker you heard from Maya made your eyes cut to her. You forced yourself to hold your tongue. Didn’t trust yourself with what might come out of your mouth. What had her feeling all bitter and shit? She didn’t get the fucking half of it.

That particular thought had your hands falling to clasp tightly against your tummy, thankfully hidden by the table. 

They’d also begun working on their first album (which you knew about), but its release date had officially been set in stone for May. It was daunting for you and felt huge to you, so you couldn’t imagine how it felt for them. 

It was all moving so fast. . . Which, if you were being honest, terrified you for what was to come in the near future. The little bean that was set to arrive around the time of the album’s release. Because of all of your recent . . .changes, it just felt like a terrible time for things to feel so unsure and abnormal. 

You knew it was selfish to feel that way. You did. It was just impossible to not feel worried and anxious. 

The stress inevitably started climbing up into your upper back, creating tension. And, Josh, being Josh, must’ve sensed a change in your demeanor. He’d wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you started feeling all bunched up and jittery. You’d leaned into it, needing the incredible amount of comfort in his embrace and presence. 

The music was setting your mind at ease from the tension you felt in your body. It also helped to alleviate the awkward air you felt with the proximity of Jake’s guest. Who sat there looking so beautiful all night. Jake’s arm hadn’t left her shoulders all night, twirling her long waves between his long fingers. You had to look away at several points. It didn’t take long for the sight to become too much. Your ever-present nausea only increased by watching them. 

So you didn’t watch. Didn’t allow yourself to look at him.

You breathed in the music. The music saved you. You just listened to the music. The world was a blur. 

But, when they all joined in on mutual excitement, all smiles and voices getting louder, you tuned back in just slightly.

And when you did, they were talking about one particular thing they were all looking forward to: a special event of sorts that was coming up. 

Apparently it was a huge thing for this event to take place. One final step before embracing the stardom. It would happen in a few months’ time — once the label execs heard a few songs, and released them as singles. Then, they would get to preview them to the public. 

It would be an intimate type of event, more like old times, but for a few semi-important people who worked for the tour management team and whoever else wanted to come. It would be a listening party where the boys would play their new music. And according to the boys, it was the label’s attempt to get an idea of touring being a possibility. 

A lot of it was pinned on if the turnout was good. On how the guys interacted with the crowd. How the performed. . . It would be a sort of audition for the tour management team. 

“I have faith that they’ll love us,” Sammy said, buzzing with excitement. “I’m speaking that shit into existence.” 

The rest of the guys agreed.

Your eyes inadvertently snapped to Jake when he spoke next. “And once we start touring. . .,” he said, grin huge and his eyes shining at the other guys. “That’s when it all becomes fucking real. And it’ll be here before we even know it.”

Your stomach fell.

Josh squeezed your knee after he’d said it, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Your thoughts were fucking spiraling. Looking down, you closed your eyes to will the tears away— tried your best to be subtle with your bundled up emotions. 

You felt so excited for him. You wanted it for them—for him. All along, you’d wanted him to live his dream. The one he’d had for so long. But the idea of him going off and away. . . All of them being so far away, all of the time, right at the time your life would be inevitably changing for the rest of forever. . . It was a lot to wrap your mind around.

It had your stomach tied in fucking knots—the idea of Jake being a dad, but not getting to be one. Leaving you. Leaving the baby. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, per se, but it was going to hurt like hell. 

You swore, right then and there, that you would not let him give it up for anything. Not a baby, definitely not you (not that he’d want to abandon it for you) — it was the last thing you wanted. The last thing that would happen. 

He would live the dream. Even if you had to force him to do so.

No matter how badly you already knew you’d  want him around during that massively  transformative time. . . You were capable of doing it on your own. And Elsie would help. She would most definitely be around, you already knew. 

But. . . Jake. 

You shoved the thoughts down to the tresses of hell, literally planting your feet flat on the floor to center yourself to present time. Shifting a bit, you laid your head on Josh’s shoulder, letting your eyes drift closed after a while. Didn’t sleep, no, but you felt like you could have. Your body felt loose and weak from the night’s stress slowly leaving your body as you focused on Josh’s steady breathing and the music. 

As the night wore on, the volume had ended up getting so loud that everyone practically had to yell at one another to have a conversation, even within the close confines of the booth. 

So, you had to blink your eyes open at that point. It was too much. The over-stimulation was soon approaching. You could feel it. You felt. . . heavier than normal. Like, you were being pulled down to the earth with exhaustion. Which was new, but probably just over-stimulation.

Even with your eyes open, they were hooded. You were so tired, you felt as though you couldn’t open them much more. And the dizziness from earlier was back with force. 

So you focused on swaying your body a little to the rhythm of each song, tapping out the beat of each on the table. Josh had instinctively begun humming along with you while still managing to keep conversation with everyone else. He’d sneak the occasional smile to give a sign of him remaining loyal to your company as well as the others’.

The melodious harmonies of Stevie Wonder’s "Please Don't Go" had been a surprise, as it was a more unpopular hit of his. It was a welcome distraction to listen to a song you knew well over the speakers, for all ears to hear. Nothing beat hearing songs you loved, playing in public spaces. 

Oh, Stevie. His songs had historically been known to bring you peace. Always had. Always would. Stevie's music never failed to meet you where you were emotionally. This song, not being an exception, and hitting extremely close to home for the present time. . . But still, the tension you’d felt all night began to dissipate, sizzling out almost completely with the beautiful ending of the track.

Just as the heavy weight of your anxieties you’d carried all night had lifted, the next song started to ring throughout the building.

Only this time, the feeling it gave you was a far cry from the previous. 

You knew it instantly. You’d be able to hear this song even if it weren’t blaring throughout the building. 

As soon as the first note sounded, it sent a vibration straight to your heart and a swarm of butterflies (that actually felt more like bees) to your tummy. 

You hadn’t looked at him yet, but you felt Jake’s eyes piercing through you. 

You didn’t want to look at him. Not yet. 

Your hormones had been far too out of whack for that. You knew you’d cry instantly upon seeing his face while this song played at a volume that you now wish was much, much lower.

Aretha’s powerhouse voice repeated it over and over again. 

You’re all I need to get by, you’re all I need to get by, you’re all I need. . .

No, you weren’t looking at Jake. But he was still the only vision clouding your mind’s eye. 

You were back on your living room floor. . . his eyebrows bunched together with each heavy thrust into you, the sweat that accumulated between them, the perspiration and exertion that could only come from real intimacy. . .passion.

And it was plain to see that you were my destiny. . .

His coffee colored eyes that bore into you as his body connected with yours in the most intimate way that it could’ve. 

And when I lose my will, you’ll be there to push me up that hill. . .

How he filled you so completely, stretching you the only way you ever wanted. . . How, in that moment, it felt like he was made to fit you. Your body, your heart, your life.

I don’t know what’s in store, but together we can open any door. . . 

Without even meaning to, your eyes met his. 

And while Maya was going on about whatever she felt the need to talk about, he was watching you. His eyes were extremely thoughtful. . . So much being communicated behind them. 

If you were delusional, you’d even go so far as to say he was admiring you. . . The way his eyes flashed a bit as you watched him, too. 

But you weren’t delusional. 

Though, you just knew that he was thinking the same thing as you. . . He knew. He knew this song was special. 

And as much as you attempted to not wear your emotions, with your condition, it was impossible.

You felt your eyes prick with tears as the song came to an end, and you quickly put your head down for what you knew was coming. And when the small drop hit your cheek, as soon as it appeared, you wiped it away. 

You looked back up, sniffing once and shaking your head.

Why did I have to fucking look?

“God, I wish they’d play music from this century here for once. Or at least something halfway decent,” Maya snickered, her attention on Jake, pulling his gaze away from you with her ignorant remark. “This song could put me straight to sleep. Music like this is meant to be left in the past where it belongs.” 

What the hell? What was even the point? 

What she said had your blood boiling with red hot rage. Of course she had to pick this song to insert her disgusting opinion.

And how was Jake, of all people, in a relationship with someone who thought so little of older music? How did he put up with that shit? It would be really fucking hard to hear things like that all the time if you were in his shoes.

A look of pure disgust washed over Josh’s face, and you knew he wouldn’t take her shit laying down. Not when it came to good, classic soul music. Not to mention, Aretha was one of his biggest vocal inspirations. “How can you not appreciate the Queen of Soul? She paved the way for singers of every genre, her voice is timeless and immaculate. To criticize her is to criticize all music.” 

His defensive tone had everyone silent for an almost uncomfortable amount of time.

You wanted to chime in and let her know that you agreed with everything he said. But you felt it best to keep your mouth shut given the real reason you were so pissed. Didn’t trust your emotions to stay steady enough to get your point across. 

This was personal.

To your shock, it was Jake that ended up breaking the awkward silence at the table. “You know, babe, some of us have some pretty significant memories tied back to music like this,” he asserted, sharply, pulling away from her, dropping his arm from her shoulders to look at her better. “This song specifically. . . At least for me.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at what he was implying. Significant? He couldn’t mean. . .? But then he flashed his eyes to you. And you knew. 

Fuck, Jake. The butterflies let completely loose in your tummy at the implication. At the look. 

He continued, his voice growing softer, while staying assertive. “And it could very possibly be hurtful to others when you say surface level shit like that.”

Maya scoffed, rolling her eyes. This was the first time you’d ever witnessed the woman be something other than a dream. “So I can’t have opinions, hm?” 

“I never said—,” Jake tried, getting interrupted by her continuing. 

She was piercing him with a glare, tone biting. “Did you ever stop to think about how it hurt my feelings when you refused to see 21 Savage with me? And after I got us the tickets, no less?” 

You didn’t mean to snort a small laugh at her words. 

But. . . 21 Savage?!

Thankfully, you weren’t alone in finding amusement in the words as everyone else had a similar response. Sammy spit out the drink he’d just taken, some of it even coming out of his nose. Daniel had clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged it down his face, closing his eyes in the process. 

And Josh turned to you as soon as you turned your sights to him. He made eyes at you, raising his brows with a grin threatening to turn into a laugh. If he could’ve spoken, you assumed he’d say something along the lines of ‘oh, shit.’

Sam was the next to speak, barely able to catch a breath as he wiped the leftover drink from around his mouth with a napkin. “Maya, my dear,” he giggled, the words distorted a little by the wipe of the napkin. “You surely can’t have an emotional connection with his music?”

“Maybe I do,” she retorted, scooting away from Jake a little. Crossing her arms over her cleavage, she eyed Sammy, judgmentally. “Maybe it saw me through some really hard times.”

“Did it?” Danny tried, his face seeming earnest in pursuit to find sense in her music taste. 

“Well,” her eyes found Danny’s, but darted around a bit, still. “Not necessarily. . . But I do enjoy his music. . . Which is my prerogative.”

Josh’s brow was quirked. He stared her down, his face a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “Maya,” he cleared his throat. Her eyes found him, hard and defensive. But it was obvious she was losing some steam. “There is a difference between enjoying music and having it change the entire trajectory of your entire life.”

Before she could sputter out a response, the waiter was back at the head of the table with the two pizzas the guys had ordered. 

“One pepperoni pizza,” she said, placing one giant tray of pizza on the table. 

Your nose immediately picked up on the overwhelming scent of cheese and pepperoni. You had never smelt something so greasy. This was even worse than the greasy smell at Waffle House on the morning you’d gone with Elsie. And where there, you could find some sort of nostalgic comfort in the smell of it. . . there was nothing that could make this pizza’s smell appealing. Fuck.

“And. . .,” Sammy’s excited tone broke through your nauseous reverie. 

You didn’t look up, only watched in near agony as the second pizza, filled with every vegetable in the book, was sat right in front of you. Every fucking vegetable had it’s own special, rancid smell that you hadn’t ever noticed until now. 

Goddamn. And it just got worse as you let your eyes follow a slice that Sam took off the tray, cheese so disgustingly stringy, to his waiting mouth. The way his teeth sunk into the pizza and the oil slipped down his chin. . . You felt the bile rise in the back of your throat at the sight. The dizziness set in again. Then there was the cheese that came to the corner of his mouth as he chewed his first bite with an open mouth. 

Closing your eyes, you tried your best to will it away. 

But you couldn’t. It was too late. Behind your closed eyes, all you could see was the sight again, but this time, in slow motion. . . more and more repulsive with every flash of the image. 

You found Josh’s leg, hitting it repeatedly to indicate that you needed out of the booth. Your other hand, held tightly over your mouth, which felt as though it could explode with projectile vomit at any moment. 

That would be real cute. A really effective way to make Jake look at you. . . but not for the reasons you’d want. 

At. All.

Thankfully, Josh got the hint and quickly scooted out of the booth to allow you out. 

And as soon as your feet hit the concrete floor, you were speeding to the bathroom once more. This time, immediately landing on your knees over the toilet with a hand clutching your hair, as you retched the (very little) contents of your stomach into the toilet.

It was alarming, to say the least, as you saw only clear saliva goo floating around in the bowl. . . no food accompanying the sickness you’d just produced. 

I haven’t eaten today, you thought suddenly, wiping your brow of the sweat that had accumulated. Nothing to puke out because everything sounded vile.

And then the dizziness was setting in again as you rose from your place on the ground.

You really hadn’t been eating much at all. And pickles, being the only thing you could stand to eat, did not give you proper nutrients. You knew that. 

Have to figure something out, you decided as you washed your hands. Disturbingly, you saw four hands instead of two and it was daunting at best. Need to go home and do some research so I can figure out how to fucking eat something.

By the time you got back to the booth, you already had your keys out of your belt bag. 

Josh gave you a sympathetic grin. He mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ and you just shook your head, reassuring him with a mimicked ‘It’s fine’ in response.

When you snapped your head up from Josh to say bye to the others, you realized that Jake was watching you closely. Pensively. Unsurely. 

You gulped, setting your eyes on him. If only you knew, Jake. . . But, suddenly, anger was flaring in the place of any butterflies. Lack of food and pregnancy could do that to a person. But you don’t know. So quit looking at me. 

“You feelin’ sick, Baby Dragon?” Sam said, breaking you out of your staring contest with Jake.

“Yeah, noticed you weren’t drinking tonight. . . you okay?” Danny interjected. 

“O–Oh, yeah. No, yeah,” you shook your head, which only caused your head to throb. Shit. “Just tired. Exhausted from school.” And from carrying a human life in my uterus. “I wanna get home and rest.”

“I forced her to come tonight,” Josh added. He looked at you before exchanging looks with the other guys, emphasizing his point to help you out. “She has had her nose to the fucking grindstone. I insisted she needed a night out.”

“Forced her?” Jake scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “God, y/n. If you don’t want to come, then don’t come.”

You fumed at his words. What the fuck? Just minutes ago he was jumping to defend your song. “He didn’t force me,” you growled back at him. Don’t test a pregnant woman carrying your goddamn baby, Jacob. “What he meant was that he encouraged me to come since I haven’t been around for a while.”

“And why’s that?” Jake pushed, continuing to jest at you. Is this a game to you, asshole? 

“Jake,” Josh snapped, tone sharp and heated. 

“School,” you asserted (with a partial lie), shutting your eyes when you started seeing two of him. When you opened them to stare back at him, you focused hard as you continued to see four brown eyes instead of two. “But that’s not really any of your business is it, Jake?”

He was silent, his jaw clenching. Then he looked back to Maya, starting a conversation with her, effectively shutting you out. 

You weren’t sure how long you could put up with the hot and cold act from him. You knew that he was hurt, but you preferred the moments in recent times where he’d shown the soft side of his heart. The Jake side of his heart. 

The one flashing through your mind at this moment was on the night of the Halloween party. When he’d picked up the dropped brownies for you and then offered to help you carry stuff to your room. . . albeit he had been drunk. It’d still been him. You knew it. It was something he’d do. . . you knew him. 

And you knew him well enough to know when he was acting like an ass, it meant he was hurt. You weren’t oblivious to the recent hurt you’d inflicted on him. . . but why was he suddenly reacting like this again? Why now?

When another wave of dizziness took you over, you had to once again shut your eyes to keep your balance, and you held tight to the strap of your bag. Your head was also, once again, pulsing.

You opened your eyes and tried to stay steady, as you didn’t want to worry the three who cared. Pulling your phone from the pocket of your oversized hoodie, you shook your keys at the guys who still watched with concerned eyes. 

“Be safe,” Danny offered sympathetically, reaching a hand out. You grasped it, rubbing your thumb over the back. 

As soon as he let go, Sam was up and pulling you into a hug. Once he’d succeeded in killing your boobs again, he held onto your shoulders. “We miss you,” he said, breath thick with alcohol that was making your stomach turn. You held your breath and tapped at his hand politely before scooting back from him. “Love you, y/n.”

You repeated the phrase back to him before Josh got up, presumably to walk you to the door. “I promise I’ll start coming around more often again,” you told them. “I miss you, too.”

And just before you stepped to head toward the exit, you found Jake’s eyes again. 

They were softer now, showing concern he couldn’t hide at your current state. But there was still that fire behind them that you’d learned was purely Jake. And it made your heart thump a little harder in your chest.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The tiredness was unreal. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were so fucking exhausted. Everything that had been happening recently–the therapy, telling Josh that you were pregnant with his twin’s baby, being pregnant with said baby (and worrying that you weren’t), taking sixteen-fucking-hours of classes. . . it had been a lot. That much was obvious as hell. 

And tonight had been emotionally taxing for sure. . . and knowing you, you knew it was more than extremely possible that the emotions alone had been what’d finally done you in. Drained you for all you were worth.

Well, that, and the lack of food in your system. And the persistent barfing.

You'd been poring over the resources that Dr. Rose had given you access to. And, one of the links on their site had informed you that it was extremely possible for the fatigue to peak around this point of the pregnancy–ten to twelve weeks.

And considering you were right about at 12 or so, it was on the mark.

But when you’d read that, you hadn’t been expecting the feeling to be similar to that of being weighed down to the Earth by heavy-ass lead. You were dying to fall into bed and sleep off the exhaustion–right after taking a measly Tylenol for the pounding headache that’d been burgeoning for the past several minutes. 

All you could do at this specific moment, though, was focus on driving–and pulling into the apartment complex with as much precision as possible. The pain in your head was beginning to make your vision blurry and the things around you waved in ways you knew they weren’t supposed to. Goddamn. 

You finally made it to your parking space–by the grace of some higher entity. But, as soon as you tried to move to get out, everything around you began to spin at an accelerated speed. Moaning, you brought two shaking hands up to your eyes as you closed them. You started to count to ten, trying your best to take deep breaths–but even that was getting hard to do. Fuck. 

Finding your motherfucking bearings was proving to be a task and a half. 

And your head was just fucking throbbing relentlessly. 

“Dammit,” you groaned again, the words slurring just a bit. 

Somehow, though, you were able to make the trek from your car to the complex’s staircase–so close, yet so far, from your place. But you could feel the way your heart was thrumming quickly in your chest—just pounding against your ribcage from the basic action of walking.

Everything began waving around you again. You felt like you were floating and your head was becoming lighter and lighter by the second; the only reminder that it housed a brain was the raging, convulsing feeling in your skull. 

Your vision was incredibly blurry at best, as you looked from the base of the stairs, all the way up to the top. The top of the stairs was hardly visible. 

Shit. How the fuck am I going to climb these steps like this?

But, you weren’t able to contemplate it for much longer before everything started fading more and more, until you felt yourself falling and all you saw was a black abyss.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The hand you felt holding yours was the only thing that weighed you down to the white room. The other things that you immediately noticed: the sound of steady beeping (which was incessant) and the smell of antiseptic and bleach wafting from the bedding. 

The bed itself felt reminiscent of high quality cardboard, but the sheets were warmer than you would’ve expected. 

Letting your body relax back into the warm, polycotton sheets, you began to drift back to wherever you’d been. But you felt something hold you to the present. It was the someone with the hand who was helping to keep you conscious. The thumb that swept purposefully across the back of your hand tied you to the real world before you could escape to the one behind your eyelids.

Then you felt the hand holding yours squeeze the slightest bit tighter. Your lids were heavy when you squinted them open–immediately hating the way the fluorescent lighting assaulted your irises. You didn’t know if it was possible, but you were damned sure you could feel your pupils adjusting to the overbearing beams from the bulbs. 

Moaning, you reached your free hand up to cover your eyes. And when you did, you noticed the influx of tubes, taped to and sticking out of your hand. Specifically, the needle connected directly to your vein. What the fuck was going on?

Amidst your confusion, you finally processed who the hand was connected to as you heard his voice.

“Yes, yes,” Josh said in response to something. You noticed that he was seeming to squeeze your hand in little pulsing intervals. When you squeezed back to indicate you were awake, his eyes were immediately on you, abandoning his conversation. “Y/n? Oh, fuck,” his voice was thick with emotion. His gaze became wet as he checked your face over. “I was so worried about you.”

You didn’t know what to say, since you weren’t really sure why you were here or what had happened to get you here. . . All you could remember was being tired and dizzy with a pounding in your head. 

You tried to speak, but it was in vain, as your throat was dry as fuck. All that came from your lips was a measly croak. But, thankfully, Josh was immediately coming to your rescue with one of the hospital’s giant plastic cups, filled to the brim with water. He held the straw to your lips and you sat up a little to have better leverage to take a drink. To your surprise, the pounding in your head was gone, and there was no dizziness accompanying your movements. 

And no nausea – best part of all.

As soon as the water slipped past your lips, you shut your eyes in utter relief. Water had never tasted so good. You weren’t sure if water even had a taste, but at that moment, you swore it did and that it tasted like liquid gold would. 

Once you’d had enough for the moment, almost draining the large cup, you backed away and leaned into the pillows that awaited behind you. 

Sighing in relief, you tried to say words again. And this time, it worked. “What’s going on?” You slowly spoke, your head still feeling slightly airy. You let your eyes trail to Josh’s, questioning him. “Why am I here?”

Then, you started panicking. You shot up from where you’d settled against the pillows, clutching your stomach. The IV’s connected to your hand pulled at your skin, stinging. You ignored the pain though, and felt your tummy. It was still round, but obviously that didn’t mean– oh no. Your deepest fears came to life in your head, piece by terrifying piece. The baby. 

“Oh, fuck, Josh,” you said, your eyes were wild and immediately drew wetness, which ran steadily down your cheeks. No no no no no. “The baby? Is the baby–? Oh–.”

“Yes, yes,” Josh shushed you, running his free hand over the top of your head. “The baby is fine. Already checked and looks the same as it did a few days ago,” his eyes shone with reassurance. “Nothing is wrong with the baby.”

“Heartbeat?”

“Steady as can be.”

You felt your lungs fill with air again. “Okay,” you breathed out, leaning back into the pillows once more. “Okay.”

“But you on the other hand,” he started, his brow raising and eyes burning into yours. “You need to be giving yourself proper attention, mama.”

“I—?” You shook your head. You knew you weren’t the most attentive to yourself, but you’d tried very hard to be more self-serving recently in some regards. Longer showers, Friends, Cosmic Brownies (RIP) and pickles, therapy (if that counted). . . “I’ve been trying. . .” 

But the vomiting is proving some of that to be impossible, Joshua, you thought silently, snidely.

“What your friend is trying to tell you,” the doctor began. Your eyes shifted to her, an older woman with delicate features whose gray hair was pushed back by a pair of readers. Then her brows wrinkled. “Well—friend? Father of the baby?”

You both spoke at the same time.

“Oh, no—.”

“Not me,” Josh corrected with a laugh, his smile bright and humored underneath his new mustache. “That’s my brother’s baby in there.”

Ridiculously, you began to blush at hearing Josh say it out loud. You were learning that any time it came from his lips, it made your breath catch in your chest just a little.

Jake’s baby. 

“Oh, my apologies,” she smiled, her crows feet wrinkling, voice wise with years of experience. “I just wanted to proceed using the correct title to address you. Speaking of which, I am Dr. Stevens. It’s nice to meet you, Miss y/n.”

“Same to you,” you answered with a tiny, unsure smile and nod. “Thank you.”

Dr. Stevens hummed, then came to sit on the end of the bed, same side as Josh. You eyed her curiously as her expression turned a touch more serious. “Miss y/n,” she said, sounding like you’d imagine a caring mother would. “You are here because your iron was frighteningly low,” she said, concerned and checking your chart. “If it had gone untreated one more night, you would have been incredibly ill and unable to function properly at all come morning.”

“What?” You asked, shocked. Anemia wasn’t a new thing to you, you’d always had it. How had it intensified so quickly? “I mean, sure, I’ve always had mild anemia. Just kind of a thing that’s been there . . .haven’t thought about it in years, actually,” (because of some damn triggering, buried memories attached to it). “But I’ve never had – it’s never been as. . . Intense as this,” you held up your hand that was covered in tape and inserted tubes.

“Well, honey, you’re carrying a baby now who also needs those vital nutrients to help it develop,” she counseled. “And proper hydration,” she reminded. You nodded, eyes zoned in on your hands, full with pieces of plastic and tape, and not her face. When Dr. Stevens spoke next, her voice was the most stern it’d been so far. “And prenatal vitamins– those are essential for you and the baby.”

Your eyes flicked up to hers. The way she pierced you with her stare made you lean back like a scolded puppy. Your tail would have been between your legs if you had one.

Why hadn’t you bought any damned prenatals yet? Fuck all.

“Yes ma’am. I don’t know why I haven’t been taking–,” you tried, huffing. You were ashamed of yourself. “God, I feel bad,” you placed two hands on your tummy and looked down at it through the hospital gown you’d been changed into. “How has all of it not harmed the baby?”

“Well, again, tomorrow would have been a completely different story had you not been rushed in tonight,” she reminded, talking you through it slowly. “But we’ve got fluids pumping through you to get you back to normal.” She motioned to Josh, you looked at him with a small smile that he reciprocated. “And your friend has promised to take you for a prenatal run tomorrow morning. To find the ones that you feel might suit you best.” Dr. Stevens smiled, looking over at your bedside table. Your eyes followed, seeing the small medicine bottle sitting there, waiting for you. “For now, I have a couple ready to send home with you,” she assured.

“I’ve never been the best at prioritizing my health,” you mumbled, messing with a loose thread on the hospital gown. Josh held the hand that was anxiously picking at the material, making you stop. You looked over to see his kind, encouraging eyes. “I have ingrained my brain with several unhealthy, learned habits,” you admitted, finally looking at Dr. Stevens again. “So I guess this was a reality check of sorts. That it’s not just me anymore. I can’t just ignore what I need to acknowledge.”

You didn’t know what was inspiring the constant flow of transparently deep emotions to all of these unknown people in your life, but you weren’t totally opposed to it anymore. 

Dr. Stevens’ face contorted to show that she had sympathy. You were relieved. But when she spoke next, her voice was firm. “You’re right. This baby is forcing you to take care of yourself so he or she can survive and come out healthy and happy. I believe this baby is teaching you some proper life skills. But you need to be eating well to help this child have a good, healthy time in the womb. . .help him or her thrive at this vital stage in its life.”

God. She was right. You had seen the words Failure to Thrive on multiple sources you’d checked out about pregnancy. . . .always just skimmed past them, as it didn’t seem to pertain to you. But, of course it did. The vomiting. Not taking prenatals (seriously, what the fuck, y/n?). The lack of eating anything (save for the baby pickles). . .

You’d been so in your head about the present state of your health that you hadn’t taken nearly enough time to consider the baby. 

“I’ve just never been bad about eating. This is new,” you confided. “And it’s just gotten worse this past week or so. . . I haven’t been able to eat. Everything has made me want to vomit.” Then you decided to add, “Well, everything besides pickles. They’ve been my only source of any nutrients – which I know is pathetic, by the way – I just–just can’t even be in the same room as most food, much less eat it.”

“You’re experiencing a severe case of hyperemesis gravidarum, which is just a fancy way of saying that you’re excessively vomiting during your pregnancy. It’s due to a drastic change in hormones. Your HCG levels are through the roof, where they’re usually not. Most women just have to suffer through it,” she said in response, handing you sheet with the fancy medical term at the top. “That is an information sheet. Keeps you informed on the ins and outs of why you might be experiencing it.” She sighed before going on. “It will pass, honey. Give it a few more weeks and you should be over the worst of it – if not before. But being anemic makes it that much worse,” she explained, flipping her readers over her eyes and looking through the papers on her fancy clipboard. “You’ve just gotta stay on top of those preexisting conditions.”

“And not taking the prenatals. . .,” she scolded, making you look up from scanning the sheet. She gave you a look. “Is what has you in this condition. You should also be taking an additional iron supplement. I’m. . . sure you didn’t tell your OB about your previous anemia?” She wondered aloud. 

“No,” you murmured. “I really haven’t seen it present itself since I was really young. And it wasn’t really severe. . . at least I don’t think,” you rubbed your forehead, suddenly experiencing several sad moments in time. From a long time ago. So, once again, you bared your heart and explained.  “There are things from my childhood that I’ve forgotten. And even though I do actually know I experienced bouts of it during that time, I haven’t ever really acknowledged it because I just kind of forced myself to forget about it.”

Really, for some godforsaken reason, thinking about your anemia only brought back very unwelcome flashes of your mother’s house. . . and other dirty places you didn’t want to think about. Hence why you’d blocked it out.

Josh squeezed your hand– tried to bring you back.

Thankfully, Dr. Stevens continued before the thoughts could take over. “I am sorry, honey,” she said, empathetic. But, she continued on professionally. “The hard truth is that some of the things that have always sort of laid dormant can come back with a raging force during pregnancy. . . simply considering that the pregnancy is essentially a revamp on your body,” she paused when you chuckled at the word ‘revamp’. Yeah, right. She smirked at it, too. “I know, funny word choice. Doesn’t always feel like you’re revamping,” she flipped to the next page in her chart. “What I mean is, things can come back up and be bigger–stronger–than before. One more thing that is changing and increasing in your body. Medical conditions from the past may come back and get more ‘intense’,” she winked at you, using your word from earlier. “But, it’s important: now that the anemia has shown itself again – so aggressively –  at a time that your body is already very vulnerable. . .” She sighed, flipping her readers back into her dark gray hair before unclipping a paper from the chart and handing it to you. “It’s time we get a handle on all of it before it possibly shows its ugly face again.”

The sheet she handed you included several foods that you could eat to remedy the morning sickness. Some of which had made you feel like puking – or actually puke. But, there were a few things you didn’t have at home. Boring, bland foods. Things you just never bought. A few fruits and vegetables. . .

And a shit ton of vitamins.

“A lot of plain Jane stuff on there, I know. And vitamins, vitamins, vitamins,” she acknowledged. “But those supplements and bland diet are what will see you through the dark ages of this morning sickness. We need to treat that first. And then, you should be able to ease yourself into other foods and get your iron levels healthy again for you and your baby. Please focus on following that guide of foods and vitamins and just call my extension – which I attached to the top of that sheet – if you have any issues.” 

She then passed one more sheet over to you and added one more piece of information. “This sheet will include the Hemoglobin Kit I’ve ordered for you and it will be sent to the address your friend provided for us within the next few days. Please be using it to check your hemoglobin levels. Hemoglobin is the main component of red blood cells–a protein– that we need to see at normal levels. I’ve included where your levels should be on that sheet. They should never be too low or too high. Please read the information on the sheet and in the kit to answer any additional questions you may have. This will help you to track of how your levels are doing and if your anemia is spiking again,” she said, her voice seeming to drone on and on in your ears. “And again, call if you have any questions or concerns.”

As you continued reading through the paper, she unclipped another and handed it over to you.

You really were thankful for the documents, really, but dear god there were a lot of them. Virtually and physically. From your OB visit and tonight. It was overwhelming . . . made your skin feel tight and overheated.

It was also a lot of information for you to over-fucking-think. 

I’ll have to take them to Gia. She’ll help me sort through them, you reassured yourself, taking a deep breath in and out to calm the nerves. 

“And the morning sickness should. . . pass sooner rather than later?” Josh’s question broke through your reverie. Your eyes shut to refocus on the present moment and not the papers.

“It should, yes. For most women, it does,” the graying doctor confirmed. “You’re. . .how far along? I’d estimate about eleven, maybe twelve weeks?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “Twelve weeks according to my OB.”

“Yep. You should only have a few weeks – or less – left. Just try the foods on that sheet. The vitamins. Stay hydrated. There are several recommended supplements the sheet provides. You can find most all of them on Amazon.” 

You handed the sheets over to Josh, needing them away from you for the time being. You needed to be in the now. Needed to focus on anything else the aging, wise doctor may need to say. 

To put it plainly, tonight’s event landing you in the hospital had you scared shitless. And learning as much as possible from her would hopefully wind up putting your mind at ease. . . though, at this moment, it just had your heart rate increasing rather quickly.

She eyed the monitor next to your bed, moving closer to it as she observed something. “There goes that heart rate again,” she squinted at the vitals once more before pushing her glasses into her hair. She looked down at her chart, her lips pursing and readers going back on as she checked it over. “That’s another thing I want to address,” she hummed, sitting next to your legs, facing you and Josh from her seat. “Have you been under a lot of stress lately? A major change? Besides the baby? Mentally, perhaps? Emotionally?” She questioned. “Because while your iron levels were scarily low, your heart rate was also dramatically high. Which, yes, is related to the iron levels. . . but, I thought I’d go ahead and check as more often than not, it can pertain to an extreme amount of stress your heart is under from other sources.”

You stuttered out a response that involved you beginning therapy for the first time in years. You tried to touch on how you were experiencing a lot of emotions around what you would eventually be talking about in therapy. . . how you’d already bared your heart to Gia and opened up every single gate possible to effectively begin therapy. 

“I wanted to do it. Still do," you explained, needing Dr. Stevens to know that. “I would do it all over again right now if I needed to. She’s already helped me so much – after only one session, just with me basically projectile vomiting my past and emotions all over the room.” You took a breath, before finishing. “It doesn’t make it any less difficult though. It hurts. Physically, it hurts to talk about it all. I know it will all come together in the end. I trust the process–I trust my therapist. But it was extremely taxing – on top of everything else I’m feeling right now.” You glanced over at Josh before adding, “The baby’s father is. . . he’s just. . .”

“A lot,” Josh finished with a half-chuckle. “He’s a very good guy. He’s just a lot.”

“I have a lot of feelings about everything happening in my life right now, I’ll just say that,” you ventured to tell her. “And I had somewhat of a handle on my anxiety and depression before I got pregnant, but it’s also been something to resurface in a brand new way with the pregnancy hormones. Without me even knowing it sometimes. And before I know it, my heart is actually hurting my chest from the amount of pressure I’m putting myself under.”

Josh scooted his chair over closer to you and wrapped one of your hands in two of his, holding on tightly.

“It hasn’t all really clicked until now. . . that all of it might be related to my. . . issues,” you confirmed aloud, peeking over at Josh just briefly before looking back to Dr. Stevens. You’d just spilled your entire heart and it was making you feel extremely uneasy. God, she hadn’t asked to hear all of that. “I’m so sorry about spilling all of whatever that was,” you waved your hands around before combing them through your hair, trying to breathe deep breaths. You found her eyes, which you now realized were green. “I really–god, fuck. I’m– that was a lot for you to hear and you didn’t ask for the whole–.”

“I needed to hear it all,” she consoled you, tapping a comforting hand on the top bed sheet, rather than your leg. “It helps me assess the situation. . . and from what I’ve heard, it sounds like the most probable cause of you fainting tonight was due to the iron deficiency and your heart.” She assessed the numbers on the blinking monitor yet again. “It just hasn’t slowed much since you’ve been here, sweetie. Even with the medications we’ve given you to temporarily alleviate it, it’s still been sitting at around 120 beats per minute. And since you’ve been awake, it’s spiked enough to cause some concern to this doctor.”

As she expressed her concern again for your thrumming heart, (which you had noticed an increase in it’s pounding as of late) it began beating a little harder once again, causing an unpleasant tightness within your sternum. You winced. 

Josh noted the change almost as quickly as you did. His hands that held onto yours began squeezing even tighter, the skin of his palms now wet and clammy. He brought your hand, wrapped in his, up to his chin. The hair on his chin was unfamiliar to the last time you’d touched his face (who even knew when you last did that), but it still felt familiar enough against your knuckles to calm some of your nerves.

You couldn’t help but look at him with wide, fearful eyes. His eyes were steady on you, his attention only breaking from you to look at Dr. Stevens with a nonverbal note of worry for you. 

She stood from the bed and came to stand beside you, inserting the buds to the stethoscope around her neck, and held the circular part to your back. “Cough for me, sweetie,” she told you, her calm demeanor forcing you to come back from your momentary freak out. “Make it a big one.”

You found it to be an odd request, but you weren’t in any place to question this doctor who had shown you nothing but kindness. And offered help when you, apparently, so desperately needed it.

You did as she said, and forced the best cough you could muster. It instantly relieved the tension in your chest, even lowered your heart rate a bit as you watched the blinking numbers begin to drop on the screen. 

“Wh-what was that? Am I having a heart attack?” You felt silly asking her that. . .but you didn’t know any better, it may as well have been your body plummeting straight into a cardiac arrest. 

This was all a lot, and now you were very hyper aware of every little change in your heart that you felt, saw, or heard from the screen.

She chuckled softly, taking the stethoscope away from her ears, hanging once again around her neck. She watched your vitals intently as the blood pressure cuff attached to your left arm (that you hadn’t noticed yet) began squeezing you rather uncomfortably. 

“You’re not having a heart attack, my dear. Not even close,” she reassured. Although, you still felt the worry present in the pit of your tummy that you were unknowingly clutching again. “I am no stranger to the intense effects of anxiety. I’ve seen it time and time again. I think that was a big part of the palpitation episode you experienced a few minutes ago and the persistent increase in your heart rate I've seen so far tonight. However, I would like to conduct a little further testing. Just want to be sure your heart is nice and strong – for you and for the baby.”

You felt the air from Josh’s lungs release against your knuckles as he let out the breath he must’ve been holding, squeezing your hand just as tight as before. As terrified as you were, his presence provided the safety net your spirit needed to not be thrown back in a massive panic attack. 

She sat down on the bed next to you once again, her kind eyes offering little comfort right now as you start to feel overwhelmed with the sudden discovery of so many things that were apparently wrong with your body.

“If you can remember, have you ever been rather sensitive to the heat? Maybe suffered from heat strokes during your youth?” 

Her question had your mind yet again returning to your past that had been kept securely behind a locked door with no key. A place you didn’t venture often. 

But it did bring forth some hazy recollections of your days as a child, playing outside in the thick,  dry summer heat. How you couldn’t stand to be out in it for very long without feeling. . . faint. And dizzy. So fucking dizzy. 

A long since forgotten trait of yours that you never thought to pay any mind to. 

“Um– yeah, actually. Now that I think about it, Summers were always a challenge. I couldn’t stand being outside for much longer than a few minutes some days without feeling like I could pass out or throw up,” you huffed a humorless laugh at the memories playing back in your head. Miserable times. “It was. . .fucking awful.” 

You’d suddenly started to remember all the times you felt faint as a child. But it wasn’t always from the rise in temperature. Sometimes, it was from the stresses your mom tossed your way, the fights, the troubles that brewed in your home. It became more and more clear that fainting was most definitely not new to you. You just couldn’t remember. 

“Okay,” Dr. Stevens continued, her hand now patting your shin as she seemed to pick up on the unease of remembering your past. “What about when you go to stand up after a period of being seated or lying down, does your vision become a bit obscured at times? Like you’re seeing stars? Tunneled vision, maybe?”

“I mean, y-yeah,” you stuttered. “Sometimes. But it doesn't last for very long. Doesn’t everybody experience that, though?”

You had no clue where she was going with all of these questions— questions that she seemingly already knew the answers to. Of what it all meant, you weren’t sure. But you knew you needed her to cut to the chase soon before you began plummeting even further down the anxious path you’d started paving. 

“What does it mean? Is this something I should be worried about?” You asked through newly developed tears you had no control over. 

Your mind was running rampant with only one singular thought: the baby. What does this mean for the baby? 

“You don’t need to worry, sweetie. This is actually a lot more common than you think.”

She stood up from the bed, unclipping one more piece of paper from the board she’d been holding prior to sitting down. She handed it over to you, the paper weighing your hand down with what you were to find on it. 

But before you could begin to worry about what was on it, she was explaining it to you.

“That sheet is going to inform you on the ins and outs of Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, most commonly referred to as POTs,” she seriously informed, her eyebrows dipping to show concern for your worries that you knew were painted all over your face. 

“That’s a funny name,” Josh giggled, the breath from the laugh he’d let out fanned against your knuckles. “Like pots and pans. . . you know?”

You wanted to slap him because, shut the fuck up, Josh, now is not the time, but. . . try as you might, it actually calmed you down a bit. You couldn’t help the tiny ghost of a grin that floated over your lips.

Dr. Stevens glared at him, causing him to stop his little joke, before she continued on. “POTs,” she enunciated the name while flashing her eyes to Josh, “is nothing to be concerned with, but it is a valid heart condition that does require a bit more testing to confirm if it’s present or not. Just to be safe.” 

You peered down at the sheet in front of you and the bolded print that you tried so fucking hard to not be too overwhelmed by. It wasn’t the worst possible condition, but it was still a fucking heart condition that you could possibly have. And with everything else that’d happened tonight and your current life predicament. . . it was causing your head to spin.

Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS) is a condition that causes a number of symptoms when you transition from lying down to standing up, such as a fast heart rate, dizziness and fatigue. While there’s no cure, several treatments and lifestyle changes can help manage the symptoms of POTS.

As you read the small print across the page, she told you exactly what it was she suspected you had. “To put it plainly, your heart can’t pump blood quickly enough to your body, resulting in a higher heart rate and a lower blood pressure that can sometimes cause you to faint.” She came close to your bedside again, “If you don’t mind, I am going to need to listen to your heart again.” 

It took you a bit to come to, but when you did, you finally nodded in response. She placed the cold end of the stethoscope against your chest while securing the buds in her ears to listen to you.

“This, combined with your lack of eating that caused the extremely low iron levels could have developed from your pregnancy. Although, I’m willing to bet they’ve been present your entire life. Certain instances can trigger them. Stress, severe anxiety, or pregnancy. In your case, dear, I’d say it’s all of the above. A bit of a trifecta, you could say. The ingredients for the perfect, terrifying storm.” 

“Jesus, mama," Josh breathed, his lips faintly brushed over your knuckles as he continued to hold your hand close to his face. “You have got to start taking care of yourself. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

You knew that. God, you knew that. It had always been easier said than done. But it was no longer all about you anymore; the moment the life began growing within you, it gave you a newfound motivation to take care of yourself for the little life you were now responsible for.

“What other testing needs to be done?” You asked. You were hesitant of what her answer would be, but if it provided a step in the right direction towards becoming the healthiest version of yourself that you could possibly be, you were all ears.

“There’s a specific test, a tilt table test, that must be done to provide us with a little more insight to the specifics of your case. However, it’s not safe to perform it while you're pregnant,” she explained. “So for now, I’m just going to send in for a heart monitor that will be delivered to your house in the next week or so. You’ll wear it for four weeks and that'll give us plenty of information in the meantime. I’m also going to refer you to one of the best cardiologists we have on staff here.”

A heart monitor? That sounded utterly terrifying to you. 

“I am also going to insist that you keep track of your hemoglobin levels daily,” she continued. “You can also buy your own blood pressure cuff to partner with the hemoglobin kit we have set to deliver at your doorstep. You should be able to apply your insurance to the purchase of the blood pressure cuff, if you decide to include that step as well,” Stevens took a deep breath before going on. “Keep a daily journal to log your numbers. Just a notebook to track your blood pressure and hemoglobin levels. It’s vital that you do these things, y/n. Fainting like this can not be a normal occurrence. It’s not good for you or the baby.” When she spoke next, you felt your heart leap into your throat. “The lasting effects on you or the fetus could be life threatening if you’re not careful. . . could be terribly detrimental to the baby’s development—specifically his or her little body or brain development.”

Life threatening. Detrimental. Baby’s development. Little body or brain development.

You heard your heart rate go up on the monitor, but you weren’t about to freak yourself out any further by looking at the changing numbers. You literally felt your pulse quicken and your breath become shallow in your throat as you struggled to take full breaths.

Focus on the now. Focus on what is real. What is right now. Baby is not in trouble yet. 

You have time.

You brought a thumb and middle finger up to your temple, rubbing away furiously to relieve the oncoming headache that had been simmering at the surface for the past several minutes. Your other hand found its home on your swollen belly.

It was all so overwhelming–staggering, really, and you weren’t prepared for any of it in the slightest. 

But, then again, how would someone prepare? You felt as if you were living in a brand new body, much different from the one you’d lived your whole life in up to this point. There was so fucking much out of your control and unknown. It was all pushing down, heavily, on your already-tense shoulders.

“Relax, mama,” Josh sensed your tension, and knowing you as well as he did, he knew it was time to start helping you articulate the right questions. He brushed his thumb across the back of your hand as he calmly asked, “What do we need to do if her numbers aren’t. . . normal? What are some measures we can take to get them to where they need to be?” 

The fact that he was willing to stand alongside you during this whole thing, that he wanted to, it was such a comforting thing to know at this moment. Not that you had any doubt in your mind, but hearing him say something as simple as ‘we’. . . it just warmed your heart completely. 

“Lots of fluids,” she answered through a sincere smile. “And an increase in your salt intake to help your body maintain those fluids.” She handed you yet another sheet and sat back down next to you, looking you in the eye with a stern, motherly expression. “That should help you out with foods to eat and fluids to drink, in addition to the sheet from earlier. But, honey, you need to change your diet. It’s essential that you incorporate healthy eating habits at this point in your pregnancy. After you’ve gotten your body accustomed to the bland foods on the other list I’ve supplied you, you need to start adding lots of iron heavy foods to your meals. Meats, leafy greens, rice. . . things of that nature.” She searched your eyes, hers kind and knowledgeable from years in the field. “Alright?”

You nodded your head in confirmation, wondering how the hell you were going to make that happen with the way normal food left you utterly disgusted at the present time. 

“We’ll make sure of that, doc,” Josh responded in your place, throwing a wink at you as he knew damn well how horrible your food aversions had been. 

“M-my therapy,” you found your voice. “It’s going to be intense. It will cause my body stress.” Dr. Stevens looked at you quizzically before you went on, “It’s called EMDR therapy. Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing; although, I’m sure you’ve heard of it in your profession. I don’t know all of the logistics yet, but I know it’s not a conventional form of therapy. What do I do if I wish to continue that? Should I continue it?”

“It should be safe, as long as you make sure to have a thorough discussion with your therapist after each session. That is dire in helping your body and your mind process it all in a healthy manner. In order to have a healthy body, you must also take care of your mind, especially in those circumstances. I do want you to consult with your therapist over how much stress you’ll be able to handle at any given time. Don’t let your mind go too far. If you have a good therapist, they’ll know the signs if you’ve had enough, though, don’t be afraid to tell them.” 

If there was one thing you did know about all this uncertainty, it was that you could trust Gia to not lead you astray, or towards anything that would be detrimental to your mental health. 

Dr. Stevens smiled, her clipboard once again tight in her grip before she stepped further to the curtained room you were shielded by. “Do you have any more questions?” 

Josh glanced at you, waiting for you to say anything or waiting for you to communicate something for him to say on your behalf. You were sure you had questions, but you were just fucking flooded with stress to the point that all you wanted to do was sleep. . . just ready to get home.

Also, seeing as it was an emergency room, the idea was to get patients in and out. Wasn’t supposed to be the length of a standard visit. 

You’d taken up too much of her time.

So, you shook your head at Josh and then looked to Dr. Stevens to tell her no thank you.

And when you did, you glanced down at the name on her coat and the name of the hospital stitched into the white fabric. You hadn’t even noticed. . . .  Cedars-Sinai.

Same hospital I’ll have the baby at, if all goes according to plan, you suddenly realized, the thought bringing you a weird sense of peace. And it will go according to plan.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Josh went about gathering up all of the documents that had been handed to you and the prenatal pills provided as a nurse came in to disconnect all of your tubes and shit. He'd waited outside the curtain. and asked the nurse a few more questions as you'd changed back into your clothes.

And on the ride home, he’d put on peaceful music over the speaker of the car. He was used to doing it when you rode in his car as you hated riding in it. But tonight? Tonight you found comfort in the hunk of creaking metal. 

Because it meant you were going home. 

When you got home, Josh helped you up to the apartment and went about opening the front door and setting up your bed for you. All while you brushed your teeth, pulled up your hair that smelled like hospital, and changed into your comfiest PJs. 

Just as he’d tucked you in and was about to leave, you pulled on his hand and begged for him to stay. You really didn’t want to be alone for the night, mumbling as much to him. 

So, like the perfect friend he was, he set up a pallet on the floor as you tossed him a pillow from your bed. 

And to your solace, sleep found you as soon as your head hit the satin of your pillowcase. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 14, 2022

Every Monday being your therapy day was honestly the perfect way to start your week. You’d decided that on the way to the counseling practice on the chilly November afternoon of your second appointment.

You already knew it would be like it had been before. Before, (on your first and only other visit before today’s) it had just felt like a breath of fresh air to talk to a licensed professional like Gia. She was just fucking amazing. And you knew every week would be like before: a fresh start with a confidant who could give you killer fucking advice. A little date of sorts with a licensed professional who was positively eager to help you get through your week (life, generally) the best you possibly could.

Well, at least your therapist was eager to do that. 

Even as you sat on her trendy, camel-colored leather couch for your second appointment, you felt completely comfortable and at ease with Gia. She had already become one of your favorite people. 

You’d spent the first thirty minutes or so filling her in on telling Josh, your first prenatal exam (also showed her the sonogram pictures, which she’d loved), and the emergency visit. No details had been spared and you made sure she had time to give you any advice or words of wisdom she deemed necessary. But she’d really just let you have the floor and talk. 

Once you wrapped up your scary details from the night of the E.R., handed over all of the documents you wanted to sort through with her, and talked through them until you felt more ease about all of the anemia and heart shit, she’d looked at you seriously. 

Pinned you with a stare, her eyes sparkling like emeralds as she thoughtfully assessed you. 

She sat down her tea, and then wheeled herself over to you. Her oversized sweater was a turtle neck that matched the color of her couch, and the too-long sleeves of it touched your hands as she grasped them loosely in her hands. “Y/n,” she began, peering at you openly through her circular, wire framed-lenses, “We do not have to do EMDR. I want to remind you, it is entirely up to you if you choose to go that route. If you are fearful of it causing too much stress, I understand wanting to venture down another therapeutic route.”

“No,” you shook your head, a small smile curled the corner of your lips to reassure her. “I want to do it. I believe it’s what will work best to get to the heart of things. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she agreed, brow knitted. “I just don’t want you to feel any unnecessary stress during this vulnerable time in your life.”

“As long as you promise to help me wrap it all up with a good talk at the end of each appointment,” you suggested with hope evident in your tone. “To wrap it up as much as we can for me to make it through the week.”

She grinned. “I can do that,” she affirmed with one certain nod, her loose bun, full of her soft blonde hair bounced with the action. “Did the doctor recommend continuing it?”

“Yep. Said it shouldn’t be an issue if we manage to discuss it all at the end of each session,” you offered. “Doesn’t want me carrying around anything unresolved that could make my stress levels increase.”

“Well, that’s definitely doable,” she confirmed with a wide grin. Scooting back, she grabbed her tea from the repurposed desk in the corner of her office before propping her ankle on top of her bent knee. “So, if you do wish to continue with EMDR, I’ll go ahead and explain it a little better than I have yet.”

“I do,” you said as a final agreement. “What should I know before we start?”

So, Gia proposed EMDR and all of the benefits that could come from the specific form of therapy. You listened to every detail readily. Were you scared? Yes. Were you anxious to begin? Also yes. It was intriguing and a little exciting to be so close to finally diving deep into the curves and corners of your mind and memories. 

Once she’d finished with that, she was rolling her chair back over to you and placing her elbows on the ends of her thighs as she bent to talk intimately with you. When she spoke, the smell of spearmint on her breath was oddly calming. “There’s something I feel I should mention before we begin. A bit of a warning that you should heed. Some clients experience this, some don’t. But something to be aware of, nonetheless.” 

Your eyes widened at her use of the word ‘warning,’ and her sudden change in tone made you believe this was something a little more serious. You knew there were risks involved with this somewhat unconventional form of therapy, but you hadn’t let yourself delve into all of them just yet. You had tried your best to leave the ball in Gia’s court to explain it all to you. 

And you knew that anything deemed risky, Gia would let you know of them before you agreed. Any online research wouldn't be nearly as viable as it would be coming straight from Gia’s mouth. 

Still yet, your heart beat just a little faster in preparation for whatever she had to tell you.

Deep breaths, y/n.

“Tell me,” you asserted. In search of some extra comfort, you placed a hand on your belly, the pulse vibrating in your palm also immediately triggered the fear in you that your heart was possibly over exerting itself.

Deep. Breaths. Gia’s got this. She won’t let you do anything too risky to your health. She wouldn’t let you.

“Some people report experiencing rather intense flashbacks that can come unannounced. And when I say intense, I truly mean just that, y/n. If they come, they can be debilitating.” 

This was the first you had seen her eyes downturned, a picture of worry painted within her emerald green irises. “There have also been accounts of severe nightmares—well, more along the lines of night terrors. The kind that can wake you up in a panic. I just want you to be aware of these possibilities before we begin. I need you to promise me right now, that if these things do happen, you’ll call me. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, you have to call me, and I will answer.” 

Middle of the day? They could come then, too? Shit.

“Is it. . .  really that serious?” You took a moment to ponder your question, not entirely sure what to make of it all just yet. (And you couldn’t help but wonder if Jake found out about these little occurrences during his research before bringing the idea up to you.)

“It can be,” she noted with a stern tone that sent yet another wave of anxiety through your tense muscles. “That’s why I need you to make me that promise. That isn’t something you should ever experience alone. As I said, it can be debilitating.”

Your mind began turning furiously with the thought of having to experience flashbacks. Would they be flashbacks to things you already remembered? Or worse. . . things you didn’t? Both?

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew the answer and it was honestly terrifying to you.

For a split second, you started to doubt whether or not this was the right solution for you. But, you couldn’t deny any longer that you did need the help. You had to be better. For you and for the life that was growing inside of you. The baby needed a healed mother. 

And you knew Gia was the perfect person to guide you through it. You trusted her, and that was something that has never come easily for you. 

“I’ll admit,” you began, still holding tight to your belly, reminding yourself of the growing reason why you needed to do this. “I’m nervous. But I still want to do it. I promise I’ll call you when— if— that happens. . . but, what if you’re not available?”

“Don’t be nervous. You’ve got this.” She flashed you her sparkling white teeth in a smile that put your spirit right back at ease. “And I do my best to answer. It’s my job as your therapist to see you through this. Some don’t take it as seriously as I do, but I know that you’ll need me in your corner and I’m happy to be there. I signed up for this, just like you did,” she grinned, once again using her feet to scoot her back to her desk, in her plush, light pink chair. “But, on the off chance I’m not able to answer, I would immediately contact someone you trust to see you through it. Hold you. Talk to you. Just be there with you. Whatever you need. Someone who would be willing to do that.” She opened her laptop before turning to you, an idea seeming to spark in her mind. “As a matter of fact, before our next session, why don’t you make it your assignment to think of the person you’ll go to in situations like that? Just one person for now and if you think of more, then double whammy.”

She winked, and you just sent a barely-there grin back to her in response. As she went about clicking open tabs on her computer, you knew you didn’t need until next session to think of your person. 

Because as soon as she started talking about that person, you were back in the hallway of your grandparents’ home – right outside your bedroom. And the person next to you right then and there. . . he was the one you wanted with you if the terrors hit. 

Not Josh. Not even Elsie. 

But Jake. 

Would he be okay with that though? Would it be worth asking him?

Gia was once again speaking as she clicked through a few buttons on her laptop. “Y/n? You okay, love?” 

You looked up, finding her eyes waiting for yours. “Oh–oh, yeah,” you stretched your lips to make the best smile you could. “Just being an overachiever and already brainstorming my person to contact.”

She hummed, giving you a sneaky smirk. “Does it happen to be a certain roommate of yours?”

Eyes bugging, you were shocked that she’d guessed. But were you really? She sorta kinda (definitely) knew the depths of your heart. She'd probably known who you’d want to pick as soon as you'd known it. 

Nodding sheepishly, you decided to ask, “Is that a bad idea?”

“I don’t believe so,” she assured. “From what you’ve told me about him, he seems like a pretty good guy and I think he’d be more than willing to help you if you needed him.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s also super convenient because he lives with you,” she insisted with a final wink before she said, “Anything I might’ve forgotten will be in the PowerPoint I’m about to send to your email. But, I’ve gotta say, I’ve done it enough times with enough clients, I think I’ve covered every base for today.” A few beats of silence passed before she triumphantly pressed a button. “Aaand, sent!” 

Then, wheeling back over to you, her pristinely white Nikes made the smallest squeak on the stained concrete floor of her office. “Okay, so today,” she began. “How are we feeling?”

“Really good,” you confidently responded, wiping your palms against your leggings before a true smile fit to your features. “When will we start?”

“I think next session we will find your safe place,” she said with a raise of her brow. “I will explain what I mean by ‘safe place’ next time, and directly after, we will send you there. Try not to worry about it until then, okay?” She requested, eyes searching yours for an answer. To which, you nodded. She continued with a grin. “For today, I want to call it quits with the EMDR talk. . . Let you rest. Unless. . . you have any questions, of course. . . .”

You wracked your brain, and when you couldn’t think of anything immediately, you told her you didn’t have any questions. 

“Come with some next time if you think of any. And, my email is always open in between visits if needed–even if it’s just a minor inquiry you have,” she reminded. “Oh! And I’m not sure if I mentioned this yet. . . but, if we need to ever schedule an emergency visit over Zoom or in the office. . . that is also always, always on the table. I know that these things get heavy, and I want to be here for you through all of it, y/n.”

“Got it.”

Although, something did come to your mind as you were both standing to leave the session. You hadn’t given the question much thought in your own mind (shockingly). It had entered your wave of thought the day of your first prenatal appointment. When you’d asked Josh. 

But since then, your mind had been too preoccupied with everything else that had recently happened that this thought had been put on the backburner. 

But, you were curious what her opinion was on the matter, now that it had resurfaced. 

Right before she opened the door, delicate hand on the handle, you grew sweaty. But you needed to ask the question, because if you didn’t do it now, it would be tormenting you until next Monday. 

So, you asked her the same question you’d asked Josh.

“When should I tell Jake about the baby?”

She turned her shoulder, her eyes stern when she responded. “Soon. . . sooner rather than later. Just focus on what is real.”

Sooner rather than later. . . same exact words Josh had said.

-🌼🌼🌼-

It had been a long day of classes and the short shift at the Black and Gold after your classes had completely wiped you out. 

When you got home, all you’d wanted to do was take a nap to sleep off the exhaustion from the short day. Before pregnancy, you wouldn’t be hitting a wall so early in the day, but now that you were, you could hardly function after going nonstop for more than a few hours. 

Your body was functioning in overdrive, trying to produce enough energy to sustain two lives. . . and you were still getting used to it. Honestly, you weren’t sure you would ever get used to it.

But before your nap. . . you wanted to take some time to release some of the soreness in your changing body with a warm shower. You were sure to grab a towel from the dryer because, even though you knew Jake wasn’t supposed to be home for a few hours, you still didn’t want to risk him seeing you. The idea of him seeing any slight changes on your body made you cringe. You weren’t sure if you felt comfortable in your body yet, so you definitely didn’t want him seeing it. 

There was also the enormous, glaring factor of him seeing the changes and realizing what was going on. You really still just looked bloated (albeit very, very bloated). . . but you had a feeling that he would catch on. He’d gotten very used to what your body looked like for the better part of the summer, so you could see him noticing your stomach protruding more than it ever did before. 

He’d know. . . you just had a feeling.

After a day of trying to wear regular jeans, you’d decided it was a bad idea to wear your normal sized jeans anymore. The tight waistband had cut into your abdomen all day and squeezed you like a motherfucker. Thankfully, there’d been a lull in customers before the end of your shift, and the oversized sweater you’d worn had provided enough coverage for you to unbutton the jeans when you were alone in the store. 

But when you finally got to take them off, you breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the confines of the stiff clothing. And the big, fluffy sweater had gotten to be too warm by the end of your shift, so taking that off had also been extremely relieving as well. 

After you’d tied your hair back and heated the shower a little cooler than your usually steaming hot showers, you had to get used to the temperature as you stood and lathered up your belly, giving yourself your daily time to just observe how it was growing. Ever since your visit to the E.R., you’d become more conscientious of how it was growing.

You were new to this pregnancy thing. You didn’t know if it meant your baby was okay or not if your belly wasn’t growing at a certain rate.

To your utter relief, over the past few days, you had finally been able to eat more–following the lists of food Dr. Stevens had given you. You occasionally got nauseous, but the puking had limited significantly with the suggested bland, healthier foods and constant Ginger Ale (which you’d actually found much more delicious and helpful to your twisty stomach than Sprite). 

Then there were the Preggie Pops and the heaven-sent PregEase: both of which had been fucking life savers. (Both stayed safely locked away in your room, on a shelf in your closet, right next to where you’d pinned the sonogram pictures.)

Once you’d let the quick shower relax your muscles exactly like you’d needed, you took your time drying off. And once you’d washed your face and changed into bike shorts and a giant t-shirt, you weren’t so tired as before. So, you’d settled into the couch with your phone, a book, a fluffy blanket, and a delicious bowl of sweet red peppers and pretzels.

It had become a go-to snack as of late. 

You were looking forward to finishing the steamy romance that had popped up on your BookTok a few weeks back, but you wanted to look into BookTok reviews for the second book in the series before you finished the first. Just to prepare yourself. 

Though, when you opened your TikTok app, you didn’t look into the book. No, instead, you found your fingers searching ‘13 weeks pregnant’. You wanted to see how other women looked at this point in the game. You couldn’t help wanting to compare your progression to other women. It wasn’t a healthy course of action – you knew that. You just had to see. . . get an idea.

You saw a lot of videos of them talking about entering their second trimester. Which, like your Ovia app had already informed you today, you knew you had officially passed the first trimester. . . which was a massive thing to you. Passing the first trimester meant several exciting things. A few being: the chances of your baby surviving the pregnancy increased tenfold; the morning sickness started screeching to a halt (thank god); and you’d be able to find out the gender of your baby in a few short weeks.

Though, the other glaring thing at the front of your brain was how you needed to tell Jake. Because of the fact that you were already in your second trimester.

The main thing you were concerned about was staying healthy, though. . . you were really hoping you were doing okay at keeping yourself healthy; you needed your baby to be healthy. All of your numbers seemed to be getting back on the right track as you’d been tracking your hemoglobin for the past few days. It was all very comforting–-you felt better.

Just as you clicked on a video about symptoms at week 13, the front door opened to show Jake coming through. You quickly shut the app off and locked your phone, pretended to be reading as sweat accumulated in your arm and knee pits. (Lovely.) 

Though, you couldn’t help but turn your body to peek at him in his peacoat, with a scarf wrapped around his neck, and a beanie covering his ears. Much like he’d looked on the night of the macaroni and cheese and therapy talk. 

He had a little chill in his bones, it seemed, as he shook them out when taking off his coat and scarf. His hat was next, leaving his long hair staticky in its wake. He smoothed it back with one more chill before he was off to the counter, dropping off the mail and his keys. But he didn’t immediately go to his room. He went about opening a drawer, finding a pair of scissors and heading to the mail on the counter. 

You did notice a package now that you looked closer. And he was hurriedly going about cutting through the yellow protective packaging.

Out of nowhere, you decided to speak. No idea where it came from. Curiosity killed the cat was all you could come up with.

“Whatcha got there?” Whatcha got there? Okay, first of all, what the fuck?

He peered over at you, raising a brow before lifting the now-open package to display it to you. “New guitar part I ordered.”

“Oh,” you blinked, not sure what else you’d been expecting from him. Of course he wasn’t about to make pleasant conversation. Not when something had apparently climbed up his ass where you were concerned for the past several days. 

Once again, you were right back at square one at the most inopportune time. It made you question your idea to make him your go-to person for your expected night terrors. . . but you didn’t want to let go of the possibility yet. Not yet. 

“Have fun with that,” you offered, turning back around to the book you most definitely didn’t want to read at the present time. Instead, you took a nervous bite of a pepper. 

“Um, y/n,” he said your name with a question in his tone. “What the fuck is this?”

Your heart tripped over itself in your chest. What had he found? Without looking at him, you decided to just go ahead and get your ass off the couch to survey the situation. 

He was holding the box containing your heart monitor in his hands.

Fuck. You really didn’t want him to be privy to that part of your life. For whatever ridiculous reason, you were embarrassed by it. 

Deciding honesty was the best policy, you decided to just flat out tell him. “I went to the Emergency Room the other night,” you started. “And the doctor just wanted –.”

“The Emergency Room?!” His voice raised a decibel, obviously alarmed at the new information. “Wait . . . is that why Josh had to leave the bar–? The same night you were gone all night.”

“Wait. . .how do you know I was gone all night?”

“I live with you, y/n,” he scoffed, talking to you like you were an idiot. 

You felt your blood pressure rise, your heart beating in your ears. “Yes, Jake, I know this,” you matched his tone, the hormones working in your favor this time–making you angry rather than sad. “But why the fuck were you awake?”

“I was waiting for–,” he stopped, clearing his throat before starting over. He looked down, a crinkle in his brow. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He was waiting for. . . who? Waiting for. . . what? Your curiosity peaked, but you ignored it for the time being. 

“Well, not that you need to know, but yes. I was at the E.R. that night,” you explained. “Something happened that landed me there and it resulted in them wanting to track my heart activity. Nothing huge.”

And for once, you didn’t feel bad for lying to him. Your nerves were lit on fire with irritation towards him. 

He doesn’t need to know.

“You got a heart monitor in the mail,” he stated, not dropping the possible severity of the situation. "And you're saying it's nothing huge?"

Without a second thought, you were yanking the package from his hands. 

“It’s. not. your. business, Jacob,” you squeezed the package until the plastic wrap squeaked from the tight grip of your fingertips. Then, something else clicked. “Why the fuck were you not looking at the name on the package? Remember, like you said, you live with me. You know that not all of the shit that comes in the mail is yours.”

“I just wasn’t thinking–.”

“Kind of fucking invasive, Jake,” you interrupted hotly. “Don’t you think?”

“Well, it helped me to know something was wrong with your heart. You wouldn’t have told me if I hadn’t opened the package,” he argued back. 

“You didn’t need to know!” You said, your voice raising at the same speed as your blood pressure. “Still don’t!”

“But Josh sure as hell does, right?” He demanded, swinging his finger towards the door, his jaw clenching. “He needed to be your knight in shining fucking armor, huh?”

“Why the hell do you care?!” You fumed, the question exploding from your chest with the same emotion that had tears gathering in your eyes at the question. Angry tears. Confused tears. 

“I don’t!” He snapped, his beautiful, brown eyes, hard. His jaw, set and tight. 

His words sat in the air for a few minutes. Your stares were intertwined; swimming with tangled emotions. The air felt hot and heavy as it surrounded you. It was taut with newly spoken (and still unspoken) surmounting feelings and disequilibrium. Nostrils were flaring. Both of your chests heaved, the sound of his breathing mixed with yours in a way that made you want to slap and kiss his pursed lips.

You didn’t let yourself stand there much longer – needed to get away from him. Without speaking to him, you tore your eyes from his, gathered up your stuff from the couch, and tried to walk with as much dignity as you could to your room. 

Somehow, you were able to get the door open with your hands inexplicably full, and after you’d entered and before you could shut it behind you, you shot a glare his way. He was still watching you.

“Fuck you, Jake.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 17, 2022

The next night saw your ass in the shower again. 

Except this time, you were sitting in the tub, legs drawn to your chest as close as possible with your rounder tummy, and chin on your knees as you let the warm water soak you through. 

You’d already shaved and washed everything. So, now, you were just letting yourself be.

Your thoughts had been spinning since last night. So, in an effort to help your heart, you’d invited Josh over for a movie when Jake left to give lessons for the day. And, of course, he’d said yes without question. 

You’d spent the day drowning yourself in popcorn and Canada Dry (Josh surprised you with a new 12-pack when he’d arrived) as you’d watched all three Bridget Jones movies. Back to back to back. They weren’t Josh’s favorites, but he humored you by trying to indulge in the trilogy – even managing to laugh at the funny parts. 

Between movies, he’d let you cry on his shoulder. Or, intermittently, during the movies. . . By the time he’d left, your tears had positively stained the white long sleeve tee he was wearing. 

He didn’t ever ask what it was about – who it was about. And you never told him. But you knew he wasn’t oblivious to who caused your emotional episode.

Now he was gone. Had been for about an hour. And Jake wasn’t home yet. Not that you fucking cared. 

You’d meant it when you told him what you did. Fuck him.

Though, the devastating matter was that you couldn’t decide if you were more mad at yourself or him. Everyday was a replay of the day in the kitchen. And you were sure he replayed it everyday, too. . . and he was definitely allowed to feel hurt after the horrendous shit you’d thrown at him.

But what was with the back and forth? Hot and cold? How he’d been okay the night with the mac and cheese? How he’d spent his time researching therapy for you to try? How he’d been quick to defend your song to his girlfriend? 

And, just as quickly, he was snapping at you. Getting upset out of nowhere. Instantly angry with you when you’d come out of the bathroom at the bar. Getting pissed for no reason at you and Josh for sitting in the car. Telling you last night that he didn’t care about you. 

Was that true? Did he not? It fucking killed you if it was true. But you couldn’t blame him if he didn’t care. Why would he?

You took the moment to stretch your legs out in the shower, watching as the water painted your skin with droplet after droplet. Then, you looked down at your tummy, extra round after a day of pigging out. 

Placing a pruned hand on it, you looked down at the part of your body that housed your human. Surprisingly (not), tears clouded your voice as you spoke to it, rubbing the skin reassuringly. “I’m so sorry that your mommy and daddy are so fucked up.”

After letting a few tears fall to meet the tight, rounded skin of your tummy, you forced your legs to stand up. The feat was proven a little difficult as they’d fallen asleep, but you still managed. Regretfully, you’d turned the water off. You didn’t want to leave the shower but you were officially prune-y as hell.

And, as you gathered a towel to wrap up in, you realized you were also very fucking tired.

You carefully attached the heart monitor’s adhesive to your chest like the instruction manual (and multiple videos you’d watched) told you to, and followed it with the monitor itself. You then checked to make sure the phone you’d been given with the kit was ready to track what it needed.

Finding your phone on the counter after you’d washed your face and brushed your teeth, you decided Josh deserved a thank you after putting up with you the last several days.

Especially after you’d just rocked his motherfucking world . . . and he’d been so cool about it.

God, you just loved him.

You, 10:17 p.m.: I’m so glad I have you. I mean it from the bottom of my heart that I wouldn’t make it through this pregnancy without you. And your love and amazing fucking support. I’d be lost without you.

And after you sent it, you began towel drying your hair, then brushed through any tangles the best you could. 

When you heard a ding! sound from the living room, you spent a few minutes thinking it was your imagination. But when you heard it a second time, you realized it was most likely not in your head, and that Jake was home. 

So, checking your appearance once more, you wrapped the towel as tight as you could around your body before shutting the light off and opening the door. 

You glanced up to see if he was in fact home, and the sight that met you had you stop in your tracks. 

Josh’s white phone case with the little triangle symbol he’d drawn on it one day at the B&G. 

In Jake’s hands. 

Jake’s face, looking at the screen of said phone, mouth open in shock.

And as soon as you closed the door to the bathroom, the smallest sound of it shutting, made his eyes slowly slide up from the phone to your face.

He held the phone up, showing you just what he’d seen. Fuck. 

“You’re pregnant?”

You took a careful step forward, the blood in your veins frazzled and vibrating. Deny deny deny. As long as you can, y/n. “What gives you the right to be in Josh’s phone? Your invasiveness really knows no fucking bounds these days,” you clipped, voice shaking in spite of yourself.

He blinked a couple of times, a smile forming on his mouth. A wide, sarcastic one, which turned into an astounded scoff. “Really? That’s what we’re going to focus on right no–?” He shook his head, clicking the phone shut before taking a few cautious steps towards you. “His face I.D.; it opens to me. I’m his fucking identical twin.”

“Prove it,” you challenged. 

“Was already planning on it,” he snipped. And right in your line of sight, he opened the phone, putting his face in front of it. Then, it was turned to show you. The same tantalizing screen as before. “Proven.”

“Well. . .,” you faltered, scrambling. “Why did you have it?”

“It was laying on the counter. I went to grab it and my keys,” he jingled the keys in his other hand. “I was going to take it to him,” he explained, sounding exasperated and patient all at once. An anomaly. “But when I picked it up, I looked down, and it opened.”

He took two steps back, once again, holding the phone up to show you the text screen. The gray bubble had never looked so horrifying as it did in that moment. The sweat accumulating on your forehead proved your entire skin care routine pointless. You were shaking. Your skin felt like it was going to fall off from the vibrations taking over underneath it.

“Now,” he started slowly. “Will you answer my question, please?” 

His voice broke on the last word and it triggered a single tear to trickle down your cheek. 

“Yes, I am.”

“Whose?”

“Really, Jake?” You questioned, the question making your heart break. How could he–? 

His eyes went soft momentarily, pleading with you. “I just need to hear you say it, y/n.”

“It’s yours, Jake. The baby is yours. Who the fuck else?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: this monstrous chapter was a fucking doozy and you already know i wanna talk about it!! come to my asks and we shall chat <333

oh, but i'm just wondering........ what do you think reader's safe place will be? ;) a place? a person? both? hmmm....

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98

(and, due to t*mblr’s shitass guidelines, i will be adding the other tags in a reblog of the story!)

[callmelola111]

guilty conscience ☆ part four

 ← part 1 , part 2 , part 3 ⭑ part 5 →

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

      |✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 3.2k

      |✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, SMUT (18+ ONLY), modern au!ellie, HEAVY ANGST, frequent swearing, sexual tension, cat lol, fingering (r receiving), oral (r recieving), kinda nipple play, dom!ellie, sub!reader, public-ish sex, ellie is a cheater cheater pumpkin eater (i think thats it but lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: honestly was getting fed up with myself writing this part. like goddamn bitch can we get a happy ending already? so much angst and drama from ellie that you might just wanna beat her tf up. it gets so slutty though and i love it. i hope this is feeds the ache for y'all, lmk cause this is my first attempt at smut!! anyways, thanks 4 the support and much love from me to you <;3

After that special night with Ellie, you realized there was no more ignoring the situation at hand. She left you feeling empty just as quick as she had made you feel full. And you cared so much for her, despite the fact. No matter how much you wanted to stand your ground, your mind always got stuck on the possibilities. The possibility that Ellie was feeling everything you were… The possibility that there was a happy ending in sight… The possibility that Cat meant nothing.

With all these feelings circling your mind, you felt too biased to make the right decision when it came to her. You decided it was time to tell Dina. You quickly picked up your phone and gave her a call, inviting her out to coffee. Thankfully Dina offered to drive, as you were still stranded at Ellie’s bandmates place. 10 minutes later, she was out front honking. 

Dina greeted you with a squeal, “Hiii love!! I missed you!”

Before you could reciprocate her greeting she spoke again, “Wait who’s house is this? How was last night? Oh my god Y/n, did you hook up with someone?? Pleaseee tell me!!” Dina’s thoughts were going 100 mph trying to guess the context of this little rendezvous. 

“That’s why I asked you to coffee. Trust me, I’m going to explain everything.” Your mysterious answer left Dina even more intrigued. The both of you arrived at the coffee shop, ordered your drinks, and took a seat at a little table in the corner. 

“Soooo… TELL ME ALREADY,” Dina exclaimed impatiently as you fidgeted in your seat not even sure where to start. You stared through the shop window at nothing in particular as you mulled over the timeline of Ellie and you. Dina could see the cogs in your brain turning and knew this conversation was going to be about more than a silly little one night stand. You finally spoke 3 words, “it’s about Ellie.”

“Ellie? God I should’ve known, I’m literally your best friend!!”

“It's fine D, I’ve been pretty radio silent about my love life on purpose. See, it’s much more complicated. Like a gut wrenching, sick and twisted, WLW heartbreak kind of complicated. How long can you stay and talk?”

“I’m all yours babe, give me every last detail. I'm serious,” Dina urged. So, you did. The debrief took a total of 3 hours and 2 iced coffees to get through. It felt so good getting everything off your chest. 

Dina gave you just the right advice too, “Communication is key.” You knew it was stupid but talking about it upfront was the last thing you had thought to do. It seemed too scary to face Ellie like that, but you knew it was the right choice. Sure it was hard dealing with these feelings and you wanted answers, but you also lived with this girl. You owed it to yourself and to her to figure out this bullshit. You didn’t want to be in a constant state of tension and resentment every time the two of you had to be around each other (which was all the time).

After a morning well spent, you and Dina said your goodbyes and she dropped you back off at your dorm. You walked through the front doors and swiped your student ID to access the elevator. You leaned against the cold, metal walls as you brainstormed how to approach Ellie. You had a good idea of what to say up until you were opening the door and coming face to face with her. She made you forget everything. But, despite your blank mind, you were determined.

“Ellie, we need to talk, seriously.” You tried to assert yourself, but your breaths were shaky from nerves. Ellie looked up from her desk nonchalantly and gave you a blank stare like she had no idea what you were talking about. This really pissed you off.

“Don’t give me that fucking look Ellie, you know exactly what I’m talking about. How could you just leave me like that?”

“Hey relax, it’s not like that.” she stood up and answered calmly, which made you want to slap her even more. Ellie could put on a game face better than she could ever be vulnerable. No matter the damage her lack of honesty caused.

“It’s not like that? Be real with yourself for one fucking second Ellie.” 

“Fuck you bro, I don’t need this shit.” she retaliated, not meaning a word she spat out.

“FUCK YOU!” you shouted, moving into her space. Instead of moving back, Ellie stayed right there with you, standing her ground. You felt the heat of her body against yours and an erotic sensation growing between your legs. Your eyes began to glaze over with tears of desperation, she had this unexplained power over you.

“Ellie, I- I can’t keep doing this with you.”

“Can’t keep doing what?” she asked. It’s like Ellie needed you to admit it first before she could even acknowledge it on her own. She longed to hear your passionate confessions and anguished pleas.

“I can’t keep beating around the bush with you. I like you Ellie and it’s driving me fucking crazy because you act like you could care less. You taunt me with your stupid sexy charm and stupid flirty touch just to run right back to Cat. But right here, right now, you can’t deny the tension between us. I need you Ellie.” Tears began to stream down your face and you wiped them away with haste. A beat of loud silence echoed through the room before Ellie finally answered.

“I don’t mean to tease, but there’s just so much at stake when it comes to me and you. Can't you see? I know I’m a piece of shit. I mean, here I am with a perfectly fine girlfriend, yet inches away from my roommate, hardly able to resist her touch.”

“Then don't Ellie. Forget about everyone and please just kiss me.” You were practically begging, it was so pitiful. Ellie placed a hand to your shoulder and shoved you against the wall.

“God Y/n just STOP IT!” 

You melted under her agonizing touch, “W-why not me?” You stuttered and took in  her hot breaths that hit your face as she panted through her frustration. It wasn’t much longer till the two of you could no longer restrain.

Ellie stared at her dirty converse to avoid your pleading eyes, “I just can’t, I can’t cheat. I'm not a cheater.” She was shaking her head profusely as if to rid her mind of the lustful thoughts that consumed her. She wanted you so bad it hurt. You took her face in your hands and lifted her gaze to yours in a last attempt.

“Ellie-,” you gasped, as the aching became unbearable. You’d surrender to her touch right now if she only asked. As Ellie looked back at you, she wished Cat didn’t exist, you were all she ever wanted and you were right there. She just had to say the words and you’d be hers.

Ellie’s head fell into the crook of your neck in desperation. Her hands moved up and down your clothed body searching for some sort of release. 

“Ellie please, I need you.” you whimpered into her ear. The vibrations sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine and just like that she snapped. All her morals disappeared as she found your wrist and grasped it firmly, leading your hand to the waistband of your pants.

She whispered back, “show me.” With her permission your hand darted down to the ache. You slid your fingers through the mess Ellie invoked with just her words before stopping on the big ball of nerves that begged to be touched. 

Before you could ease the yearning down below, Ellie interrupts, “I said show me.” A smirk grew upon her face as she watched you discern the meaning of her risky comment. You retrieved your fingers in obedience to Ellie and were prepared to do whatever else she asked.

Immediately, Ellie took your sticky fingers and brought them to her plump lips. Slowly she planted kisses from the tips of your digits down to your knuckles. It felt like a dream. Of course, Ellie knew she should stop, but when her freckled nose caught the sweet smell of your juices she dreamed of tasting them too. 

“Put your hands back in your pants.” she demanded with agency. Back inside they went, fingers quick to locate your empty hole. You couldn’t take it, your middle finger gently slid in and a breath escaped your open mouth. You shut your eyes and an in-and-out rhythm ensued. Ellie grew wet herself as she watched you writhe with pleasure. She couldn’t help but tell you.

“I love watching you touch yourself like that.” Her comment evoked a strained moan from your lips as you imagined her fingers inside instead of your own. Ellie cupped her cunt, trying to fight her infidelity but failing miserably.

“Can I see your fingers again please? I- I wanna taste it.”

“Need me that bad?” you teased, like you hadn’t been dreaming of this moment for ages. But Ellie had no time for games and took matters into her own hands. She captured your fingers herself. Her tongue flattened to the length of them before her mouth completely closed in on the treat. She sucked with vigor until your flavor dissipated.

“Tastes so good” she hummed, eyes blown out with pleasure. 

“How about you really taste it?” you taunted. The twisted and erotic nature of the interaction left you in a trance. 

“You know I can’t Y/n. It- It would be wrong.” Ellie spoke as if sucking your roommates slick right off her fingers wasn’t just as much of a betrayal as any sexual act. At this point morals felt so out of the question but your words from nights before continued to repeat in her head.

“Me? Mess it up for you? Don’t worry Ellie, you can do that all on your own, believe me.”

She was at odds with herself, not knowing whether to dive in head first or run away while she could. 

“Please Ellie, I need you inside me.” you begged. She brushed the back of her hand down your face apologetically and planted a kiss on your forehead.

A single tear fell as she said, “I just can’t do this. I have to go,” and turned towards the door. Ellie disappeared out of the room and you sunk to the floor, defeated once more. I guess old habits really do die hard. 

After Ellie left, she didn’t show back up to your dorm for the next 3 days. At first you were pissed off and hurt, but the longer she was gone, the more that bitterness turned into worry. She became the only thing on your mind. You had tried calling and texting but to no avail. Out of desperation, you even decided to ask Cat in class. Dina supervised from afar as you confronted her.

“Cat, I know you don’t like me, but can I please just ask you something,” you said with hesitance.

“Great observation! You’re right, I don’t like you. Now, what do you want?” she snapped.

“It’s about Ellie, I haven't seen her in 3 days and I’m really worried. Do you know where she is?” Cat paused to think before she gave you an answer.

“She’s been staying at my place. Is there a problem? I mean, I am her girlfriend,” she scoffed. Truthfully, Cat hadn’t seen Ellie for the past 3 days either but God forbid she let you find that out. She didn’t want you thinking you had any sort of chance with her girlfriend now that she seemed to be getting iced out too.

Of course, her plan worked just how she wanted and you were just about ready to give up on Ellie. You walked back to your dorm dragging your feet hopelessly. When you arrived you were greeted by none other than the girl who’d been fueling your worry.

“Ellie? What the fuck. What are you doing here?”

“I mean, I live here right?” she answered while rummaging through her things. Here she goes again, pissing you off like usual.

“I thought you did too until you went awol for 3 whole days without saying a thing. If you wanna stay with Cat that bad just tell me. I don’t need you sparing my feelings. You’ve already done enough.” Your anger spoke for you and Ellie was baffled.

“Cat? What makes you say that? I’ve been at my parents this whole time.”

You snapped, “Don't lie to me Ellie, I know you were at her place. If you love Cat so much, just be with her and leave me the fuck alone.” Ellie then grabbed her guitar and slinged on a backpack.

“Fine, I will leave you alone. I have a show to be at anyways.” And just like that, gone again.

You replayed the past hour in your head and considered the fact that maybe Ellie was telling the truth. Cat was never known to be a saint, so her lying all of the sudden seemed likely. This time, instead of waiting for Ellie to come back around, you decided to chase after her.

You quickly threw on a revenge outfit and put on some mascara. You stared in the mirror at your black mini skirt and tight crop top. You couldn’t deny it, you looked fucking hot. The peak in confidence pushed you right out the door and to the venue of Ellie’s show.

When you arrived her band was already on stage playing. You realized this was your first time ever hearing them together and decided to really soak it in. Ellie looked so happy doing what she loved despite all the drama happening off stage. She was even better than you thought. You watched as she plucked the strings and bobbed her head along with the beat. You hated how much it turned you on. The tattoo you loved so much was on full display and her arm muscles flexed with each chord. She’d occasionally bite her bottom lip in concentration and it drove you wild. Her set finally finished and you were more than pleased, mentally and physically. Ellie got off stage and you quickly ran after, shouting her name.

“Hey can we talk please? I wanna say sorry.” you explained.

“Fine, come with me to the bathroom, it’s quieter there.” She grabbed your hand and led you. You pushed yourself up to sit on the marble counters that housed the sinks. Ellie looked you up and down, waiting for you to speak. She took note of how good you looked before frantically spewing an apology.

“I’m sorry for accusing you of lying. I was stupid and asked Cat if she had seen you recently. Of course she told me you’d been with her and I blindly believed.” 

She seemed to be listening so you continued your ranting, “I really hate to fight Els. I miss having fun with you. I wanna move on from everything and just be happy. Together, me and you.” You looked up to flash her some puppy dog eyes when you noticed her attention being diverted.

No matter how hard Ellie wanted to pay attention to what you had to say, she couldn’t help but stare up your skirt. Your positioning on the counter gave her the perfect sneak peek of the space between your legs. Once you had caught on to her pervy behavior Ellie fumbled to save face.

“Shit sorry um, I was just, uh, you have cute panties.” She then flashed you a sideways smile trying to make up for that dumpster fire of a “save”.

“You don’t have to apologize, Els.” A cocky look spread across your face and Ellie recognized what game you were playing.

“Well then I’d just like to say, the wet spot on them is even cuter.” Your face turned hot as you registered the fact that the same girl who made you soak through your panties was about to be the one to take them off.

Ellie slotted herself between your knees as you sat on the counter. Shock turned to hunger in a matter of seconds as you practically consumed each other. Her mouth engulfed yours as if there was no need for air. You desperately clung to her body, using your legs to pull in closer. Ellie grabbed at your chest as she slipped her wet tongue into your desperate kiss. You gasped into her mouth when she found your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. She twisted them with power before removing your shirt completely. Ellie separated from your mouth for just a split second to admire the beauty before her.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” she gushed and then used both hands to push your legs apart. Your cunt was on full display through the soaked fabric, your skirt bunched up around your hips. Ellie used her calloused fingers to trace the delicate folds peeking from the cloth and you jolted as she brushed past your sensitive spot. She hooked into your panties to scootch the fabric to the side before you suddenly interrupted.

“Ellieeee, we’re in a public bathroom.” She pouted at you with desperation. Ellie needed you now. Out of pure impulse, she grabbed you by the hips, hands cupping your ass, and stumbled with you into the big stall. 

“Take them off” she demanded. You seductively slipped the pink, lace thong you were wearing down to your ankles. The cold air alone on your exposed folds was enough to send a sensation through your body. Ellie retrieved your littered painties and shoved them into her pocket for “safe keeping”. She remained on her knees in the tight bathroom stall and began planting kisses on your inner thighs. These kisses turned into small bites as the shared arousal became overwhelming to your senses.

Ellie eventually found her way to right where you wanted her. Her fingers spread you apart taking mental note of each delicate fold. You gasped in pleasure, as if to urge her to continue. The wet sensation of her tongue finally met your aching clit and a sultry moan escaped your lips. Your opening clenched at the contact as she coached you through the bliss that was her mouth.

“I know it feels good but you gotta be quiet for me baby. Just breathe.” You had barely gotten the hang of keeping calm before her fingers dove in to give you twice as much satisfaction.

You gripped Ellie’s forearm for support as she twisted in and out of your throbbing cunt. She was determined to make you feel good. She needed to make up for her bad behavior.

With that thought in mind, she dove back in with her mouth followed by the curling of her fingers inside you. You couldn’t help but screech and Ellie quickly shot a hand up to cover your mouth. So goddamn noisy. As she continued, you inched closer and closer to the precipice of an orgasm.

The bathroom brimmed with the wet sounds of Ellie’s tongue lapping you up, her fingers assaulting your hole, and the moans she did her best to muffle. But, suddenly, those weren’t the only sounds that filled the room.

“Ellie? Baby, is that you?”

← masterlist ⭑ part 5 →

taglist ☆...

@machetegirl109 @gold-dustwomxn @menatoia @ximtiredx @robinismywifee @elliepricefield @alexpritch @jokirxmae

[changbinsboiledegg]

Enha hyung line reactions to their gf having a thigh riding kink? - ⛄️

Heyo thank you for your request! I hope you like these! Ily 🫶🫶

AFAB! Reader X Enhypen Hyung line.

(disclaimer: I think technically these could be gender neutral bc I didn't necessarily name any AFAB words regarding body parts other than 'pelvis' but just in case, I'm tagging it as AFAB.)

MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI!!!!!!!!!

Warnings: Thigh riding kink, smut, anything else? lmk.

Note: Why is it that when I write reactions, I unintentionally make the first few short and the rest long??? Beats me... Or maybe they are same length? ... lol.. length. idk. I hope y'all enjoy, I proofread but can't guarantee that there aren't typos lol. I'm going to log off for the night again so... have fun & again, MDNI.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Heeseung

The second you brought it up and that you wanted to try it, he was up to the idea and mostly just wanted to see where things would go.

As you straddled his waiting thigh and started to rock your hips against his thigh in slow movements, he’d help you out by guiding your hips and finding it incredibly hot how your own thighs shook and the little sounds you made as you came closer to orgasm.

“We should definitely do this again.” Heeseung smirked, rubbing your shaking thighs.

“Please.” You begged, to which his smirk grew.

Jay

It was your birthday and Jay told you, anything you wanted, he would give you. It was your day, after all. Even if he meant material items.

“You want to… ride… my thigh?” He rephrased your suggestion to make sure he heard you right. When you confirmed, he sat down and pulled you by your hips until you were straddling him.

“Go ahead, then.” He removed his hands from your hips and leaned back on the couch as you placed your legs on either side of his thigh, lowering yourself and riding his thigh. Jay seemed to enjoy watching you come undone like this, eyeing your facial expressions and listening to the soft moans you made.

Jake

“What’cha lookin at?” Jake sat beside you as you were staring at your phone screen with full immersion. He knew you liked to read webtoons and such, but he didn’t know you were reading something a bit more spicier.

After a few seconds with no answer, he jokingly swiped your phone and held it up higher than his head. You lunged for it, straddling him as you reached for your phone.

Suddenly, your thighs were straddled on either side of one of his thighs and your pelvis met his thigh, earning a soft gasp as it made contact with the slightest friction. Your reaction caused Jake to freeze as he set your phone on the spot beside him where you sat and his hands were on your hips, creating friction as he rubbed you against his thigh, earning the same reaction, only more prominent.

“You like this, don’t you?”

Sunghoon

He looked up ‘thigh riding’ after he saw the term in your browser history. What he learned about this, surprised him as he didn’t think you were the type to enjoy something like this.

But here he is, attempting to tease you about it without bringing it up by sitting and manspreading whenever you’re in the same room, knowing you’d fit perfectly on his thigh if you let desire take over. But you never acted on it and he was dying to let you try it with him.

He got tired and pulled you in for a kiss, which turned into making out and you straddling his thigh as he tried to control where you were placed. He wanted to see how you looked and how you sounded and he was almost overjoyed when he felt you rubbing yourself against his thigh with your lips locked on his.

“Just like that…”

Note 2: Yes, reader is reading smut in Jake's. Goodnight lmao.

[rabbitsrams]

Stupid sweet domestic schlatt hcs NOW! 😤

please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

YES this is my fav thing ever🥺🥺i'm gonna make a little spin on it by adding y'all living together for the first time!!!

♡ moving into an apartment together

♡ this is yours and his first time living with a partner and it's a bit nerve-wracking but also very exciting!

♡ schlatt was the one who asked you to move in with him but you also were thinking about possibly living with him

♡ you have been together for about a year and a half at this point

♡ decorating the house with things from yours and schlatt's previous places

♡ it's a nice little blend of both you and schlatt <3

♡ you guys have a whole shelf filled with little knick-knacks, books, albums and more of yours and of schlatts! it's in the living room by the tv <3

♡ the cats and any pet(s) you may have all have their own little areas with food, toys, trees, etc.

♡ your bedroom has the two little bedside things for you and schlatt, chock full of your essentials

♡ the bathroom has your respective toothbrushes, toothpastes, face wash, etc. on either side of the sink

♡ can you tell i've played unpacking

♡ doing chores together/dividing the work

♡ putting on music as you clean/cook/etc. and dancing like absolute dorks

♡ also cooking for each other and together!! so you don't order from delivery apps all the time lol

♡ okay this is gonna make me sound like a dork but... i would LOVE to go grocery shopping w/ schlatt.

♡ like idk, buying shit you both need together, unloading the car then putting everything away together? i need😭

♡ also doing your morning routines together or it overlapping!!!!!!

♡ you and schlatt making sure you have everything you need + also you eat before going to work/going out for the day

♡ you have a shared office where one side schlatt records/streams/edits/etc. while the other side you do work for your job

♡ the pets have their own little trees/areas where they chill if they want to keep you guys company

♡ you coming into the office while schlatt's working to bring him food if he hasn't eaten

♡ his twitch chat LOVES you.

♡ they love when you come in to say hi or bring him smthn and beg him to bring you onto the stream

♡ on occasion you do come on stream or during recordings and he loves it bc he loves showing you off

♡ but you try to keep it to a minimum since you want more privacy lol

♡ making a couple of vlogs on the schlagg channel of some domestic stuff (cooking a new recipe, setup tour ft. your desk, etc.)

♡ you becoming his cameraperson for those vlogs when he goes out

if yall want a part 2 please lmk i will write 100 of these i love them sm

[sunkissed-zegras]

✮ 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬, nhl players

♡ ─ pairing(s) | quinn hughes x fem!reader, jack hughes x fem!reader, luke hughes x fem!reader, alex turcotte x fem!reader, trevor zegras x fem!reader

♡ ─ summary | types of kisses that i think these players would give!

♡ ─ warnings | kissing (obviously LOL), mention of migraines, mention of criticism/hate, just overall fluff lmk if i missed anything

♡ ─ taglist | tbd! check out link in navigation!

♡ ─ ev's notes | THIS WAS SO CUTE, i loved it. i remember reading something similar to this but i can't remember who wrote it, so if y'all know who just tell me so i can credit them lol. this was one of my favorite things to write, it was short and sweet just how i like it. if you guys want a part 2, let me know, maybe like umich players or more nhl players. anyways, enjoy!!!!

♡ quinn hughes kissing their injuries

when you two had first gotten together, it started as a little joke. anytime he'd get a little injury, even something as small as a paper-cut, you'd kiss it. and every single time, quinn's heart would melt. now, quinn relies on you to make him feel better even if it is a little joke. one day, you were struck by a painful migraine. the throbbing in your head was relentless, and you couldn't find any relief. you laid in bed, your entire head feeling like it weighed a million pounds and your eyes blurry. in that painful moment, quinn leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your temple. it was a gesture of love and empathy, his way of trying to alleviate your pain, just like you always did with him. as his lips touched your skin, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you. the pain, though still present, seemed to lose some of its intensity. but it wasn't just the relief from the migraine that struck you. it was the overwhelming feeling of love and care that quinn's kiss had conveyed, and in that moment you knew that you loved quinn more than anyone else in the world.

♡ jack hughes comforting kisses

in the world of constant criticism and hatred, jack felt like he couldn't find any comfort in anything anymore. that was until he met you. you were the embodiment of warmth and comfort to jack, every moment spent with you felt like a beacon of light in his otherwise gloomy existence. every interaction with you felt like a warm, inviting embrace, like a soft, cozy blanket on a chilly winter's night. and that was just your mere energy, your kisses felt were on a whole other playing-field. until he met you, kisses were just kisses but now they had the power to erase his worries, and to melt away the troubles that weighed on his heart. they weren't just physical gestures anymore; they were a testament to your love and care. they were a silent promise that, in your arms, he would always find solace and warmth. jack couldn't help but be captivated by the tenderness and affection that your kisses conveyed. in a world that often seemed devoid of kindness, your presence and affection became a lifeline for jack. you were the antidote to the poison of negativity that threatened to consume him. your love was the source of his strength, a sanctuary where he could find respite from the world's harshness.

♡ luke hughes first kisses

the first kiss between you and luke was a moment of pure innocence and wholesomeness, filled with a deep sense of care and affection. it was a memory that would forever be etched in both of your hearts that set the mood for the rest of your relationship. it happened on a warm summer evening at the lake house before you both left for college. as the sun dipped below the lake, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. you had been spending time together, talking and laughing, sharing stories and dreams. the conversation flowed effortlessly but then there was a gentle pause, a moment of unspoken understanding between you. the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the setting sun. with a shy smile, luke reached out, his hand brushing against yours, fingers interlocking in a tender embrace. it was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes of the affection that had already begun to grow between you. your heart raced as you met his gaze, eyes locking in a shared moment of vulnerability and anticipation. the world seemed to hold its breath as you leaned in, your lips drawing closer to his, guided by an unspoken desire. when your lips finally met, it was a soft and gentle kiss, filled with all the sweetness of a first touch. it was a kiss that spoke of trust and tenderness, a promise of something beautiful blooming between you. as your lips lingered against his, you could feel the warmth of his smile, a silent affirmation of the connection you both felt. it was a kiss that held the promise of many more to come.

♡ alex turcotte accidental kisses

it was obvious, alex was head over heels for you. the way he talked to you, the way his eyes lit up when you talked to him, the way he talked about you ─ it was painfully obvious to everyone who knew alex. when he talked to you, his voice would soften, becoming a gentle, tone that was reserved only for you. he listened intently to your words, hanging on to every syllable as if they were precious secrets meant only for him. it was as though the world faded into the background when he engaged in conversation with you, his undivided attention focused solely on you. but it wasn't just in the way he spoke; it was also in the way he looked at you. his eyes lit up with an unmistakable brightness whenever you entered the room or caught his gaze. it was a look of genuine adoration, as if he couldn't believe his luck to have you in his life. your presence had the power to brighten his day, and it was evident in the warmth that radiated from his gaze. one day, you two hung out alone in your apartment to watch harry potter, who was your favorite series (which also happened to be his, too). as the rain tapped gently on your windowpane, you and alex curled up on the couch, surrounded by an array of blankets and pillows. the soft glow of the TV illuminated the room as the opening notes of the harry potter theme music filled the air. it was a familiar and comforting sound, setting the perfect mood. then, as you reached behind him to get the remote, alex thought you were leaning in for a kiss. he immediately started to freak out but he leaned in and kissed you, too. as he leaned away and he took a look at the confused look in your eyes, panic set in as he realized he might have misread the situation. what if you were just reaching for the remote? what if he was about to make a complete fool of himself? you instantly let out a soft laugh which somehow, made his anxiety worse. but then you put a hand on his cheek and kissed him again, a sweeter kiss than the one before. in that moment, the doubts and fears that had plagued him faded away, replaced by the warmth and certainty of your affection. this second kiss was different from the first. it was softer, sweeter, and filled with an undeniable warmth. it was a kiss that erased any lingering doubts and replaced them with a newfound sense of connection and affection. it was a kiss that told alex everything he needed to know. when you eventually pulled away, your eyes met his, mirroring the newfound clarity in your connection. no words were necessary to articulate what had just transpired between you both.

♡ trevor zegras angry kisses

you and trevor were stubborn which meant every argument was terrible. your unwavering determination was part of what drew you to each other, but it also meant that neither of you was willing to back down easily. at first, it might seem like a manageable fight, but as your stubbornness came into play, the situation would quickly escalate. voices would rise, and tempers would flare. each of you was convinced of your own viewpoint, and neither was willing to yield. the arguments would become intense, filled with impassioned words, and sometimes even hurtful accusations. arguments with trevor could be exhausting and emotionally draining, but they were also a testament to the passion and love that existed between you. neither of you could stand to see the other upset, which often led to passionate reconciliations after the storm of an argument had passed. and after every single fight, no matter how bad it was, trevor would always be the one to budge to everyone's surprise. he never wanted to lose you so even in the worst of both of your moments, he always was willing to compromise his ego for the wellbeing of your relationship. and after every single fight, he'd give you a kiss to mend things with the both of you. it was a sweet and passionate kiss. each time his lips met yours in that tender, passionate kiss, it was a silent promise that he would do whatever it took to keep your relationship strong and thriving. it was a way of saying, "i love you, and i'm sorry," without needing words.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[luvangelbreak]

Deprived | Four

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing (don't think there's anything else but lmk) word count: 3k a/n: my first time writing from matts pov and I'm nervy but hope y'all like it. also i know very little abt the seasons of hockey games at schools so if that's off, just ignore it lol.

pov: matt

I don't know why I ditched school with Layla. I never really left school unless I was sick or when Chris and Nick needed a ride home. I knew that I would be fine if I skipped a couple classes, my grades were good enough for me to miss a full month and I would still pass but I tried to stay above average.

As I drove us back to school, my mind wandered to when she put her earring on my lip. It made me realise how gentle she was, the way she grabbed my chin to turn my head and pulled my lip down to delicately place the ring on my lip made my mind fuzzy. She always seemed like she was tough and rough around the edges. The way she carried herself around school as if she didn't care about anyone or anything was a deep contrast to who she was in that moment of softness. I let my mind travel away as I parked in my usual spot at school, sliding my seatbelt off before I turned the car off.

I turned to face her, seeing her pick her bag up from the ground and going to open the door before I interrupted her movements, "Hey."

She turned to face me, letting go of the door handle as she looked at me expectantly, "What?"

"Do you wanna sit with me at lunch? I know you don't really go to the cafeteria but it's better than wandering around the school alone," I offered, praying in my head that she would agree.

"I don't think your friends will want me there," she mumbled, not making eye contact with me as she looked out at the school.

"Doesn't matter what they want. I want you to sit with us," I smiled at her, hoping it would convince her further. I knew my friends would be confused but I hoped I could convince them by showing them she was just like everyone else in the school and she wasn't some monster our peers had made her out to be.

"I don't know..." she trailed off, biting her lip which I picked up was a nervous habit. She had done it so many times in the short amount of time that I had been talking to her and I tried to not make it obvious that I was staring at her lips, coughing before sitting upright.

"Come on, it will be fine," I smiled once again before I jumped out of the car. I made sure my phone was in my pocket as I hopped out of the car, grabbed my backpack from the backseat and waited for her to close her door before I locked it.

We started walking into the school as she trailed behind me. She was mindlessly following me as she looked at her phone. I swung the door open, stepping aside to let her walk in before me. She sent me a half-hearted smile as a thank you making my chest swell with warmth.

I liked seeing her smile and knowing that I'd only seen her smile when she was around me made me proud in a way. I couldn't explain why but I felt myself pull towards her every time I saw her in the hallway. It had taken me a while to figure out if it was a good idea or not to talk to her, but I'd now decided that I was going to keep talking to her until she was sick of me.

I made my way to the cafeteria, noting that the clock on the wall read that lunch had already been happening for about 5 minutes. Her walking slowed and I turned to face her, slowing my pace to match hers.

"You don't have to stay for the whole lunch. Just come say hi to everyone at least," I offered her another smile and she chewed at her lip making me glance at them again, "Please."

"No need to grovel, pretty boy. I'll go," she rolled her eyes, her hard demeanour returning now that we were on school grounds. I smiled wider at the nickname she had given me and I was glad to know it stuck. After putting my backpack in my locker, we walked towards the cafeteria again.

We walked through the doors to the large cafeteria, eyes turning to look at the both of us. I ignored them as I walked through the tables, making a B-line to where my friends sat as Layla travelled behind me.

"Hey," I nodded to my brothers, sitting down beside Nick as they glanced over my shoulder at Layla making me turn towards her. I patted the seat beside me, letting her know she could sit down. She slowly sat down next to me and I could feel how tense she was by her body language, "Nick, Chris, Nate, Allie, this is Layla."

"Hi," Layla mumbled from beside me and I hoped that my friends could pull themselves together and at least pretend to be nice until they got to know her properly.

"Hey," Allie smiled at her politely as Nick and Nate both gave her a small wave. Chris nodded at her, his face showing his distaste for her being here making me run my tongue along my teeth. Chris looked at me and I made a face to tell him to be nice.

"What the fuck is on your lip?" Nick asked and I rang my tongue over the ring that was on my lip.

"It's fake. Just trying it out," I shrugged and Nick looked at me in confusion but I brushed it off.

"You getting any food?" Nate asked me and I shook my head as I watched him snack on the small tray of food he had in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" I heard a familiar voice speak and I looked to my right to see Mia staring down at Layla with confusion.

"Mia," I deadpanned and she glanced at me with a shrug of her shoulders, her cheerleading uniform riding up slightly as she did so.

"I'm just asking. She never even comes into the cafeteria and now she's sitting where I always sit," she stated in a bitchy tone making me frown at her.

"You can manage not sitting next to me for one day, Mia," I told her and she pursed her lips, a frown covering her face as she sat herself in between Layla and Allie.

"So why are you sitting here?" Mia asked Layla, her tone still bitchy as ever making me roll my eyes.

"Matt asked me to sit with you guys," Layla answered honestly, her tone not wavering in the slightest.

"Why?" Mia retorted as she opened the protein bar I didn't even notice she had.

"Because I wanted her to," I responded to Mia, my tone sharp to try and get her to stop. She was my biggest worry when I offered Layla to sit with us but I didn't realise she'd be so dramatic about it.

"Why didn't you get any food, Matty?" Mia asked me, now leaning over the table a little and completely ignoring Layla.

"I just ate," I answered honestly and I felt Layla's shoulder brush mine as she wriggled in her seat to get further away from Mia.

"What?" Nick asked now and I turned my head to face him.

I shrugged before replying, "We got McDonald's."

"And you didn't get anything for me?" Allie gasped dramatically making me smile at her as I shook my head.

"You skipped? For McDonald's with her?" my attention was brought back to Mia's bitter tone as she made a face of slight disgust.

"No I skipped because I wanted McDonald's and I asked her to come with me," I kept my tone flat to give her the hint that I was not impressed but she didn't seem to catch it.

"Why didn't you ask me?" Mia pouted and I shrugged, playing with the rings on my fingers.

"You were already in class," I told her and she rolled her eyes before I continued, "Besides, you never skip."

"What class do you have after this?" Allie asked Layla and I was thankful she diverted the conversation politely.

"Art and gym," Layla answered honestly and Allie's smile widened.

"You're in my gym class, right? Mr Rodes?" Allie asked and Layla nodded in response, "You should group up with me in class!"

"Uh, okay," Layla answered, confusion in her tone. I figured it was because she expected Allie to be a bitch, her cheerleading uniform and perfect red hair giving everyone the impression she was like Mia. Allie was one of the nicest people in school, she was down to talk to anybody and it's one of the reasons I was excited for Layla to sit with us.

"You always pair with me," Mia mumbled to Allie as she flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and Allie shrugged in response.

"You can go with Melissa? She always wants to go with you," Allie gave her a solution before digging back into her salad. Mia seemed more irritated than before and I hoped she would save it till Layla wasn't sitting with us. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"She's here for like two seconds and fucks everything up," Mia mumbled under her breath as she bit into her protein bar.

"If you're gonna shit talk me while I'm sitting right next to you at least say it with your chest, Mia," Layla deadpanned to Mia and she seemed taken aback as she just stared at the bleached blonde girl sitting next to me.

"You're gonna let her talk to me like that?" Mia asked as she glanced at me and I raised my eyebrows.

"He's not your father. You can stand up for yourself," Layla spoke clearly and I pursed my lips, resisting the urge to smile as Mia looked in shock. Almost no one pushed back with Mia, we all knew she would blow up and just make things worse than they needed to be. But I enjoyed seeing Layla stand up to her, it proved to me that she wasn't scared of anyone, she just didn't care to talk to them.

"This is bullshit," Mia huffed as she crossed her arms and Layla raised her eyebrows in response. I looked over at Chris who was hiding his smile behind his sandwich and Nick who coughed in order to cover his laugh.

"Right well, I'm gonna go. I'll see you in gym Allie," Layla picked up her bag and stepped over the bench as she adjusted her hoodie. I realised she left her leather jacket in my car but decided I wouldn't tell her yet so I had an excuse to see her later.

"Where are you going?" I asked as she turned back to face me. Instead of speaking, she made a motion with her hand like she was smoking an imaginary cigarette as she walked backwards slowly with her eyebrows raised. I smiled at her while shaking my head and I watched as she spun around, walking out of the doors of the cafeteria.

"What was that about?" Nick asked as I turned around to face the group who were now looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing as I ran my tongue over the ring on my lip, pursing my lips to hide my smile.

"You said you weren't gonna talk to her anymore," Chris deadpanned and I shrugged, grabbing Nick's water and taking a sip before he ripped it out of my hands.

"I changed my mind," I lied, knowing I never actually intended to stop talking to her in the first place.

"She's bad news. You shouldn't be hanging around her unless you wanna end up being a junkie," Mia mumbled and all joy from my face dropped as I turned to look at her with a glare.

"Mia, can you shut up for once?" I spat and she frowned, her mouth hanging open and Nate raised his eyebrows, his mouth in a downturned smile of surprise before he and Allie looked at each other briefly.

"You hang out with her for one day and you're already a dick. You just proved my point," Mia looked at me with a cocky smile and I rolled my eyes.

"You guys are so fucking annoying," I sighed, running a hand over my face as my mind flashed the moment she grabbed my lip to put the ring in my lip, "The only reason she was rude to you is because you were being a bitch about her sitting here and then not pairing up with Allie in gym. It's not that big of a deal."

"I mean... I've heard a lot of shit about her man," Nate piped up as he raised his eyebrows at me and I shook my head.

"Who cares? She's not this psycho everyone pretends she is," I defended her and Nate just shrugged, on the fence on whether or not he thought it was a good idea for me to be talking to her, "You guys just have to give her a chance."

"I don't have to do anything," Mia mumbled, her irritated tone making me grind my teeth together to keep my cool.

"If you wanna continue being my friend, Mia, you're gonna have to figure out why you're such a bitch to her," I huffed and Allie's eyes widened and before I could say anything further, the bell for our next class rang through my ears. I got up from the table without another word and made my way to my locker, playing with the ring on my lip that was quickly becoming a habit.

+++

My last two classes were spent trying to focus but instead, my brain wandered to Layla, hoping that Mia didn't scare her away from me. I leaned against the driver's side of my car, Nick and Chris talking about something as they walked over to me.

"Why aren't you in the car?" Chris asked, noting the fact that I usually waited for them in the driver's seat.

"Layla left her jacket. Gotta give it back to her," I told him honestly and he rolled his eyes as he jumped into the passenger seat. I was sure he was sick of me talking about her, I'd been building up the courage to talk to her for weeks and I constantly talked Chris's ear off about it. He always told me it was a bad idea and I, of course, never listened.

Nick slid in the back seat, shutting the door behind him and I felt the window behind me roll down. I turned around to see Chris holding her leather jacket out to me through the window and I gave him a small smile with a nod. He raised his eyebrows briefly as I took the jacket from him and he started rolling the window up.

"Just don't take forever. We gotta get our shit for training," Chris called out before the window was full rolled up. I turned back around as I hung the jacket over my left arm, pulling my phone out of my pocket to quickly check the time.

"I believe you have something of mine," Layla's voice rang through my ears and my head snapped up to see her standing in front of me, an amused look on her face. I stared at her for a moment, noticing that she was wearing her shorts from gym still and I could see a few more of her tattoos on her thighs before she spoke again, "You gonna give it to me or am I fighting you for it?"

"Oh right. My bad," I shook my head as I slipped my phone back into my pocket and handed her the jacket. I slid the ring off of my lip, wiping it with the hem of my shirt and I couldn't help but notice her eyes glance at the tattoos along my waist.

"Gonna miss that super cool lip ring," she said sarcastically as I chuckled, handing her the ring as her fingers brushed against mine. Her skin felt so much more soft than mine, it raised goosebumps along my arms.

"Give me another month and you won't have to miss it anymore," I smirked at her and I noticed her eyes lit up slightly as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"You're gonna get it?" she asked, her voice full of hope as she slid her bag off of her shoulder and slipped her jacket on before grabbing her bag again.

I shrugged, leaning back against the car again, "Probably. Under one condition."

"What?" she asked sceptically, her eyes squinting at me and I smiled.

"Come to my last three games this season," I stated and she tilted her head as she looked out into the parking lot in thought.

"I won't have a way to get there," she retorted and with a raise of my eyebrows, I pointed to the car behind me before pointing to myself, "I don't know what to wear to your games."

With a shrug, I said, "Just wear whatever you're comfortable in."

"What day are your games on?" she asked sceptically before she bit her lip and I tore my eyes away from her mouth and back up to her eyes.

"Fridays at five," I told her and she sighed, shaking her head.

"I don't know..." she trailed off and I bit my lip to hide my smile.

I sighed dramatically as I pushed off of the car, "Guess I won't be getting my lip pierced any time soon."

"Oh for fucks sake. Fine," she huffed and I smiled at her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'll have to pick you up around four because we need to be there early to warm up but you can wait in the car if you don't wanna come inside," I explained and she nodded, goosebumps covering the skin on her legs from the cold air, "You need a ride home?"

"We don't have time for that. Hurry the fuck up!" Chris called from inside the car and I held up a middle finger behind me to flip him off.

"Nah, I'll be good," she gave me a half smile and I nodded as she started to walk backwards, "I'll see you when I'm looking at you."

With that she spun around and started walking out of the car park, leaving me with a triumphant smile on my face. I hopped in the car to see Nick and Chris staring at me with a judgemental look on their face.

"What?" I asked with a smile but they both stayed silent as I started the car, driving back to our house to grab mine and Chris's gear for training.

[n1cholaswang]

ALL MINE — CJU

nonidol!au — boyfriends!bestfriend!jiung x afab!reader

cw: established relationship w/ intak, cheating (i don't condone it so don't do it mfs), first orgasm (lol ikr), unprotected sex, oral (f!r), praise, degradation, name calling, choking, rough sex, fingering (f!r), squirting (?), getting caught, idk tell me if i messed something

wc: 2.7k

a/n: after a long wait, here it is! i removed a little bit of content from my teaser post but that's cause i felt a little rushed and i wanted to get this out like... asap. i hope y'all enjoy even tho it's not the best. oh btw! lmk if you want a part 2 ;)

YOU and intak have been together for almost a year now and while things have been more than great, you couldn't help but feel like something was lacking.

two months into the relationship, intak had introduced you to his closest friends, taeyang, keeho, shota, jongseob, and jiung.

they all quickly became your friends and took you in as one of their own.

all except jiung.

while he put on the front that he was alright with you around, he wasn't. and that was mainly because, even if he had his eyes on you for a second, his cock would harden under his pants.

you are the most beautiful person he had ever seen before, and your intellect only intrigued him more. he wonders how someone like you could even be with someone like intak.

sure, intak was his friend and he adored him but when it comes to you, he could care less about intak, or anyone for that matter.

you didn't begin to get close with jiung until keeho's new year's get together.

you had found jiung on the balcony, looking over the city and quietly sipping his drink.

"whatcha doin out here all alone?", you joke, taking a seat next to him

he shrugs and takes another sip, staying utterly silent.

that was until your drunken thoughts got to you and made you start crying.

"you hate me!", you sob

he chokes on his drink, some of it spilling out of his mouth, "what?! what makes you think that?!"

"you never talk to me-"

"that doesn't mean i hate you, [name]"

the way your name rolled off his tongue was perfect. like, your name was made to be said by him.

"i thought intak already told you i'm a man of few words"

"he mentioned it but... i didn't believe him. you just seem so... friendly and outgoing"

he chuckles lowly, "why thank you. i try to be"

you and jiung talked all night, and right when the countdown started, here came intak and theo.

"3! 2! 1! happy new year!"

intak cupped your cheeks and kissed you with much adoration, while jiung sat on the other side of you, not bothering to look at the two of you.

it should be him kissing you. it should be him touching you, holding you, fucking you.

he thought about how cute you'd look with glossy eyes, begging to be fucked like a little bitch in heat.

he thought about how you'd look cumming around him and squirming under him while he fucks you through it.

he thought about how precious you'd look with your lips wrapped around his cock, pretty pink lips stained with the white thickness that would be his cum.

and there it was again, like clockwork, a fucking boner.

four months in and you finally got through to jiung.

so much so that you'd consider him one of your best friends.

you told him everything, even things you'd never dare to tell intak.

your declaration made water trickle down from his nose, "intak can't make you cum?"

you nod.

"so... you've never had an orgasm?"

"nope", you respond calmly

jiung's mind went wild. thought after thought of wanting to be your first everything.

you both sat in silence, you gnawing on your bottom lip to ignore the fact you're incredibly embarrassed and jiung fighting with his thoughts to not say what he really wanted to say.

"would you like me to change that?"

and of course, he let his thoughts win. but in his case, who else but him should make you writhe?

and that's where it all started: just one orgasm forced by his fingers.

who knew from that day forward you two couldn't keep your hands off each other.

every time you're left alone together, it's within seconds that your lips are pressed together and moving in perfect sync, your clothes on the floor, and getting fucked deeply into the mattress.

you'll never do it again, you promise yourself, for intak's sake. but why does it feel so good? why does being with jiung feel so fucking good?

your affair with jiung was a sin but why do you not care so much?

intak was a beautiful lover, taking the time to pepper every inch of skin with kisses and whimpering in your ear about how much he loves you.

but jiung, he was a devilish lover. all he has to do is look at you and you'll know exactly what he wants. he'll look at you then to the floor and you'll know exactly what he wants. with one calling motion of his fingers, you're on your knees for him.

intak has told you about how thoughtful and kindhearted jiung is. but with you, oh he's a demon in disguise.

on intak's birthday, jongseob and soul came up with the idea to eat lunch at this luxurious restaurant in seoul.

but little did the birthday boy know, his girlfriend was stuffed full of his best friend's fingers.

jiung would slowly thrust his ringed fingers into [name], making her hunch over their plate.

"doll, are you alright?"

intak's sudden question pulled you out of that state of pleasure.

you look up at him and nod, "mhm, i'm fine lover boy"

you reach out to grab his hand then jiung's fingers curled up inside of you, thrusting faster than before and nearly pressing the spot that makes you whimper and clench around his knuckles.

you slam your thighs shut, giving him the signal to stop and thankfully, he does.

and as soon as jiung's dessert was set on the table, he took two of his fingers — the same two fingers that was just inside of you, scissoring your hole — and gathered the whipped cream, placing his fingers in his mouth and licking it clean.

the whole table looked at him weird, keeho's face curling up in disgust.

"jiung, we are in public"

"what? it's sweet"

keeho rolls his eyes, "bitch we're still in public"

"let me do me"

"today is not your birthday, do you in two months"

jiung leans back in his chair and pokes at his piece of cake with his fork, "i know someone who'll do me in two months", he muttered.

"your hand isn't a who", jongseob says nonchalantly before eating his spoonful of his dessert.

everyone but jiung bursts into laughter at jongseob's snarky remark, but he was right.

someone would be doing him in 2 months, on his birthday.

you went into jiung's room, seeing his headphones on his head and a fashion show playing on his monitor.

you snuck up behind him and slowly pulled his headphones off, giving him a gentle kiss on his earlobe.

you see the corners of his lips curl up before he turns around, his smile fading.

jiung didn't know you had owned a choker.

jiung didn't know you had owned a short pastel blue and white plaid skirt.

jiung didn't know you had owned a lace bralette.

and jiung certainly didn't know about the white stockings with the prettiest, little blue bows on them.

his eyes traveled up and down your body endlessly, his eyebrows raising and jaw dropping.

"do you like it?"

"like it?", he huffed, "i love it"

he extends his hands, going straight for your waist and pulling you in between his legs. his calloused but gentle fingers felt you up, sliding up and down your sides to your outer thighs before comfortably slipping under your skirt to cup your ass.

you giggle at his excitement, his hands kneading with the flesh of your ass and placing little kisses on your stomach.

"is this mine tonight?", he asks before slapping your ass.

you smile at him, resting your hands on his shoulders, "since it's your birthday, i'm fully at your disposal today"

"happy birthday to me then"

jiung pulls you into his lap, your thighs straddling his. he leans back, taking you down with him and kissing you.

you felt yourself getting warmer, and wetter, his experienced hands cupping your tits. he begins to kiss your collarbones, gradually making his way up to your neck.

"since you're mine for the next 24 hours", he mumbles against your skin, "if i want you, you'll come to me, right?"

you hum in response as jiung's hands grope your ass once again.

"even if you're with intak?"

your lips press together into a line as you thought about how to answer that.

on one hand, it was jiung's birthday and you wanted to make him feel special since you've been spending all your time with your boyfriend. but on the other hand, you didn't want intak to be suspicious.

"yes, even if i'm with intak"

what the fuck [name] i thought you were still thinking, you cursed at yourself.

you assume that was the answer he wanted to hear. as soon as those words left your mouth, jiung lifted you up and stood from his chair, walking over to his bed and placing you on it, his body hovering over yours.

his hands traveled up your legs to your thighs, groping at the flesh of your outer thighs then moving down to get on his knees.

"try to stay still", he mumbles before lifting your skirt

his eyes dart up to yours, "no panties? wow, this really is a birthday gift", he nearly squeals

jiung wasted no time dipping his head into your core. his wet tongue flattened against your folds, prying them apart with the tip and gathering up all the sweet wetness seeping from your hole.

when he lightly sucks on your folds, you squirm and close your legs around his head but his arms link around your thighs, parting them and forcing you to keep them open as he continues to suck on you.

his tongue travels up and down before setting up a home on your clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue before bringing it into his mouth, suckling on the bud like it was a baby bottle.

you tried to keep your composure but you couldn't help but moan. the more you tried to close your legs, the tighter his grip got and the more he sucked on you.

his tongue pushed into your hole, your walls tightening around him.

your mouth opened to plead with him to stop, but the only thing that came out was a carnal groan as the fire in the pit of your stomach grows. jiung's tongue plunges in and out of you as his nose presses against your clit, adding pressure onto the already mind blowing head.

your fingers grip at his hair, yanking harshly as your orgasm is right around the corner.

but it was quickly ruined as he pulled away, lips glistening with your arousal. jiung stands on his feet, pulling him sweatpants and boxers down, his rock hard cock springing into the air. the angry red tip was leaking precum and you couldn't wait to put that beautiful cock of his inside you.

he grabs your thighs and pulls you to the end of the bed, his tip prodding at your hole before slowly sliding in. your wetness covered his cock from the tip to the base as you pull him down to your lips by his black tank top.

your lips collide and in the heat of the moment, jiung begins to thrust into you at a moderate pace, your soft moans muffled by his swollen and wet lips.

you begin to move your hips with his, fucking him back. and this only riled up jiung more.

he stopped, his hands placed next to your head and his blonde hair in your face as he watches you take his cock by yourself.

he huffs, "you're such a little slut for me", he looks back up at you, his eyes hooded and dark with desire, "aren't you, pretty girl?"

his voice was low which only made more arousal escape from your already stuffed hole, not that he minded. he loved the messes you made for him, and just for him.

normally jiung was a clean, very neat individual but once you're under him, all that goes out the window.

he pulls away, his cock slipping out with a string of wetness still connecting you to each other. he flipped you over onto your stomach, bunching the tight short skirt you had on and pulling you nearly off the bed.

he wraps a hand around himself, pumping it a few times before entering you again, this time at a dangerously slow pace. his thrusts became deep, his tip brushing against that gooey spot inside of you while he lays down on you and kisses the shell of your ear.

"i'm gonna make you mine..."

his hips lift up, slamming into yours as he puts much power and emphasis into his next words.

"all... fucking... mine..."

you cry out as his cock hits that spot again and again, more wetness leaving you and sticking to jiung's pelvis.

he groans as you clench around him, standing up and slapping your ass before pressing your hips deep into the mattress below you, putting all his strength onto keeping you still.

jiung's hips pull so far back you thought he was coming out of you before he pushes back into you again, your whole body moving forward from the force and you screaming out in pleasure.

he does it again, hearing you call out his name in desperation before he does it again.

he continues with that action, his tip kissing your cervix and your head buried into the mattress, fingers tugging on the bedsheets and arousal squirting all over his pelvis and lower stomach.

he smiles at the mess you're making together before he pulls out, slapping his hard wet cock onto your puffy lips and sliding back into you.

you couldn't hold out any longer, he's fucking you so good you don't know if you can even stand after this.

"can i cum? please?!", your head lifts up just enough for him to hear

"of course princess. i want you to cum all over me. cum on this cock, your cock"

"ain't this dick yours?", you could hear the smirk in his voice

"yes! 's mine!"

"and that perfect little pussy? whose is it?"

you groan loudly, your orgasm was right there.

"please... please... fuck please"

he could feel your legs shaking and he's satisfied, knowing he's the only man who would turn you into a babbling baby.

jiung pulls at your hair, forcing you to stand as he puts a hand on your throat and another on your stomach. he feels the bulge of his cock buried deep into you and the grip on your throat tightens as the thought of him breaking you invaded his mind.

and with one more powerful thrust, you're screaming. he acts quickly and kisses you, your noises being muddled again as your legs and body shakes under his touch.

your body collapses onto the bed, little tremors making you fuck jiung just a bit.

"ha-ppy birthday... j-jiung...", you say out of breath

"a happy birthday it is indeed", he smiles

he pulls out of you, getting back into his knees and licking his lips, about to devour your pussy again.

that is until the room door opens.

"hey jiung! happy bir-"

jongseob stops mid sentence, not being able to believe his eyes.

there you were, damn near naked and exposed in front of jiung and him with his cock out, still wet from just fucking you and his lips close to connecting with your folds.

jongseob rubs his eyes, seeing if he was just hallucinating but no, he wasn't.

"don't you say a word about this to intak"

"i... i wasn't even here..."

jongseob backs up slowly, shutting the door and shuddering in both disgust and confusion.

he never took you for a cheater, let alone a homie hopper. but as he stood there and thought about it some more, it begins to make sense.

every time you and jiung are left alone, you two always come back with messy hair and clothes. once, your lipstick was slightly smeared on his fingers after the boys left you two alone for an hour.

it all makes sense now to jongseob, but he couldn't dare to tell intak, even though intak was calling him.

"hello?"

"did jiung like his present?!", he was ecstatic

"y-yeah... he liked it..."

[musings-and-moans]

homewrecker

submission for: @cirigiri's The DILF List Collab (DILF #17 — the friend’s husband) AND for iwaizumi's birthday on the 10th of june. also, this is part 1, part 2 is coming out on the 21st, and part 3 during kinktober <3

features: friend's husband!hajime iwaizumi x mrs. oikawa!f!reader (afab!reader, uses she/her pronouns) | song: homewrecker - marina | wc: 4185 | part 2 | part 3

summary: while hajime iwaizumi is a highly successful athletic trainer, his marriage is in disarray. his wife ended up cheating on him even after having a son, kaito iwaizumi, when she went on a business trip to argentina; with his best buddy, tooru oikawa, of all people. he wasn't the only one who had been duped, though. so were you, tooru oikawa's wife, and with a daughter, melina jose oikawa. you remembered your pent-up sentiments for hajime while comforting each other, and things start to take a spicy turn. | visual inspiration: this artwork by @/novak.rouge on instagram (@beware-of-the-rogue the way you and ella have spoiled me xD) and serena mendoza is inspired by serena van der woodsen from gossip girl (yes i love that show gtfo my case lol /j /lh)

beta readers: @mrskenmakozume @sweetsbysatori (your inputs are so so valuable ilysm <333) | networks: @tokyometronetwork @hanayanetwork

brainstorming: @mxonigirimiya (this wouldn't have been possible without you so thank you so so much *sobs* <33)

content warnings: hq timeskip spoilers, themes of infidelity, suggestive tones, angst, hurt/comfort, usage of swear words (this is so not me lol, i just had a rough couple of days, and this is me venting lol), serena's called a bitch, paparazzi, mentions of body insecurity/dysmorphia (but not reader), the reader having symptoms of depression including having trouble with eating, mentions of consumption of alcohol, sexual tension, slightly dubcon (if you squint at the end) 'cause iwaizumi's speaking in a slurred voice, please lmk if i miss out on any tags

a/n: this took me a lot of while to come up with this lol, because it's writing about my kinnie in a bad light, but it's only for the sake of the plot y'all. but i honestly loved writing this, i'd been in a bad mood off late and i needed to vent out. also, please note that i don't ever condone cheating. as always, likes, comments & reblogs, especially reblogs are appreciated. also, minors please dni, i will block you.

9th May 2021. 7:00pm, San Juan, Argentina

The waves from the cerulean sea kissed your toes as you were sitting near the shoreline in Del Bono with your elbows on the clear sand. The incandescent moon shone light on your shimmery silver dress and sand-covered feet which had become sore after running away from the izakaya after one of your colleagues shared the news where you learned that your husband, the setter of Club Atletico San Juan, Tooru Oikawa, was rumored to have cheated on you with your best friend since university, Serena Mendoza. You heaved a long drawn sigh as you felt something punching your gut as you then sat up with your hands hugging your stomach, writhing in agony, and tears welling in your eyes. Your heart broke for your daughter, as you wondered whether she heard the news about her father, and wondered whether her classmates would eventually make fun of her. She was at no fault of this at all, but was unnecessarily caught in this crossfire. 

Wiping the tears from your waterline, for a moment you think about Serena, one of the richest, most popular and good looking girls at the University of California at Irvine, who became your best friend over your course of study at the university. She was regarded as one of the most beautiful girls in your university. Everyone wanted to be her, some wanted to be with her, and you, (Y/N) (L/N), having moved to the States from Japan, had considered yourself very lucky to befriend her. 

The day after you two graduated from uni, you two were lying on one of the sands of the California beaches. You let the sand below you cling to you as you wore a swimsuit with every inch of the fabric hugging your skin especially after you’d gone for a swim, while Serena wore her black V-neck one-piece swimsuit, her body and her long, wavy blonde locks basked in the glory of the sunshine, waiting for you to get back. As you two were lying down, soaking in the sun, Serena said, “You know something? Someday, it would be nice for us to get married to a pair of best friends, wouldn’t it?” As the water kisses your feet, you turn to Serena and add, “Famous best friends, maybe? And if we end up getting a high profile job too, someday we wouldn’t have to worry about our life, y’know? ‘Cause we’d be living a life of luxury,” chuckling amongst yourselves.

Boy, how you were wrong.

10th May 2021. 7:00am, Tokyo, Japan

“We now begin this special program with breaking news as we see clips showing the well known setter for the San Juan Volleyball Team, Tooru Oikawa, walking out of his hotel with someone other than his wife. Sources say…”

As Iwaizumi was told by Atsumu Miya, one of his athletes that he was training for the Olympics, to watch the news online through his iPad,  the world came to a standstill for him. He was beyond disbelief, seeing his wife and the mother of their son, as the mystery woman who was scuttling inside the hotel with Oikawa’s arm around her waist as he kissed her on her lips. He could make out that it was Serena through her blonde tresses, and the emerald earrings that he gave her for their anniversary.

“Haji,” he heard her calling for him once more, interrupting his train of thought, but the voice that once brought him joy now wrung his heart, causing him to be in profound agony. He turned in the direction of the gradually unfamiliar voice as he noticed Serena walking out of their bedroom in her work attire. She’d seen a little frantic, when she asked him, “Haji, where’s our son?” Furrowing his eyebrows at her, the athletic trainer responded, “That’s not something you needed to know,” then shrugged his shoulders to continue, “given that you don’t care for him anyway, but I’d already contacted my parents to take him in.” Serena widened her eyes in shock, raising her voice, “How dare you! He’s our son! How dare you make such decisions without consulting me?” 

Approaching her, Hajime confronted his wife, and replied, “Serena, you lost that right. Not when you chose to go to Buenos Aires for the trip. You lost the right to call me your husband and Kaito as our son, when you decided to fuck my best friend,” raising his voice at the end and pointing a finger towards her. Serena’s mouth gaped wide open as he told her, “Atsumu showed me the news. That bastard woke me up at 7am! I’m glad that he did though, because you cheated on me, and betrayed your best friend, by sleeping with my asshole of a best friend! Oh my god, do you have any idea what she must be going through?” In the midst of the long argument, initially she kept denying it, saying, “No, Haji, that’s so not true. I just met him and caught up with him. That’s all,” and she kept trying to change the topic, but fate wasn’t on her side as she got a ping on the phone from Oikawa. He snatched the phone from her and then saw a notification from the beguiling devil himself. As he opened the phone, the text gave him enough reasonable doubt to confirm his suspicions:

“Serena-chan, what are we gonna do? (Y/N)-chan hasn't seen the news yet, has Iwa-chan? How are we going to explain this without getting caught?”

His olive-green irises started seeing red, but instead of deciding to lash out at Serena, which even she expected, an idea sparked into his head. He took a deep breath and he then proceeded to dial your number. As you lifted the phone, he was met with your ragged breaths and sniffles, as you replied with a lump in your throat, “Hello, Iwaizumi?” For a moment, when he heard you, he felt your heart break along with his, but he knew he had to be strong for the both of you. 

He’d known you and Serena since the time you three studied together in Irvine. You and Iwaizumi did not have much in common, but you two were willing to be a part of each other’s interests. You two would watch Godzilla together while you would take him along with Serena out on a drive. Whether it was playing volleyball, playing in the arcade, or sipping on some horchata while gorging on some tacos, you loved to hang outdoors. You two slowly started to become thick as thieves, and you started to have feelings for him.

However, when he confessed one day that he had feelings for Serena, it caused your heart to break inside and you were a little jealous of her, but you had kept all the negativity aside, resigning yourself to thinking that he would never be interested in you to begin with. So, when Oikawa dropped by to visit Iwaizumi, the former ace introduced you to his childhood best friend who started shadowing his idol, the former setter-turned-coach Jose Blanco, when he joined the Club Atletico San Juan, one of the most popular teams in the Argentinian Volleyball Federation.

Tooru had once come across as smug initially, but he eventually captured your heart over you two having a lot more in common with each other, and you had similar experiences growing up. You two eventually fell in love with each other, and you and Tooru and Serena and Hajime got married on the same day. While Hajime and Serena worked in the States, the former gaining American citizenship, you had worked with Serena for a while, until you and Oikawa moved to Argentina, with him gaining Argentinian citizenship.

“Hi, it’s… been a while, hasn’t it?” Iwaizumi asked you, in a softer tone, causing Serena to open her mouth in shock. Taking a long drawn breath, you responded with a quivering voice, “It has, but it’s sad we’re talking under these circumstances.” He nodded, inquiring while Serena widened her eyes, “When did you find out?” Drooping your shoulders, you continued, “I was at an izakaya with my co-workers after we had a successful presentation. Before coming here, it felt really awkward. Many of my co-workers were giving me weird looks throughout the day, until some of them decided to treat me to a drink in the evening. You know that she and I decided to be colleagues in the American Volleyball Association where Kuroo-san referred us before I transferred to Argentina, right? So, I contacted my boss after knowing the news and he granted me permission to work from home. I’ve never done this, Iwa! I take pride in going to work everyday, and I just…” 

You couldn’t speak anymore because you’d started sobbing, smearing your makeup. Iwa repeatedly called your name to calm you down, while flashing his hand at Serena to stop her from walking towards him. Having gained your attention, you replied, “I don’t know what to do, I’m going to be booking a cab home as of now.” He then interrupted you by saying, “Before you do that, I think you need to call Oikawa. This needs to be talked about.” Your eyes widened as fear and anger gripped you, snarking, “wait, is that bitch here?” He hummed in response, causing you to respond, “you know what? Let’s do that. Also, please put the phone on speaker.” 

While Serena does not move an inch, Hajime put the phone in front of him and turned on the speaker, while side-eyeing at her. After a couple of minutes, a familiar voice was heard out loud. “Ola, mi amõr. What's up? Practice is wrapping up, so I’m on my way home. What do you want for dinner?” The whole room could sense that he was acting like nothing happened. Then you continued, “Tooru, I saw the news. I know that you’re having an affair with Serena.” An uncomfortable silence lingered in the room, before Oikawa breaks it, replying in an act of defiance, “Baby, it's not what it looks like,” when Hajime chimed in, exclaiming with seething rage, “So what is it then, Shittykawa, ‘cause it looks like you're all over my wife!” 

Serena then cried out, “Tooru, I did not tell him anything,” with you interrupting her, saying, “Shut up, bitch, no one wants to listen to you!” Tooru was shocked, and he softly replied, “Mi amor, can we talk about this by ourselves, at home? I’m so sorry–” Shaking your head, you retorted, “Nah. You’re only sorry that you got caught. So, either we can’t talk about it at all, or we can talk about it now since you decided to embarrass not just yourself, but all four of us on an international stage. Do you know how many weird looks I got today? Huh? I'd have to call my boss for some days off or to work from home, because paparazzi would probably be fucking hounding my office, putting my job at risk, so I'm at the beach, and I’ll be going back home now, and I’m sure the cameras have reached there too,” you shrug and raise your voice, continuing, “packing our bags, and taking Melina with me to Tokyo, where you’re not going to follow me, do you understand, Oikawa?” 

During this time, Oikawa gets a call from Jose Blanco, his coach, and Iwaizumi from Fuki Hibarida, the coach of the Japanese National Volleyball Team. Both of them were urged to put the phone via a conference call, where everyone was present. You muted your side of the call out of respect but didn't cut the call. Instead, you got up, rustled your dress, and booked a cab home. “Oikawa,” Blanco spoke first, “you’re our most important player in the team, so how is it that your dirty laundry is now aired?” Hibarida continued, “we’ve decided to arrange the conference call, because one, we know that you two have been friends growing up, so this better be fixed somehow, and two, the Olympics are on the way and we don’t want any bad press to affect our games. So, you two better fucking get it together or both of you're off your respective teams, because we're not going to risk our image by being associated with that mess.” Nodding with a single tear streaming down his cheek, Hajime responded, “We are so sorry, Hibarida-san and Blanco-san for all the chaos that’s been happening. I’ll be organizing a press conference tomorrow and come clean. I hope Oikawa does the same, because a lot is at stake here, including our friendship, which has already gone to the dogs. Have a good day, both of you.” 

When both of them hung up, you unmuted yourself and continued speaking, “I’m home now. I’m telling our daughter  that we’re taking an impromptu trip to her grandparents’ place, in Miyagi. Hajime, since our parents live nearby, why don’t you bring your son there?” With a soft smile on his face, he replied, “Already did that, (y/n). It will be nice for our kids to bond. Where will you be staying?” 

“I’ll be staying over at a friend’s place,” you continued, “We’ll be in touch, Haji. But before I hang up, I want to ask the both of you something. Tooru, what did she give you that I couldn't? Serena, what did he give you that Hajime couldn’t provide? What could have been so lacking in our respective marriages, that you, Tooru sought it out in not just any woman, but the wife of your best friend for almost 2 decades? The same question goes to you too, Serena.” Both of them sheepishly replied, “I don't know,” making both you and Iwaizumi even more furious. You then hung up and tried to find a way to collect your emotions and move out to a friend’s place with your daughter before you move back to Tokyo the next day.

On the following day, Hajime and Tooru organized a press conference at their respective places, and Tooru was the first to speak, “Good evening everyone. This press conference is being held to come clean and ensure that our Olympic game is not jeopardized. The rumors are true: I did have an affair with Iwaizumi's wife. All of us have known each other since college days, and Iwaizumi and I grew up together. So, this in no way excuses my actions, or our actions. We were drunk, we acted impulsively without thinking about the impact it would have on our partners We are sorry—not only to everyone we disappointed, but especially to our partners whom we betrayed in one of the most intimate ways. Having said that, it was a one time thing that never should have happened, and all we can do is ask for forgiveness,” half-lying in the end. Then Hajime continued, “Our families request privacy as we figure out how to move forward after this scandal. So, I hope that all of you will respect our decisions in this matter. And to those who are fans of the team and of the sport of volleyball, I request that this isolated incident should not affect your love for it at all. Above all, we’ll always be fans of the sport, no matter what. The press conference ends here.”

Days have passed since you moved out of Argentina back to Tokyo, and you and Hajime had told Serena and Tooru that you two were separating from the both of them. Upon reaching Tokyo, you’d contacted your childhood friend, Tetsuro Kuroo, who was now a sports promoter at the Japan Volleyball Association, who gave you a separate house to live in for a couple of days, and was even willing to refer you for a spot in the JVA, should you wanted to come back to work. You responded, saying that you would think it over. In the meantime, Iwaizumi moved out of the house and contacted his other best friends, Issei Matsukawa and Hanamaki Takahiro. “Bro, we’re really sorry that that happened and you can stay with either one of us,” Mattsun replied over the phone, “however, Oikawa was lying about one thing. It was not a one time thing, Iwaizumi. They’d been sleeping with each other even when you all were just dating.” Hajime felt a sinking feeling within him when he learnt of the dirty little secret.

Despite all the four settling with each other in different countries, Oikawa and Serena had a secret that neither Hajime nor you were aware of. Even though Tooru and Serena loved you two a lot, enough to want to start families  with the both of you, they loved each other differently. The secret glances they shared, the trips they would secretly take to meet each other, the marks they had to hide and everything else surrounding their years of tryst were oblivious to you two. They were never caught, except by some of his Argentinian friends who tried to convince him to stop the affair, until now. Mattsun had eventually learned of this the month before the press leak, when he ended up snooping through Oikawa’s phone when he’d come to Japan for some time before the Olympics. Mattsun told Makki and while the both of them confronted Oikawa and told him to inform Hajime, he said that he would, but since they knew that he wouldn’t, Makki left an anonymous tip to the press who started tracking them, hence the press leak. The day of the press leak, Oikawa lost his cool when he saw the only DM from Makki ‘cause they’d usually talk over the phone: “I hope you enjoy explaining your affair to the press, Oikawa :D”

The first few days went by very drearily, causing you to weep profusely. This affected you so much that it caused you to have sleepless nights and bouts of overeating and not eating at all. You were scared to go to work again so after a couple of days, you contacted your boss saying that you wanted to work from home until the situation died down. So, you started slowly gaining your energy back, and with employing a couple of self-care options, you were slowly feeling better yourself. This didn’t stop you from suddenly thinking about the whole situation without it constantly pricking you. You’d told Tooru that you wanted to be separated and you wanted time to think for yourself and the custody of your daughter. It was especially hard when you’d be in touch with your daughter and you were not able to say anything to her just yet. She may have your hair and your features but she had Tooru’s eyes, and it pained you to see her brown irises  and be reminded of him.

With Hajime, it was different. 

In any case, he kept to himself anyway. Nonetheless, people did still know him as an athletic trainer, and through a couple of viral videos of him working out, he was also referred to as a “DILF.” He never missed looking in the mirror since he started working out consciously and living a healthy lifestyle, and he was proud to see his muscle mass growing in the right places. As he raked his fingers through his hair, he would flex his biceps and admire the physique he was trying to build for himself. 

He was not ashamed of the way he looked. It may have bothered him that he was shorter than Tooru, but he was happy with how he lived. He was aware that Tooru was more popular with girls than he was. However, whenever Serena complimented him and told him that he still looked attractive and that she was lucky to be with him, he became much more at ease. But with her having cheated on him, he suddenly felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, realizing that she may have been lying. He suffered a significant blow to his self-confidence, not only as a partner but also as a parent and a person. The moments he felt like not working out, he would skip it, but would be chided by Mattsun, Makki, and you. 

Everyday you’d check in with Hajime to figure things out as to how you two would be able to cope with everything. You were able to convince one of your old friends who work in the grocery store to deliver the groceries to Hajime so he could avoid the paparazzi, and since Kuroo gets his groceries delivered anyway, you don't have to go out either. This wasn’t just to calm everything down, it's also to salvage your images because you didn’t want people to pity you as the left-behind partners. You two were much more than that. Because life had been kicking the both of you hard, while you two were occasional drinkers, your quantities eventually started increasing. You two somehow found a way to sneak to each other’s houses without garnering unwanted attention. Even if it was for a brief moment, you two indulged in a temporary escape with each other, ignoring the reality that was haunting the both of you. 

One day, at his house, when you two were watching a comedy movie while hogging on some popcorn together, while laughing, your hand subconsciously landed on his thigh and then your eyes turned to each other. Your heart started to beat faster as your eyes landed on his. Ragged breaths were echoed throughout the room, as he closed the laptop. As he was cupping your cheeks and drew your face closer, he asked you slowly, gentlemanly, “(y/n), can I please-” and as you were about to give in to the temptation, your phone buzzed causing you to jolt from your carnal trance as your daughter called you. Sensing that you needed time to think about all that just happened, you told him that you were leaving and that you’d meet him later. 

As you finish speaking with your daughter, while driving back home, your mind then lingers back to the first time when you first saw him at the university's recreation center, his dark brown, spiky hair caught your attention and then his green eyes which truly captured your attention. In discussing the intramural tournaments with him as you were interested in signing up, you found his toned figure attractive. You were standing at the registration desk when Serena grabbed your arm and whispered into your ear, “oooh, did you notice the dickprint on his shorts?  Because that looks so satisfying,” and you did notice a slight bulge in his shorts as you glanced over at him.

He seemed to get the memo when your gaze meets his, as he winked at you, making your cheeks flush as you parted ways. Ever since then, over the years, whenever you touched yourself, as your fingers ran over your clit, everyday, even when you were married to Tooru, you still kept thinking of Hajime as you imagined him calling you, “baby,” as he thrusted himself inside you. You were scared to tell Serena about how you felt for him because they told you individually, and out of respect for both of them, you kept your feelings aside and you genuinely started to like Tooru, but you couldn’t stop thinking of Hajime. How could you? You were truly in love with him.

9th June, 2021. 11:30pm

You realized that it was Hajime’s birthday coming soon, and no sooner did you think about him, than you were immediately reminded of the moment you two had shared when you two almost kissed each other, causing your cheeks to fluster. You’d wanted him for so long, but never got to act on the feelings, but that day, when your lips were about to meet, you realized that you haven’t had sex in so long. Your marriage with Oikawa had fallen apart at its seams, and while you had been thinking of getting back to him for your daughter, that moment with Hajime made you realize that you’d rather have the athletic trainer more than the setter.

Having then downed a few glasses of wine, and craving to be intimate with him, you put your lacy underwear under Hajime’s oversized volleyball shirt, turned on your vibrator, placed it over your clit, and felt the vibrations run through you. Initially, you moved the tip of the toy slowly up your entrance before you let it enter you, then you increase the speed. You were fondling yourself, bursting out in a series of moans when you heard a knock at your door. As you awoke for a brief moment and wondered what was happening, you kept the vibrator on your bedside table. You ran to the door, opening it with your eyes wide and shocked at who was there. The former ace mumbles in a slurred voice, picking you up as he wraps your legs around his waist. He takes your cheeks to bring you closer and begins to kiss you.

© Shyna 2022 - reposting on any other platform is not allowed. likes, comments, and especially reblogs are appreciated. (taglist in next rb)

[mftm1987]

all-time dream peche show/set

some of y'all bless n keep u are weird enough to want this information and because i am quite literally an information professional (librarian) i spent too much time and thought on this. at least a lot of it was on the clock lmao putting this under a cut bc it goes off

a lil note

i tried to choose songs i know them to perform, which i suppose in some ways defeats the purpose of something like this lol i guess the dream part is in the production/performance. and alan still being in the band and it somehow being 1987 but they also have access to their entire back catalog. anyway! i reference a lot of mixes throughout and i don't necessarily mean they perform it exactly like that as opposed to the originally released version, more.. thats the vibe i'd want the arrangement to channel

set list

instrumental intro - painkiller (w bc/cta industrial samples. basically would love to see alan get his grubby rat claws on this one)

first quarter: classic pechay mold - walking in my shoes (anandamidic mix) - policy of truth (think the way dave’s busting this out on mm tour is maybe its platonic ideal) - stripped (highland mix + 101 rlly going off with the giant sound pads)

second quarter: we r grooving - halo (no notes whatsoever. a setlist with express purpose of GROOVE and i could take lessons) - mercy in you (devotional. the way it’s a gospel disco hit in 1996..if you come up w a better way to arrange this lmk) - in your room (album version obv + apex mix as the outro which litr samples judas/leads into)

martin songs: wanna see that man suffering and healed - judas (grooving outro fucking required this is my huge and glaring shade on devotional lol) - home (alan could have fun w this one i think) - strangelove (starts w mm tour acoustic mart + finishes with full backing n shared lead)

third quarter: let’s have some fun! - shake the disease (a vault classic that i’d love to see them do something weird with) - nothing (101 guitar moment w the caveat i have heard rumors of a ‘devotionalised’ version that didnt end up on the setlist and if it truly fucks like i hope it would, then that) - john the revelator (influence of the unkle reconstruction aka that twinkling far out grungy thing. feel like mart on guitar and alan sparkling along the keys would be mmmmmmmm)

mart n dave duet interlude - sweetest perfection/condition mix (alright ive seen no one discuss this but these 2 share more than similar names!! i can hear it!!! and to get an a. wilder layered sonic journey..i wouldnt know how to act)

fourth quarter: we R grooving redux (R for haRd) - it’s no good (influence of hardfloor mix) - enjoy the silence (devotional/onip aka mart get nasty with that solo and dave be gay about it)(alright this is gonna be controversial for this blog but i think it’s gotta be the paris version for this show. it’s such a filthy solo and also imagine alan on the drums for it)(whos playing the keys bitch this is a fantasy) - nlmda (aggro mix intro + split mix Yes at least 10 mins of this song)

encore: oh y’all wanted to dance huh - personal jesus (funnily enough with how Much™ i want everything else to be, playing this one straight might be the highest camp experience it can give) - master and servant (101 sound pads and outro breakdown) - just can’t get enough (live in hamburg where they just fuck UP that 12”)

2nd encore: peche mode is a sad band, but the best band in the world - a question of lust (flood mix) - black celebration (101 w all its extra interesting lil sounds is a fav but i’d be SO open to a new alan take on this one) - everything counts (the graph/on the wall/the hand shake versions only. everyone else need not apply)(yes that means u devotional)

setting and era (musically/aesthetically)

as for the musical era, here’s the thing: if alan is present (and as it’s my dream dm show he is) i trust him to unify All This under some kind of cohesive performance. these are but humble suggestions of my fav arrangements. i’d say the underlying theme of my choices is High on the groove scale, but also very much wanting old school peche banging with hammers

outdoor on the lawn venue. ideally june 1, so it’s alans bday n dave hopefully won’t shut up abt it. looks-wise mftm/101 w shades of violator dark summer sexy. in high fantasyland: alan’s got that bisexual denim on leather look of drumming personal jesus in 89. mart’s tits are slipping out of that super low cut tank of 90 with the armband on. fletch is in his cunty mock turtleneck. dave’s in leather pants, a red tank n shirt and The Jacket that he gradually strips out of of (feels sacrilegious to not have him in a crop top in the late 80s so let’s just say his tank rides up a lil hehe)

mostly devotional visuals tho colorized less blue/purple lol, the big sans-serif Ms of memento mori were also giving for me. always love a dual-level setup for a dm show, but only if dave can traipse about both levels and flirt with whomsoever he chooses (which he will)

[toxicanonymity]

🎃 blushing and kicking my feet I'm glad y'all liked my little fic of a fic 🥰🥰 I will definitely write a next part since there's interest:) If you want me to explore any ideas or kinks to write in lmk! I do have a rough plan and it does involve what's in the box lol. Thank you and keep being amazing! 🖤🖤🖤 P.s. only about 100 days left until Halloween!

cucking WHAT IF pt. 2

This follows: cucking stepdad w/ another Joel (by Toxic) and what if they continued pt. 1

The cucking continues!

by HALLOWEEN ANON

Anonymous asked:

As promised here is my part 2 to Thighs/Stepdad pool fun. I honestly felt kind of bad torturing stepdad after everything he went through yesterday so I was less mean than planned and added a reference about how he cums a lot based on Amazon. This will be the end of my fic of a fic with these fine Joels but I have something else planned that's with my own Joel creation (gilfy!sub!Joel). There's an Easter egg at the end of this fic if interested. :) I'm not as proud of this part but was still fun. Thanks Toxic we 🖤 you!- 🎃

Joel (SDJ) inspects the box that was rolled into his new room on a room service cart. On top of the cart was a steak, a bowl of strawberries, a bottle of Dom, and a pitcher of ice water. Under the long white cloth on the cart sat the box. It was light blue with a white ribbon. “The fuck…” SDJ thought as he stared at the giant bow. What could be inside? And what was this game you were playing with him? Haven’t you tortured him enough?

He takes a bite of steak and groans. Easily the best meal he’s had on this entire trip. He chews on the salty, slightly charred meat and forgot for a minute about his shame. His fork and knife digs into the flesh, cutting vigorously as he gulps down the champagne like Sunny D, straight from the bottle. He bites into three strawberries, one after the other. He chases down the sweet fruit with another swig of alcohol. But the steak is what is satiating his hunger. The knife scrapes against the expensive plate over and over. He vigorously cuts into it and fills his greedy mouth with the salty flesh, a little blood dripping down his chin.

SDJ falls back on the bed after inhaling the meat and fruit. SDJ looks at the box again and opens his phone back to the picture you sent him. His cock stirs in his pants and he sighs. Another slug of Dom. Before he knows it the bow is undone and he’s staring inside at the seemingly random items neatly piled inside.

A bottle of lube, a ziploc bag containing something hot pink, and a pool noodle cut in half. Joel stares at the contents until his phone buzzes. A video. From you. He scrambles to open it and sees you, just you, and a foreign hand on your thigh. “Hey” you say simply and smile. Joel’s heart breaks at the sweet greeting and sweeter smile. “Hey” you say and smile again as he rewinds the video. “Hey” Joel says aloud to your paused face. How can you look so cute but absolutely filthy at the same time? He presses play.

“I hope you enjoyed your meal, it was very generous of him [Thighs Out] to get you your own room and an expensive dinner…his idea not mine.” You roll your eyes and look off camera. A chuckle off camera and a pat of your thigh from the unapendaged hand on your thigh. You look back at the camera.

“I miss you” you purr softly, your wide “fuck me” eyes looking into his as he strokes himself through his shorts. “I miss the fun we had before, and I know you do to.”

You roll over on your tummy, Thighs giving your ass a squeeze as he stands up and helps you turn over. He holds the phone the entire time, only getting a glimpse of his hand or leg when he stands up to point it at you landscape style. You turn your head and give another smile, this one far more devious than before. “By now you’ve probably opened the gift I sent you. If you want to fuck when we get home, this is what I want you to do. First, open the Ziploc bag.” Joel fell off the bed and scrambled for the bag, his cock bobbing up and down as he flopped back on the bed with the other box contents.

“Do they look familiar?” you wink. “They should, if not look at your pictures again.” Panties. They were your panties. Still slightly warm and damp when he pulls them out of the bag. “BUT-” you loudly say and Joel is brought back to reality. Panties halfway from the bag to his nose. “That’s your reward at the end. First, get out the pool noodle.” Joel inspects it. It’s a foam pool noodle about 10 inches long, the kind with the hole in the middle that you can find at any dollar store or water park. Joel looks to the pool noodle hole to the lube. Oh no, he thinks. No no no no no n-”

“Ohh fuck yes,” you whimper. Thighs is groping your ass and trying to also keep your face in view. “That feels good. I think you know what I want you to do. I want you to show me how hard you want to fuck me. How much you want to abuse this pussy with your dirty old man cock. Get that cock nice and ready for me. Please, Joel? Look how much I need it.” Your fingers lazily spread your slick folds open, dragging your middle finger up and down your seam. Eyes still on the camera, still on Joel who is lathering himself with lube, pants and underwear on the floor. You drag your finger out and hold out to Thighs, showing Joel how wet you are and how fast Thighs tongue attacks your finger. You pull it away and curve it in a “come hither direction”, eyes straight forward so it looks like your talking directly to him.

“Please,” your finger goes back to your center and you groan. “Fuck yourself like a good boy so we can fuck when we get home.

You got it baby, Joel says aloud. He shakes his head and grabs the noodle. Still doesn’t make this any less fucking weird, he thinks, but worth it. Worth it for her.

The rest of the video is you fucking yourself with your fingers, and when that’s not enough you’re handed a hairbrush offscreen. You’ve never done something so dirty. You feel possessed as orgasm after orgasm takes you over and you can’t even talk dirty. Your face has little beads of sweat clinging to it, your face screwed up in ecstacy as you feel the next orgasm hit, hairbrush fucking you while Thighs Out rolls your nipple in his hand, knowing it’ll make you come undone.

“J-joel,” you groan. “You feeling good, Joel? Like watching me like this? I’m a fucking mess. I just know that cock of yours is ready for me. Are you getting ready for my slutty pussy, Joel?”

Joel gripped his phone with one hand and nodded even though you couldn’t see him. He squeezed more lube onto himself. He sighed and slowly brought the pool noodle down on his cock. The cheap foam made his dick itch a little but he powered through. His hips buck up and fuck the noodle, matching the rhythm of you fucking yourself with the hairbrush. Joel felt close to cumming, but still so far away from you. He wondered what you were doing now since the video wasn’t live. He paused it on your face, eyes closed and mouth open. You deserve more than just an embarrassing jerk off session in room alone. The fact was he was extremely horny and even lonlier. A dangerous combination. Joel swipes out of the homemade video and opens Snapchat. He exhales through his nose and grips the pool noodle.

“Not even half way done with the video and you’ve already got me close” he murmers, his phone pointing down at pool noodle fucking his cock. “Like making me look like a fool? Like a desperate old man fucking a pool noodle all by himself?” He ends the video when he hears his voice start to break. But the trooper he is Joel keeps fucking the pool noodle and sending you snap after snap of the sordid scene. He alters from fucking the noodle to fucking his own hand. Precum drips down his thick fingers. He flips the camera around and his fingers slide in his mouth, groaning your name as he pushes the fingers further in and out. He moans LOUD and keeps stuffing his fingers in his mouth while jerking off. The pool noodle is moving faster, and Joel can’t hold it in anymore. He pumps his cock with the cheap foam toy one last time, and you see, while watching the snaps with Thighs Out, the tip of his dick peeking out the top and rope after rope shoots out. “I-I love you baby,” Joel gasps as he climaxes. “I’ll do anything you want.”

You thought that would be it, and he’d try to come crawling back to your room that night. But Joel stays in the room all night sending you dozens of snaps of either his cock fucking his hand “still just wishing it was your soft skin on me” or his face while jerking off. He orgasms at least four more times that night based on the snaps you recieve. After the latest video just of Joel chanting your name and humping the bed, his dry spend mixing with the warm, fresh load that cake the sheets, you shake your head.

“We should have gotten him more water.” you say to Thighs after your stepdad’s last climax.

“Should have gotten him another pool noodle,” Thighs grins. The man was such a menace.

“Seriously! Here’s another one!” you yell, gesturing for Thighs to look. His gold chain glints in your eye when he leans down over you to watch your phone.

“Damn,” Thighs mutters to himself. Baby please let me worship your tits (cherry emoji)!! The video caption says while Joel moans your name. “He can really cum. Knows how to work the camera too”

“Liking what you see?” you jokingly purr, rubbing his bare chest as your own arousal builds up.

“No, no, it’s just…wow. It’s just so much cum, especially for his age. It’s really not a bad skill to have.”

You burst out laughing. “For who?! A horny firefighter??”

Thighs smiles, “No… a different profession. Or for some more of a hobby.”

You raise your eyebrow and stare. “What the hell are you saying?”

Thighs scribbles a woman’s name and a phone number on a napkin. “When you go back to your room tonight, or tomorrow morning,” Thighs gives you a wink. “Make sure you give this to him. Tell him to..just go with it. I could make him some good money.”

“Are you going to tell me what the hell this is?” you ask.

“It’s just an old friend. She helped me out when I needed some fun, easy work.” Thighs grins.

When you’re back in the room packing the next morning, (hell yeah you spent the night with Thighs), you do a quick google search of the number and name. A website called “Dire Desires” is at the bottom of the screen, with a matching name and number under contact information. It’s listed as an online business, and when you click on the link a wave of tits and larger than life dicks take over your phone screen. “Solo, happy ending, maintenance man fantasy, Stockholm Syndrome Sluts…” all these and more titles fill the screen and your stomach drops.

This is an amateur porn company. And Thighs Out is a fucking genius.

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Toxic: 👏👏 Bravo, awesome conclusion. HELL YEAH we spent the night with Thighs!!!! At the end I almost thought Thighs was recruiting him to the brothel lmao. I think stepdad would be an excellent candidate for solo male porn. And I like their porn themes too. (shout-out to maintenance man by @gracieispunk and my Stockholm readers, raider and vampire). Love what you did with all the cum. Thighs is right, SDJ knows how to work the camera too.

Sorry for stepdad's latest fic making you feel bad for torturing him lol but he was desperate to get his audience favorability ratings up and he's happy someone feels bad for him 😅

Ty for asking about the kinks I kept thinking but was blanking 😫 this was great!

P.s. I just remembered about the Easter egg, is gilf-sub some type of maintenance man 🤯

[mattscoquette]

“ 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞/𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 , 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝜗𝜚 “

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: popular!mean!matt x quiet!introverted!fem!oc

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a story in which a quiet introverted girl attempts to befriend her popular neighbor

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, angst, crying

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.0k

introduction 1 2 3 4 5

𝐚/𝐧: this chapter is kinda rough LOL but hopefully they resolve it because next part is the FINAL CHAPTERRRR. i love this series so much i had this trope written for five years but never fully executed it and now it's almost done :,( but fr i loved writing this sm and i hope to do another series at some point! when this is over i plan to just do one shots for a bit before another multiple part story so lmk what y'all want! i hope u guys enjoyyy

xoxo ₊˚⊹ ୨ৎ

⋆。˚ ౨ৎ

addilyn richardson,

spent the next few days avoiding matt outside of their work sessions at absolutely every cost. she still went to his house, but it was as if they were back at square one again, and she was barely talking to him. she'd worked herself up so much after admitting she actually did like matt, she couldn't even look at him anymore without turning bright pink. her and matt were just about done with the actual marble run, only needing to add some final touch ups. today they were both at addilyn’s again, working together on the writing part of the project. she had probably spoken at most ten sentences to him since they got there, and even matt had noticed she’d been acting odd the last couple of days. he thought they made it to better terms, acting nice with one another, joking around and maybe even flirting a little. but maybe not. maybe he was overthinking that part a little.

“are you okay adds?” matt asked, lifting his head up to look at her. she sighed, turning to look at the wall. she felt bad, she knew she’d been acting weird. she couldn’t help it though, admitting out loud she liked matt a few days ago made it more real. everything he did made her stomach flip. she couldn’t sit through their sessions without having to excuse herself to the bathroom at least five times to recollect herself. she looked over at matt, feeling her heartbeat quicken. he didn’t even have to do anything.

“yeah, sorry,” she shook her head, “i’m just a little stressed about the assignment.” it wasn’t a total lie, the project was a lot of work. but she couldn’t tell him that the way he smiled at her was making her chest tighten.

“okay, let’s take a break,” matt grinned. he moved the notebook off his lap, turning his body to face her on the bed, leaning with his arms rested behind him. she froze, eyes going wide and staring at him. he smirked back at the girl as she studied his face, looking at every little freckle and crevice. “stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?” addilyn laughed, looking down at her feet shyly.

"nothing,” matt replied cooly, almost flirty, addilyn thought, running his hands that were decorated with various silver rings through his hair. he ducked his head down to get addilyn to look at him. “tell me something about you that i don’t know.”

she tilted her head to the side, her confused gaze meeting matt’s again. he was wearing grey sweatpants and a crewneck, similar to what he wore everyday, but it was still making addilyn shift around as she looked at him. "i don't know," she giggled, “um, i traveled to europe last summer.”

“what else?” matt pried slightly, leaning closer to the girl who sat next to him. his arm that was behind him began to ever so slightly moved behind addilyn as he got nearer. he smelled of cologne and clean laundry. the way he was close to her, the sound of his voice, it was all too much for addilyn. she felt her breathing hitch.

she thought. “i had a pet cat when i was younger.”

“tell me more,” matt grinned, “you don’t talk to me anymore.”

“i don’t know,” she replied quietly, feeling herself gravitate towards matt, “you tell me something first.”

matt looked at her, his pink lips tugging into a soft smile. he thought for a moment, before replying as quietly as she had. “my favorite color is blue.”

“that’s boring, tell me something i don't know about you.” she retorted, using his words against him. she was playing with her hands as they sat in her lap, and shifted a tiny bit closer to him, not daring to break away from his gaze. matt just stared at her, his eyes darting all over her face. his hand was fully behind her back now as he shifted all of his weight towards her. they were sitting so close to one another that if anyone walked in on them, they wouldn’t have guessed they were science partners. addilyn stared back at him hard, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones. she couldn't help but to flick her eyes quickly down at matts lips. she could feel the tension building around them.

please kiss me she thought.

“i have seventeen stitches in my head,” matt said, barely audible. he was so close to her, addilyn could feel his breath fan across her face, smelling lightly of the spearmint gum he had been chewing earlier.

“what else?” she whispered.

“i don’t know,” matt breathed, leaning as close to her as he could without actually touching her. his face was inches away from hers. his lips were parted slightly, leaning even closer to the girl as he looked down at her lips that were glossy from the chapstick she'd put on ten minutes ago. addilyn held her breath and felt her eyes fluttering closed. everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. she leaned in slowly, meeting matt in the middle as their noses brushed softly into one another. a second before their lips could touch, they broke apart at the sound of matt’s phone ringing.

the two pulled back abruptly, both of their faces bright red. matt coughed awkwardly as he picked up his phone and looked to see who was calling. “i’ll be right back.”

“yeah,” addilyn nodded, looking at her feet again. she could hear her heart beating loudly in her chest, she thought matt would be able to hear her from the hallway. she blinked rapidly, trying to regain herself. she couldn’t believe she almost just kissed matt. what would have happened if the phone didn’t ring? would he have actually kissed her, or would he have pulled away at the last second? would she even been good at it? she’d never kissed a boy in her life, and here she was with a boy she liked in her room. she sighed, picking up her phone to look at the time. it was barely even dinner time, and they still had work they needed to get done. she just hoped it wouldn’t be awkward when matt came back in.

as if on cue, her bedroom door swung open, matt coming in and packing up his book bag swiftly. “sorry addy, i have to go.” he told the girl, swinging the bag over his shoulder.

she blinked up at him, looking confused. “okay.”

“i’m sorry,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets, “chris called saying he needs me to pick him up from nate’s house.”

addilyn couldn’t help but notice the heavy feeling of disappointment rise in her chest. “y-yeah, i understand, you’re good.” her mind began to wander off, and thought about if he had stayed longer, if he would try and kiss her again.

“i’ll, uh, i’ll see you tomorrow in science, yeah?” matt mumbled, shifting his weight back in forth.

“yeah, okay.” she nodded and stood up from the bed to match matt’s height, suddenly feeling small. she wasn’t sure what to do, she felt he was leaving so awkward and abruptly. should she hug him? kiss his cheek? i mean, he was just about to kiss her, so would that be weird? she was so new to all of this. she opened her mouth to speak, then closing it. she looked up at matt, offering a small smile, praying she could hide her disappoint well.

matt smiled softly at her, his eyes moving across her face, trying hard to remember how she looked in this moment. he spoke quietly. “bye adds.”

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

the next day addilyn didn’t speak to matt once. she ignored his waves to her in science this afternoon, and even texted him after class saying she couldn’t work tonight because she didn’t feel well. a lie. at this point, she didn’t even care about the stupid assignment anymore. they had most of it done, anyway, so she wasn’t too worried. they both worked hard and would get at the very least an a-. and besides, matt needed this grade more than she did. an a- for her would suck, but she'd rather take that than have to see matt again tonight. she convinced herself in 12 hours she had totally made an embarrassment of herself. he was her science partner for crying out loud. she was best friends with his brothers, and she wasn't even his type. why did she think he'd want her? she just thought he was feeling sympathetic and went to kiss her out of pity. she'd rather take a semi bad grade than deal with all of that. addilyn was currently in lunch, reading a book with her earbuds in, trying to distract herself from thinking of matt. she looked up at the feeling of one of her earbuds being pulled out of her right ear. chris smiled down at her, plopping his stuff down next to her.

“hi addy,” he said to her, sitting, “what are you doing later tonight?”

she sighed, closing her book. she didn’t exactly tell chris about her feelings for matt, but he picked up on it when they were all at mcdonald’s the other night, when addilyn and nick kept sharing secret smiles whenever matt did or said something.

chris and matt were sat in the front seat, addilyn and nick paired in the back. they were all sat in the parking lot, indulging themselves in the cheap mcflurrys that chris bought for everyone.

“my treat,” he had said, “i got a b on my book report.” they all laughed, piling themselves into matt’s mini van as he drove them up the road to get food. nick was yelling about encounter he had with a teacher earlier that day.

“he wouldn’t let me go pee!” he exclaimed, “so i got up, walked out, and went to the bathroom.”

the other three laughed as nick told his story, matt looking to addilyn every single time he laughed. this happened the whole night. whether they looked at each other while they laughed at something the others said, or shared small glances that went unnoticed by the other two in the car.

at one point, nick did notice this, and nudged addilyn after matt looked away from her. chris was telling a story, and matt was staring at addilyn the entire time. chris took note, putting the pieces together slowly the whole night.

“nothing.” she told the boy, looking over at him.

he furrowed his eyebrows, looking confused. “you’re not working with matt tonight?”

she shook her head no. “i’m not feeling too great.”

chris frowned at her, “really?” she nodded. “well, i was thinking maybe if you’re up to it later, you can come with us go get ice cream. it's half off tonight for the wrestling team's charity, matt and nick wanted you to come too.” there was that feeling of pity again. he only wanted her there because he felt bad she had nothing better to be doing on a friday night.

addilyn looked away from chris, her eyes scanning across the cafeteria. naturally, her stare fell to matt. he was sitting with some of his friends from his lacrosse team, listening them tell a story while laughing with his head thrown back. she wasn’t sure how he managed to effortlessly look that good. pity, addy, he feels bad for you, stop thinking he's cute. matt sat back up, instantly locking eyes with addilyn across the room. she turned her direction back to chris. “i’m not sure, i’ll text you later and let you know.”

he nodded, letting her go back to her book. before she could fully submerge herself into it, the bell rang, dismissing them to the next class. addilyn collected her belongings, seeing matt walk right past her. he turned back around, looking over his shoulder to her and smiling. she felt her eyes begin to well with tears as she walked in the opposite direction. she didn’t even know why she was upset.

she darted into the closest bathroom, locking herself in the last stall, before she began to let tears fall. she covered her mouth with her sweatshirt sleeve, trying to silence her sobs. she cried as she thought about matt, not even knowing where to begin with him. she felt like she ruined everything they had going for them. regardless if she liked him or not, she simply enjoyed his company. she loved the way he would actually listen to her when she talked, not just hear her. the way he’d rub his his eyes when he laughed really hard. she just loved to be around him. she loved the way he would make her chest feel fuzzy when he made eye contact with her. she loved the way he would scrunch his nose up when he was confused about something. she cried, thinking deep down in her heart after this project was over matt would forget all about her and move on to the next girl. what would he even see in her? the more and more addilyn picked herself apart, the more and more she was convinced matt simply pitied her. she was nothing like the girls he seemed to have interest in. she never had real feelings for a boy before, it was all so confusing.

the bell rang, signifying the start of the final period of the day. art. addilyn couldn’t go into the room with nick and act like she wasn’t just sobbing over his brother. she continued to cry over matt, deciding to skip her last class.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

matthew sturniolo,

spent the entire day wishing addilyn would stop acting so weird around him, and hoping they could go back to normal, or whatever normal even was for them. he'd never had an issue with reading someone's interest for him, but he truly could not understand where he stood with addilyn. but he was afraid he fucked everything up by trying to kiss her last night. why would she even like him back? he treated her like shit almost the entire time they worked together. he thought she deserved someone who wouldn't be so confused with himself and careless with her emotions. today in science, she totally walked past him as he smiled and said hi to her. she texted him after class saying she wasn’t coming over to work because she felt sick. matt knew she was lying, but let her have her space. if being closed off is what would get her to come around, he decided it was better to just swallow his sadness and deal with it.

it was the end of the day, and he was making his way out to his car to meet up with his brothers. his head was down looking at something on his phone, not realizing he was about to walk into something, or someone. he collided with the girl, knocking her to the ground as his phone fell from his hand. he looked down to find addilyn on the floor in front of him.

“shit, addy, are you okay?” he asked, reaching his hand out to her, effortlessly helping her up off the ground. she nodded softly, retreating her hand from matt's quickly. she immediately turned to start walking the other way when matt grabbed her arm to stop her.

“hey,” he said softly, turning her to look at him. he let his ego get the best of him, thinking addilyn would want to talk, but he couldn't stand the awkward tension between them, he just wanted to talk to her. his heart sunk when she met his eyes. she looked like she’d been crying for days, her eyes all red and puffy. her lips were parted slightly as she drew a shaky breath. “adds are you alright?” the boy asked worridly.

she turned on her heel, walking in the opposite direction from matt, tears threatening to spill once more. she wouldn’t dare to cry in front of him. matt stood there, watching the curly haired girl walk away. he didn’t have to ask her to know that he was the reason she was crying. there's your ego again, he told himself, not everything is about you and your girl problems. but to matt, addilyn was more than just typical girl problems. feeling defeated, he walked out to the car to find nick and chris standing there already. he climbed into the van, not saying a word as he began to drive.

he didn’t talk much on the drive home, only chiming in once or twice when his brothers would ask for his input on something. as they arrived home, matt immediately went upstairs into his room, flopping down onto his bed. he had no energy to do anything, he felt horrible for being the reason addilyn was upset and distant with him. he wasn’t even sure what he could to do to fix it, she was avoiding him. he opened his phone, clicking her contact. he stared at the blank message screen in front of him, the blue cursor blinking at him mockingly as he thought about what to type.

what would he even say to her? sorry for trying to kiss you yesterday, i’ve been dreaming about what your lips would feel like on mine for the past week. hope we can still be cool. he let out a breath and turned off his phone, letting it fall to his chest. he stared up at the ceiling, racking his brain on how to make things better again. he figured the best thing to do was just let her be alone for now, and maybe try texting her over the weekend. the project was due in only three days, she had to talk to him at school at some point.

he sighed, turning to lay on his side, closing his eyes. he slept for a couple hours before his mom woke him for dinner. like he had done every time he's slept for the past week, he dreamt of addilyn.

Ⓒ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | taglist

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