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#okay now this is the last time I’m saying this
norris55s · 1 day
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just friends - pato o'ward
sister’s best friend!reader x pato o’ward social media au
a/n: it’s a sister’s best friend to best friends to lovers brain rot. i also needed something to soothe my heart after that last lap on the indy500. i also love pato with all my heart. fc is olivia rodrigo!
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y/ninstagram
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liked by patriciooward, elbaoward and 21,546 others
y/ninstagram: the bff + the princess and the prince at their wedding + the bitch ass brother
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elbaoward: love you soooo much 🤍🤍🤍
y/ninstagram: i love u more 4eva, don’t care if ur married ur my wifey above all🤍
elbaoward: wifeys 4eva
patriciooward: I’m the cool brother
y/ninstagram: uncool*
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patriciooward
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liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 126,746 others
patriciooward: Woke up with a new brother today. Congratulations to the love birds. 🤍 Also pictured y/ninstagram waking up with a hangover. ☕️
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y/ninstagram: delete
patriciooward: But you look like a ray of sunshine
elbaoward: thank you always baby brother🤍 you look like you had a goood time lol
user46: ayo who is y/n i’m new here
user67: okay I love y/n lore, she is an influencer/model type of deal and she is pato’s sister’s bestie since forever ago and she and pato get along really well, they’re seen together a lot when elba attends races with her. it’s an ongoing joke in the fandom that pato has the biggest crush on her, which has never been denied nor confirmed lol but they’ve never posted each other on their feeds before so the rumors are rumoring
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patriciooward
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liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 108,924 others
patriciooward: Pre-Season recharging with some sea salt. Also pictured y/ninstagram on the phone with God. 🌊🍌
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y/ninstagram: posting bad pictures of me is becoming a thing i see
patriciooward: Technically, you started it
user74: now what is going on why are they vacationing together
user82: y/n said on her tiktok live that they’re with a bunch of other friends so there’s that
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patriciooward
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liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 183,746 others
patriciooward: Good season start 😊 Also pictured y/ninstagram side eying me when I asked if I could try her ramen 🍜
view all 1,845 comments
y/ninstagram: you don’t just ask a girl to have her ramen, even if you got a podium
user13: anyone else noticing how they’re becoming super close after elba’s wedding
user82: I think everyone is noticing alright… elba isn’t even there
user26: they’re so dating
user98: i thought the same thing but literally every interview today was dedicated to pato saying they’re just friends
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y/ninstagram
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liked by patriciooward, elbaoward and 20,724 others
y/ninstagram: it’s rawe ceek + pato’s lil hat
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elbaoward: why are you replacing me with another o’ward?
patriciooward: Sorry, she’s my best friend now. You have a whole ass husband
y/ninstagram: u could never be replaced bby girl 😽😽😽
patriciooward: Wow
user82: are we seeing this fam
user23: maybe the best friend gate is all part of pato’s plan to get the girl
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patriciooward
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liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 127,924 others
patriciooward: Did the best we could on that race considering the circumstances 🤪 Also pictured y/ninstagram’s sushi eyes 🍱
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y/ninstagram: maybe u didnt win on track but you won best sushi recommendation
user83: they’re so sus but they also don’t even touch when they’re in public… perhaps they are just best friends
user53: who needs touching when pato looks at her like she put the stars up in the sky
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patriciooward
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liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 192,246 others
patriciooward: F1 testing done right 🥹 Also pictured y/ninstagram’s face when I got in the car 🧡
view all 2,725 comments
user24: are we still pretending we believe the best friends bullshit
y/ninstagram: this is so crazy to me because i’m honestly here for a shot with lando norris
landonorris: message received 🫡
patriciooward: Mate 😂
user27: that’s the most threatening laugh emoji i have ever seen
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y/ninstagram
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liked by patriciooward, elbaoward and 25,935 others
y/ninstagram: it’s indy 500 time + elba being pretty + pato eating something he definitely shouldn’t be eating
view all 1,983 comments
elbaoward: the support system is in need of support
y/ninstagram: we are doing great! (we are crying)
user45: how are we feeling watching the race personally I want to throw up
y/ninstagram: im fine! (i have blacked out multiple times)
user36: oh man… im so glad she’s there after that final lap heartbreak
user26: please give pato our love ❤️ he gave it all
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patriciooward
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liked by y/ninstagram, elbaoward and 293,927 others
patriciooward: I woke up with a big smile on my face today, feeling very loved by all of you. Wouldn’t change a thing about my journey so far, I know it will be so special the day my name is written among the stars and I get to experience the magic everyone talks about. Excited for the rest of the season, wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else arrowmclaren 🧡 #indy500
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y/ninstagram: you inspire me every single day. your time will come and it’ll be epic. 🧡
elbaoward: you are a force of nature and the sun ☀️
user83: im sorry i really want to comment about the race and compliment pato but are we just going to ignore the last picture of him and y/n holding hands
user53: are we going to ignore their hug on national tv i really felt like i was interrupting
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y/ninstagram
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liked by patriciooward, elbaoward and 35,924 others
y/ninstagram: lover boy + lover boy + lover boy. you’re amazing. 🧡
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patriciooward: 🧡
elbaoward: been a long time coming 🥰
landonorris: 😔
landonorris: jk ive been in on pato’s crush all along
y/ninstagram: 💀
user94: WAR IS OVER
user52: not the hard launch
user85: at least tell us how it happened after friend zoning each other for months
y/nusername: comfort after a heartbreak go crazy
patriciooward: You’re a natural romantic
509 notes · View notes
tayytayy12 · 2 days
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American Girl | OP81 x Reader
Summary - Every F1 fan becomes shocked when Oscar, someone who they thought was very much single, comes out to be in a relationship with none other than Logan Sargeants little sister.
Warnings - Swearing
Type - SMAU
FaceClaim - Sabrina carpenter
Notes - I’m running out of ideas what to write pls send requests 😭
(Act like Logan can actually achieve a podium okay. I live in delusion.)
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OP81.fanaccount
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Liked by - User1, and 60,004 others
OP81.fanaccount - The biggest unsolved mystery ever is how this man is STILL single. Like I know my boys young but like, how? He’s so polite cat coded.
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User1 - I wonder this everyday
User2 - Have you ever thought that he maybe just doesn’t want a relationship..?
User3 - Real like it’s so obvious he doesn’t and that he wants to focus on racing
User4 - Did he tell you that?
User5 - He’s is a polite cat no one can convince me otherwise
User6 - I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE !!!
User7 - Wasn’t their pics of him and some blonde girl at a restaurant in Miami last year?
User8 - People thought it was him but the photos were way too blurry to tell, they were just making assumptions
Y/n_sargeant
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Liked by - LoganSargeant, LandoNorris and 104,764 others
Tagged | LoganSargeant
Y/n_sargeant - Back in the paddock, time to support the big brother in our hometown 🫡
(Also how cute were Logan and I we got along great once upon a time. and Oscar and Lo. Little babies)
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User9 - OMFG MOTHERS BACK
User10 - Y/n’s always providing the best bad photos of Logan
User11 - “thank you y/n” we all say in unison
LoganSargeant - In that photo you’re clearly trying to choke me..? Idk who told you that we got along but they lied to you. You smell like shit (THANKS FOR COMING 🫡)
Y/n_ saregant - You caught me, I’m disappointed the attempt didn’t work. (ILL ALWAYS SHOW FOR U YOU DUMB WHORE)
OscarPiastri - THAT photo? Really?
Y/n_sargeant - Aw I think it’s amazing
User12 - OMF THE DUOS COMING BACK
User13 - BABY OSCAR AND LOGAN OMFG 😭😭
User14 - Praying Logan gets his first points 🫡
Y/n_sargeant - girl same I didn’t leave my bed for nothing
User15 - gosh she’s so real
Y/n_sargeant
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Liked by - OscarPiastri, LoganSargeant and 200,175 others
Tagged | LoganSargeant, OscarPiastri
Y/n_sargeant - SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW WHAT THE FUCK OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG,
Lo P3 and Osc P2, officially the best day ever, my god I’m still crying I’ve never been so proud of people ever ever ever. No one deserves this like the two of you do, I love you both oh my god.
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User16 - The race finished like a minute ago miss girl is quick
User17 - LOGAN FIRST PODIUM AND BE DEDICATED IT TO Y/N AND THEIR MOM STFU
User18 - I love how she’s being happy for them both
User19 - Y/noscar is real
User20 - OMFG SOMINE TELL ME THEY SAW OSCAR JUMP OUT HIS CAR AND KISS Y/N AFTER LOGAN HUGGED HER
User21 - WHY IS NO ONE TALKING SBOUT IT
User22 - They punkd us
User23 - All this time we thought there as chronically single
User24 - WHY WOUKD YHEY KEEP THIS A SECRET
OscarPiastri & Y/n_sargeant
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Liked by - LoganSargeant, and 2,962,653 others
Caption - It wasn’t a secret, you just never asked. It’s our three year anniversary on Saturday btw, we except gifts (joking)(partly)
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User25 - THREE FUCKING YEARS?!??!?!!!
User26 - This is the new it couple
User27 - They seem so in love omg
LoganSargeant - They are it’s disgusting
Y/n_sargeant - You love us
OscarPiastri - We look great
Y/n_sargeant - we always do
841 notes · View notes
sukirichi · 2 days
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𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮
— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?
content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.
dedicated to @kyriaan
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The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.
“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”
You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.
You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.
It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.
Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.
You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.
For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.
Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.
“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”
Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.
A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.
Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”
“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”
“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”
“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”
“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”
“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”
As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”
“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”
“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”
Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”
“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”
Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”
“I didn’t have a choice!”
“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”
“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”
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The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.
You couldn’t think clear around him.
You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.
Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.
“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”
“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa.  “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”
“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”
“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.
Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.
Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.
Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.
But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.
You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.
Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”
Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.
“Turn around.”
Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”
Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.
Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.
Your mouth hung open.
Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.
“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”
“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”
“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”
You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.
Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.
“Rin, I...”
He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.
You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.
“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”
You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.
Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.
“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”
You couldn’t swallow down your words.
Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.
Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.
From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.
You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.
“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”
Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”
A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”
“Let them.”
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Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.
Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?
Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.
For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.
“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.
Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”
Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”
That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.
He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.
His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.
The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.
None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”
“You’re seriously asking me that?”
“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”
“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”
Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”
“I don’t want to lie to them!”
“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”
Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.
“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”
Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.
“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”
“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”
Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”
You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”
“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”
Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.
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Text
One of Us
Part Two
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Part one Synopsis: when you were saved from a curse a few years ago, you spent a night with your hero and ended up having your baby son, Yasu. You knew the day would come, but when your son fought a curse that had almost killed you all by himself, you kind of had to face the consequences of your prolonged silnce. One of the consequences happened to be Satoru 'I Had No Clue I Had A Son' Gojo. Tags: Satoru Gojo x f!reader, reader is a mom of Gojo's son, Yasu is a little meanie sometimes, Yasu being mama's boy all the way, still possible angst, mentions of violence, foul language here and there. Notes: guys is it obvious I started writing this because I created Yasu in my head and decided to give him a tumblr community as moms? because I did 🫵🏻😔 also this part has Yasu’s pov in it but it’s just 60% ‘I love my mama’ and 40% yapping ‘cause he takes a lot from the father he doesn’t even know yet
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It’s not that he didn’t like unfamiliar places, no, he enjoyed going on little adventures, visiting cities and even countries a couple of times — he loved that one time you took him to Disneyland on his fifth birthday so much he still had all these Elsa (“we look alike”) and Mulan (“she’s a badass like you, ma”; “Yasu!”) merch all over his room.
It’s just this time it was all new, and you were not here with him.
He tapped his shoes in the air as he was sitting on top of the neatly made hospital bed; he didn’t really need any check-ups. Besides the first one they gave him when he was just spotted, covered in dirt, blood and sweat.
…okay, well, maybe he needed help with a little bruise covered with, uh, eyes, but it went away by itself really, and he wanted to finally see his mom, not spend time with doctors and weird teens hanging around like he was some ugly thing himself. He just killed one, wasn’t it enough proof he didn’t need any more grownups’ assistance?
A knock on the door distracted him from rush of rather angry kid’s thoughts. He looked up and saw a young woman slowly coming inside, giving him some time and space to brace himself, but no real option to reject her company. She looked tired, strict and friendly at the same time, and the boy frowned, straightening up. He was afraid of no strict doctor ladies.
“How are you feeling, [Last Name]?” she put a notebook on the light-grey nightstand along with some clipboard. The papers on it seemed important, but adults made all the papers seem important. It could be a lie today, but the woman didn’t look like she would carry around anything useless.
“I’m fine, so can I finally go to my mom?” oh, he was definitely not going to hide his frustration. He was not going to hide his stare either. “If I’m alright and you’re a doctor, shouldn’t you be with my mom? She needs help while you just waste your precious ‘doctor time’ here when I’m obviously good on my own.”
“Says the boy calling for his mom as soon as someone walks in,” since he was trying to act like an adult, neither the woman was going to baby him. She didn’t smirk, but her dark brown eyes certainly did.
He frowned and averted his gaze, now blankly staring at his shoes, still tapping them with the melody only he was familiar with.
She sighed condescendingly and walked towards the bed, surprising him with how naturally she squatted right in front, now looking up.
“My name is Shoko Ieiri,” her appearance was making her look tough, but she grabbed the end of his shoe with such gentleness, such unexpected softness and care — it made him ease his frown. “You can call me Shoko.”
“Why would I do that?” he immediately argued. Sparks of humorous laughter in her eyes became clearer as she noticed he couldn’t help it. His words preceded his thoughts, powered by the way he felt was right. “You’re like five times my age.”
“Oh, gimme a break, boy. I’m not that old,” she shook her head, huffing, and stood up, turning back to the nightstand with all her papers on it.
He looked at her for a moment, considering.
“Yasu,” he almost whispered, but as she turned around, he straightened his shoulders yet again, repeating it louder even though he didn’t need to. “My name is Yasu [Last Name]. And you can call me Yasu, too.”
“Okay, Yasu,” she finally smiled with her lips, not only eyes this time, taking clipboard in one hand and a neat pen in the other. “Glad to make your acquaintance.”
He looked at her carefully, fully taking in her appearance. She felt like a few couple of eyes were watching her at the same time.
Very familiar feeling.
“Mm,” he finally shrugged. “Me too, I guess. And you don’t look like a paediatrician,” he struggled a bit with the big word, but they both pretended it didn’t happen.
“That’s because I’m not one,” Shoko stated simply. “I’m here with you not because you’re a kid, Yasu. I’m quite a special doctor.”
“How modest,” he smirked.
Yeah, Shoko thought, as expected. Never easy with these ones.
“So, Yasu, have you ever seen curses before?” as much as she weirdly enjoyed this kid’s company, she'd got work to be done, so she went straight for it.
“Curses?” He raised an eyebrow, frowning again. He was doing it a lot for his age. “What’s that?” She almost went to write it down on the paper, but eventually he wasn’t done talking. “I only see the ugly things, they are around all the time. They don’t ever touch me or my mom. Well, they didn’t, yesterday was different. It was the ugliest one so far.”
“The ugly things,” Shoko said slowly, “do you see them all the time?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” Yasu shrugged like it wasn’t really a big deal. It was though, and since you were not there, he let it slide off his tongue. “Recently they… I was noticing them all over the world, but they started hanging out closer to our house a lot.”
“There were more of them near your home?” Shoko subtly wrote something down.
“Don’t tell mama,” he suddenly blurted out, cautious of Shoko all over again. “She doesn’t need to know.”
“Why? Feeling guilty?” she smirked with her eyes again, and Yasu couldn’t help but notice how good she was expressing her thoughts with just her eyes. Cool.
“Don’t want her to worry. She already worries a lot because of me,” before Shoko even had a chance to ask him to elaborate, he did it himself. “I also scare off her dates.”
Shoko tried really hard not to chuckle loudly. Luckily, she succeeded. “Oh? You scare off other men? Geez, maybe I need a son after all.”
Yasu didn’t get the implied joke, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “Not on purpose. Well, most of the times— anyways, they just often think I’m spooky.”
For some reason, this time Shoko didn’t ask him to specify. Yasu watched her writing quietly, now growing more curious about her. She’s cool, he thought. Not as cool as mama, though.
“Tell me about your family, Yasu. Anything you’d like to share,” she finally spoke again, looking up and tapping her pen on the clipboard.
And she didn’t need to ask twice for this one.
“Oh, my mom is the best. She’s my closest friend, and she’s lovely, and funny, and she’s the prettiest, and I love when I make her smile — and she smiles to me a lot,” it sounded almost like he was bragging. He probably was. “She works a lot, partly because I like sweets and she can never say ‘no’ to me, but once I’m old enough I’ll be the one making all the money for her. Oh, don’t tell her I know she can’t say ‘no’. Although she’s very smart and already knows that, I think? Anyways— when she doesn’t work, because her boss is actually a nice man and gives her days off from time to time, she spends her time with me and we do something fun. Or homework, but that’s not as fun. Not the hardest part though, school is the easy stuff.”
Shoko did not try to stop him, nor did she listen very attentively — she was grasping everything between the lines, in the tones and his big blue eyes. Yes, a spitting image, but his hair are fluffier, and his cheeks are pinker; maybe because he’s yet to be tired. Maybe because she saw you and knew exactly where it all came from.
“Mm,” she nodded. “And your dad?”
“I don’t have one,” he quickly responded. Then added as momentarily. “Technically I do, of course, I kinda know how it works,” oh, he’s definitely proud of how smart he was. “But he’s not around, it’s just my mom and me. I don’t hate him ‘cause my mom told me he doesn’t know and he’s very busy, but my mom is busy too and she knows, right? Also, how can you not know? Don’t you need to love each other to have a kid?”
“Not necessarily,” Shoko hummed, suddenly deep in thought.
“If he doesn’t love my mom, he’s stupid,” Yasu concluded. “Knew I got my smarts all from my mama.”
“Now that’s a possibility.”
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He gave you time. You needed a few moments before you could finally sit up, a few more to carefully drink a glass he poured for you — not really in consideration, it would be just odd for him to watch you silently while you struggled to hold yourself together, let alone pick up a whole jug of water.
You felt better now and was almost ready to talk, as much as someone could be ready considering the circumstances. But your mouth was no longer dry, your head stopped spinning (if you stayed still, but hey, it was something) and you didn’t want to puke each time you tried to blink. You still felt like the boiling water tank was aptly thrown in your direction. The arm that was chewed on by the curse was still burning, although not as much, and covered in bandages.
“So, what’s your name again?” you both said in unison.
The room went silent for a really long moment, where you both just stared at each other. As much as a blindfolded person could stare back, but the feeling of being watched never left you in his presence. You were sure he could see you better than you could see him, somehow.
Then you chuckled, shaking your head, and he put his hands to his chest in pretend offence. “You cannot be for real right now,” he gasped, “I just mentioned my last name!”
“Bold of you to assume I was listening,” you chuckled again, making yourself comfortable in half-sitting position. The pillow was nice. “I was kind of trying not to show the world the void of my outwardly turned stomach.”
“It hurts my heart when I encounter the need to introduce myself,” he sighed dramatically, then finally plopped on the chair next to your bed.
“Heart? Is that what sorcerers call their ego nowadays?” you curiously followed his chaotic movements. Now that you were feeling better, you were more open to whatever conversation you two could have. “I’m [Name] [Last Name]. Sorry I don’t remember yours, it was a long time ago.”
“It was,” he nodded, obviously not offended anymore, if he ever was. “Gojo Satoru, the strongest, at your service.”
“No more service from you, sir,” you shook your head. “That’s enough children for the time being.”
It was supposed to be a joke, but it inevitably drew both of you closer to the main topic of the upcoming conversation. Gojo did find your joke funny, but the smile stuck on his face and soon enough became almost unnerving. You could feel his thoughts spinning, curling and link like a tapestry. And this tapestry had your son’s face on it bright and clear. You played with tips of sticking out bandages on your wounded arm, not wanting to look in his eyes, even though they were thoroughly covered.
“If you think I will try and make you feel guilty for anything, then stop. You do it to yourself just fine, no help needed,” he started, and your foggy memories of your past encounter revealed you a piece of memory. Yes, it was always a thing — him going from goofy to insanely serious in the matter of seconds. “I’m in no place to do so, I just found out I’m an absent father. Oh, Megumi would find it so funny,” you didn’t know who the hell Megumi was, but somehow you were certain he would not in fact find it funny. “But were you thinking it was safer to hide him from who he obviously is than to give him a chance to learn how to be stronger? He’s got such a potential.”
You sighed, shaking your head.
“You see Yasu as a subject of your interest, a potentially strong… sorcerer,” you wrinkled your nose, hating to call Yasu that. “But he is my son. I wanted him to have a life, not to live trying to trade it for as much other lives as he possibly can.”
“And that’s why he almost traded it for just yours,” Gojo’s words were like a shotgun. They deafened you so hard and so mercilessly, you heard loud ringing all inside and out of you. Head started pulsating with everything grieving mother could have — and you grieved even the possible thought of your son getting killed; even worse, getting killed because of what you thought was totally right.
He fell silent, giving you some time to get used to the thought he just threw at you relentlessly.
“Yes,” you said after a couple of minutes, firmly. Knowingly.
Gojo perked up, taken by surprise and, because of that, genuinely curious. You were just a non-sorcerer, he met you for the second time in his life, and for the second time you managed to be very, very interesting for him. He was intrigued by you back then — he had a memory not half as bad as he made others think he had — he was intrigued by you right now, and you didn’t know it, but it was showing all the way.
He was still here.
“Huh?” he leaned forward in his chair. “What’s that, [Last Name]?”
“You want Yasu to learn your…” you gestured vaguely, not embarrassed by not knowing what exactly you were talking about, “…ways, right? Do it. I can’t protect him anymore, so it’s finally your job now. At least as a… uh, mentor?”
“Teacher,” he corrected, suddenly proud not as a lion — as a whole pride. “How did you know I am one now?”
“Three teens are stalking us through the window behind you for about twenty minutes now, and one of them looks like he thinks the glass is one-sided,” you looked in the mentioned direction, visibly concerned by both the fact they were watching you and the thought that one of them was leaning on the glass like a detective from a cheap American comedy. If he moved away, he’d probably leave face-printed stains on the poor window separating your room and the hospital hall.
Turning around, Gojo seemed absolutely unbothered. He waved at the glass like it was everyday occurrence. The pink-haired kid either did not care he was actually spotted or instantly forgot about it, happily waving back. These are world’s renowned saviours?..
“I have one condition,” you blurted out, taking all the Gojo’s attention back to you. It was amazing how easily you did so.
“Hmm?” he tilted his head, uncannily, if they were to ask you. Maybe the blindfold did its thing, making all he did seem somewhat mad. Wonderland’s Hatter in negative colour. You remembered how it worked for him back then.
It was amusing as much as embarrassing how you’ve always had a thing for such men. Sigh.
This time you were not going to fall for it, though. You had other matters to worry about, and you now had your son. Priorities. And Gojo Satoru was never one of them, even back then. One-night stand, he gifted you with the best son you could possibly ask for and you were grateful, really. But that was it.
“I get to stay by Yasu’s side while you train him. Take me with you, wherever it is.”
“Out of the question,” he stated solidly, stating his point by leaning on the backrest.
“That is not a question,” you answered as solidly. “You do not understand.”
Mere thought of someone taking away your child made you feel a huge surge of strength, and at that moment you felt like you could take on hundreds of ugliest curses if it meant getting your son back to you. You leaned closer to Gojo, now fearlessly, almost mindlessly staring where his eyes should be.
“You can deny me, you can try and take away Yasu, you can hide him from me and make me believe it’s for the best,” you hiss, throat hurting and you not caring at all, “but I will find every and each one way back to him, and if it means I die, so be it. I'll leave my flesh, my limbs, my insides, my head, heart and soul behind just to be with him. I’ll die and become the most terrifying curse for every leaving and deadly cold thing that tries to lay a finger on my son.”
You might seem like you didn’t really understand what you were saying, but Gojo did hold his breath for just a second there. He slowly, carefully put his hand up and tugged on his blindfold. It helplessly fell on his laps.
His eyes were the brightest shade of blue you could ever meet in person, but you never averted your gaze. You’d never be scared of eyes like these, because you were looking in them and all you saw was not Gojo Satoru.
It was your precious son.
Gojo let out a silent breath. You were not aware of it, but you weren’t lying or exaggerating; he looked at you with all the eyes he had and saw this horrific potential — if you were to die, you would most definitely become a curse.
If Yasu didn’t save you yesterday, you would become a curse yourself.
“It’s a deal then,” in contrast to his thoughts, he smiled as brightly as he could. It didn’t fit the occasion, and he knew it way too well.
“Really?” you blinked, snapped from your stupor, and finally lost all the strength you gathered from your motherly rage. You sighed, relieved, and laid back on your pillow.
“Need to talk to Yaga first, though,” he chirped, putting his blindfold back on. “If he refuses, I advise you killing him first.”
“Huh?”
You didn’t get the chance to question his choice of advice, because as soon as you opened your mouth, the door to your room also shut wide open.
“Mama!” Yasu ran right past the doctor that was escorting him and Gojo who stayed at his place, silently watching you two interact.
“Hey, baby, hey, I missed you too,” you smiled and chuckled as Yasu climbed up your bed and immediately held you in his arms. “Ugh, Yasu, my love, mama may actually pass away if you are going to squeeze her too much—“
“Oh, sorry,” he backed away a little, now inspecting you like he was escorting some doctor here just a second ago, not the other way around.
You looked back at Gojo over your shoulder. He didn’t seem like he had any fatherly feelings instantly clicking inside of him, but that was okay, you thought; in his mind, he was not a father not that long ago (at least, not to this child, his personal life did not concern you in any possible way). But noticing him quietly watching Yasu fixing your unfixable hair — you were glad there was no mirror close enough to check yourself out — you were hoping Yasu’s safety would become one of his biggest concerns.
And Gojo, looking at Yasu and you, caught that for the first time in his life he looked at a non-sorcerer and thought:
“She’s strong.”
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Notes: absolutely enjoyed writing Gojo being a bit of a simp already, hehe (he thinks your spirit is strong strong). And look at Shoko and Yasu bonding over bullying Satoru, awwww (do all the sorcerers bond this way?) Also some of the next parts will include flashbacks to the day Gojo and reader met so dw it will be addressed in the story! Thank you for you feedback I was really glad you liked the first part of the fic <3
Taglist: @sad-darksoul @moonlightazriel @megumisthirdog @funtikbehemoth
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thecoochiefairy · 2 days
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𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞
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━━ 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒 .ᐟ getou.
warnings 𑄽𑄺 13.4K word count. filmed sex, suguru getou, third person omniscient pov, black woman, black girls, vaginal penetration, nasty mf sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS and i mean LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading, slapping, condomless sex, kissing, pet names, spanking, aggressive suguru, lil bit of sweet suguru, suguru makes that girl lose her mf mind on that dick, minors aren’t welcome!
song to play while listening; 𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑜𝑠 ; 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑦𝑎𝑧
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ okay y’all, i know it’s long. i’m sorry. IM SORRY! but, mocha said this is her favorite one, so i hope it might be y’all’s favorite too. ngl, i love it as well. it’s sweet, it’s nasty. it’s perfect. this isn’t the possible girlxgirlxboy fic btw, but i’ll try working on that soon! other than that, enjoy babies 🫶🏽
“IT’S BADDIE-BADDIE SHOT O’ CLOCK!”
Ears ring from the music blaring within her head, red bottom heel buzzing from the vibrations the floor carries. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy spending time with her friends, but this was the last place she wanted to be.
Clubbing wasn’t necessarily her thing. More so her friend's enjoyment, but to make up for lost time she agreed to this outing. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She held her drink close to her body, nodding her head softly to the music as her friends cheered out. She watched as the bottle girls appeared in front of them, swinging giddily to the beat of the song.
This had been her only day off in almost a month, working back to back doubles at her clinic. Her friends always complained that she needed to get out more—she just wished that they actually did something she enjoyed, rather than her being too nice to say the club was a bit overwhelming.
Drink after drink was being offered to her by every man within the building, her friends shooting her down each time she declined. She wasn’t interested in any of them, no matter what they offered. A dance, money, sex— her mind was elsewhere.
She kept a smile along her face as everyone in her section continued to yell in enjoyment, raising her drink as they cheered for her once again. The minute the song changed, she took that as a moment to duck off. She muttered to her best friend, “Gonna grab something out of my car,” she offered to go with her, and she shook her head that she’d be fine.
The cool air outside almost felt refreshing, as if she’d just come up for air out of the ocean. Birds chirp within the night. Any sound was better to her ears than the chaos that ensued inside the club, a sigh passing her lips as she dug her hand within her purse, searching for her lighter.
Instead of retrieving her lighter, she gripped her phone that conveniently buzzed as she touched it. She turned the screen towards her face, reading the unwanted message.
FROM:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
wya?
She rolled her eyes instantly, shoving the phone deep within her purse. She successfully retrieved what she was actually looking for, finding her pink cigarette box, pressing the button along the side as an equally pink bud released from the top. She pressed it in between her lips, fully focused as she searched for her lighter. Nothing.
She became more antsy as the air swooped around her, fishing around her purse deeper as she continued to search. A thought runs across her mind to completely dump the contents of her purse along the ground, knowing that was overzealous. She groans as she can’t seem to find it. Had she left it at home?
Her eyes then follow over to the light bursting open in her vision as the door swings out, quickly returning back to darkness as a body now stands a couple of feet away from her. A broken light above them flickers down onto a tall man. Cigarette poking in between the plush of his lips, even being in darkness, she sees him. He was horrifyingly attractive. Tattoos roam under the black top he wears, the shirt seemingly supposed to have an oversized look but it mistakenly clung to his hard upper body. Gauges swinging in his ears, low bun dropping tendrils around his face as he lights the end of his cigarette, shaking the fire off the tip as he inhales quickly. She drinks in his appearance. Eyebrow piercing glinting under the dim light, midnight black hair that complimented his olive skin, piercing eyebrows that give him a natural frown. Jesus.
She usually could see attractive men and go about her day. But something about him clung to her, moth to a flame as she stared at him. He was beautiful. The only thing that took her out of her staring was her phone buzzing in her purse again. She opens it, eyes dropping down to the lit screen.
FROM:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
ik you’re at the club. let me pull up to your section.
She turns her phone over in her purse, other hand still holding her box of cigarettes. She usually wasn’t the type to approach a stranger in any scenario, but it wasn’t gonna kill her to ask, nor would it kill her if he said no. She takes a deep breath, taking a couple of steps towards him as she asks, “Sorry—you gotta’ light?”
His figure was tall and well toned more up close. His eyes shifted over to her, smoke coming out of his nose similar to a dragon as he stared down at her smaller frame. The way that she drank in his appearance wasn’t the way he consumed hers. She stood in front of him, pretty as can be. Light brown skin, onyx curls that wrapped around the fullness of her baby face and heart shaped russet lips. Her eyebrows were darker than the night, arched over the wisps of lashes that lined the edge of her eyelids. Her face was almost feline under the dim light. Dark brown eyes glowing viciously at him, coaxing his attention. Between the brown lip liner and mauve color scheme she mixed together, nose having a tiny amount of pink blush on it, it all enhanced her beauty in a way that gave her a great amount of appeal. If it wasn’t her face, it definitely was the heavily detailed dress she wore, clinging to a preposterous figure as it was a long sleeved, deep v neck design dipping down her chest to show the valley of her taut breast. Her nipples poke through the multicolored material as if saying hello to him, fabric clasping around her child bearing hips, fat ass, skidding down to the dangerously tall red bottoms she wears. She was sexy if he couldn’t think of another word.
“Yeah,” his deep voice rang in her mind, reaching somewhere in her body—maybe nudging her clit—as her brain scattered fantasies of hearing that voice in her ear. She shook the thought away as quickly as it came, watching as he leans forward, flicking the lighter as he cuffs his large hand over it. Her body leans into him as she successfully lights the end of the cigarette, pressing her two fingers around it as she inhaled, letting the smoke fill the space.
In her own way of saying thank you, she attempts to spark a conversation as she mutters, “Trying to knock my habit. I seem to be failing.”
The man chuckles softly, a sly smile growing across his lips, “Same here. Shit is too expensive.”
As he watched her take in a long inhale from the cigar, his dark eyes would scan over the rest of her body.
“What’s an innocent girl doing out here alone? Tryna’ get away from the loud music?”
“Innocent?” She raises an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in her eye, “How presumptive. Just needed a moment of silence, not much of a club person,” she explains.
His deep chuckle was smooth in her chest, shaking logic off of her shoulders as she felt a little too captivated in wanting to hear everything he had to say. He’d give her another charming smile before he nodded his head, “Too bad, pretty little doll like you shouldn’t be smoking like an old ass man. Sure you aren’t out here hiding from a crazy ex or something?”
What a damn flirt, she thinks. Nonetheless it causes her to chuckle, “Mm, not quite. I’m actually here with my best friends. It was easier to come out here, I wasn't trying to bring down the mood with my shitty one.”
Her eyes knock down to her phone that buzzes again, a roll coming to her eyes as she doesn’t read the message this time. The man in front of her seemed to be studying her, almost. He sees as she refuses to look at her phone.
He’d raise his eyebrows, “I didn’t peg you to be a liar.”
“You shouldn’t peg a stranger to tell you any type of truth,” she’s quick, he thinks, a smile back along his lips as he turns his face towards the night.
“Entertain me, then. You gotta’ man?” He flatly asks.
“Had one. You’re nosey, it’s cute.”
“It’s an occupational hazard,” his eyes flick down her body, “I’d like to think I’m making conversation. You’re good at fuckin’ around before giving a solid answer,” he tells her, bringing his lighter back out as he flicks it on for the end of his cigarette.
She leans back against the building, noticing the intense stare he gives her, almost like he wanted to pin her along the wall.
“Ex-boyfriend. Almost a month now.”
He’d give a nod of his head upon hearing her response. After taking a long exhale of the cigar from his lips, he’d glance down at her again, “Must’ve been a fuckin’ idiot. The bastard cheated or something?”
She turns her head towards him, silence as she hears what could’ve been a compliment, “With my co-worker, actually. Called me crying that her car broke down and I asked him to give her a ride to my apartment. He had my car. Next thing I knew, she was riding him,” she shrugs, hearing as he sucks his teeth, “It’s okay. I’m trying to be a big girl about it.”
“I’ll kill him for you,” his voice is serious.
She lets out another breath, laughing softly as she says, “He’d be dead if my intent was to kill him.”
“That’s a damn shame. You should be angry,” he tells her, scanning her face that rids any emotion from the comment. She’s quiet.
She shrugs, “Could just be a coping mechanism. We were together for a while. NowI just feel—stuck…”
She feels like she’s over sharing. She shakes her head, changing the subject as she asks, “So what are you doing out here by yourself? You’re not a creep, are you?”
A deep chuckle comes from under his breath, “A man can’t take a smoke break?”
“Not if he’s preying on innocent women, scathing for their vulnerability,” she scans his face, his amusement to her words unbearably attractive as he shows his bone straight smile to laugh.
“And you say I’m the cute one,” He exhaled the smoke, watching as the puffs quickly got taken up by the soft wind before it scattered in every direction.
Although he seems to brush off her slightly rude comment, she snapped only because he was digging the surface of her emotions. She didn’t like that. She let out a breath as she tried to correct herself, “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to offend. I’ve heard there are monsters crawling the city at night,” she tries to joke, “But I am voluntarily smoking beside you. So I can’t really call you anything.”
“Need me to protect you?” He taunts.
“Absolutely not. Maybe you’re projecting, sure you’re not the one in need of saving?”
He eyes her, “Funny. To answer your question, I’m here with some friends—I needed a moment to myself.”
“Doesn’t answer on whether you need saving or not.”
“You seem to have a big imagination,” he then points out, flicking his cigarette onto the ground, raising himself off of the wall as he steps closer to her.
“Bigger than a child’s,” she agrees, “I’ll always be a believer in spooky things,” she states, twisting the cigarette within her fingers.
“I could be one of those monsters,” he shrugs, body towering her frame as he now fully stands.
She continues to lean along the wall, a small laugh falling from her lips as the nicotine makes her slightly buzzed, eyeing him in a way she hadn’t before. Her phone buzzed in her purse again. He was close to her, his cologne drowning in her nose as he placed his arm along the side of her body against the wall.
“Are you scared?” He asks, his voice low, deep.
She shakes her head, trying to suppress her smile as she says, “Nope.”
“Good.”
It was true. At that moment, she felt nothing. All she could see was this attractive man in front of her, the tendrils of his hair close to her face. He’s trouble. On the other hand she thinks—should’ve had a goddamn lighter.
Right on time, the door to the club then swings open. Eyes look around outside, successfully finding her friend as she holds her phone to her ear, “Here her ass goes. Earth to the birthday girl! I’ve called you three times, Star. ’The hell have you been doing out here?” She eyes the man with a frown, bringing her focus back to her friend.
His eyebrows slightly raise at that, yet he keeps his eyes on her. An evil grin reappears atop of that eerily straight smile as he smugly states, “Looks like your smoke break is over, birthday girl.”
She sighs, “Unfortunately. And your name was?”
“Suguru,” he replies, the name sounding sexy falling from his lips. A brief thought wonders what it’d sound like falling out of her own mouth.
“Nice to meet you,” she hums, “Thanks for the light.”
She dropped her cigarette along the ground, digging her thin heel into the object before making her way inside, his eyes knocking down to her ass, “No problem,” leaving him outside by himself.
The rest of the night was better than she expected it to be. Her mood was up a bit more—specifically after a couple shots of Dussè—an outgoing personality now fitting along with the rest of her friends as they sang her happy birthday. She could admit, the rest of the night also included her constantly making eyes at Suguru, his presence reaching from the other side of the club even as he distractedly spoke to his friends. She felt him staring. Her phone buzzed in the corner of their section, Star and her friends now tipsily rapping out to ‘Fake Jammin’ by Sexxy Redd, the alcohol in her system providing a confidence as as bent over the table, swinging her hips to the song, dipping down sultrily, careless of the eyes that followed her body. And yes, she knew he was looking. As she continued to giggle and dance with her friends, she curiously looked over to see if he was watching. Of course he was.
Yeah, okay. He thought to himself.
The night eventually came to an end, the DJ announcing that the club was closing with it being four-thirty in the morning. Star’s feet were aching in her heels as she trudged behind her friends through the front door, her body feeling the presence of the man she’d met outside behind her, even in the chaos of other people walking. She refused to look back. Even with her feet hurting, she was still a little floaty from her previous shots, a giddiness that couldn't ruin her happiness. Her other friends trailed behind her, two of them holding onto each other as they were drunk, her best friend also being the only other sober one.
“We woke up in the kitchen saying ‘How the hell did this shit happen? Oh baby!” One friend sings behind her, seemingly becoming more intoxicated as she shouts out the lyrics.
“Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club—“ the other sings, clinging onto her friends arm as they sing in unison, “DRUNK IN LOVEE!”
“You think they’re gonna throw up?” Star asks, trying to hide her laugh as they belt out the chorus.
“God I hope not,” her best friend sighs, eyes on the screen of her phone as she throws her purse up her shoulder, “Big-E just texted me, said he wants me to pull up on him.”
“Who?” Star frowns deeply.
Her best friend frowns back, “Don’t do that. You know that’s my lil’ play thing!”
“Oh girl, you mean Emmanuel? The one that steals cars?” She ignores the arm that shoves her away, laughing at her best friend's irritation, “Please call that man by his government. I am not calling his ass by that stupid ass street name.”
“It’s cute!”
Star rolls her eyes, “Ghetto. You’re tryna’ go over there right now?”
She nods her head in reply, “Imma’ drop off dumb and dumber to my house before I go, let them raid my kitchen and sober themselves up. You’ good to drive home?”
“Yeah, I’m good—“
At the mention of her car, she halts as she sees her blood red Camaro, a bright yellow catching her eye as she sees not just one—but two boots on her back wheels. Her energy quickly falters, anger seeping up her spine as she picks up her dress, darting closer to her car as she spits, “Motherfucker.”
“Oh hell,” her best friend curses, “I thought you paid to park?”
“I did! Fuckin’ forty dollars just so I could be close to the door, the bouncer told me it was fine! That stupid ass nig—“
“Calm down. What are you gonna’ do?”
“I don’t fucking know. I have a night shift later on. This is so stupid!” She exclaims, leaning along her vehicle as she runs her fingers through her hair exasperatedly.
Almost like clockwork, Suguru appeared behind her after overhearing the conversation between Star and her friends, seeing as she was now fuming about the boot on her wheels. He gave a nod to his own friends as he made his way over to the bodies standing around her vehicle, a small hint of amusement on his face as he asked, “Everything alright?”
“Hell no. Motherfuckers put a boot on my damn car.”
“Damn. That’s crazy,” he tells her.
She narrows her eyes at the unnecessary comment, feeling her pressure spiking at the shit-eating grin upon his face. She then states, “Did you need something? Cause’ unless you got Triple A in your back pocket, imma’ ask you to get the fuck away from my car.”
“Hm, I didn’t know Triple A took boots off of cars,” he replies, tilting his head sarcastically.
Her eye twitches. Just as she’s about to go off on him, one of her drunken friends cuts her off as she drops her face to get a look at him, eyeing his body up and down as she asks, “Where the hell you’ from? It damn sure ain’t Louisiana.”
He smirks towards her as he replies, “Kyoto, Japan. Moved out here when I was younger, I stayed to help rebuild the businesses needing repair from Hurricane Katrina.”
“Oooh, that’s what you do for work?” The other friend also slurs.
“Imma’ architect, love. So yes.”
“Oooh, a working man. I like that,” the two friends both play off of each other, moaning together.
Star’s annoyance nearly clouds at the top of her head, Suguru enjoying the way her face becomes red, full cheeks fuming as she stares at him. She looked adorable.
“Your friends are funny,” he chuckles.
“Then get their numbers. You seem to be interested,” she fires back.
“Cute,” he eyes her, “I want you though.”
“So? Get in line. You ain’t the only one.”
“I wasn’t asking,” he tells her, large frame hovering over hers as he stares down. Unfortunately she was slightly mesmerized. What a fucking-goddamn flirt, she thinks again.
“I’ll take you home, babydoll. Since you seem to be stuck here anyway.”
“Nuh-uh! Hell no. You’ fine and all, but nobody knows your big headed ass. Try again, make your way back to your lil’ boy band,” her best friend cuts off.
Star shrugs, “I don’t know you.”
He’d glance down at her, shrugging his shoulders with his hands shoved in pockets before he’d gaze down into her friends eyes, “I understand. How about I give you my information?”
“Oop! He’s good,” the drunk friend comments.
“Whew, fine as hell, too!,” the other muttered, drunkenly giggling amongst each other.
Her best friend still has her arms crossed with narrowed eyes as she replies, “That sounds good and all, but no. Let’s go, Star.”
Star lets out a breath, seeing that irregardless of his playful nature, he becomes serious as he speaks of her safety. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get a ride home from an attractive man, that’s all it was going to be. She then turns to her best friend, “Actually, it’s okay. He can take me home. I know you wanna go to your little sneaky links house and end the night off with him. You have my location, I’ll be fine. Go to Big-E’s house, or whatever the fuck his name is.”
“Big-E?” Suguru frowns, Star quickly reminds, “Hush.”
“You sure?” Her best friend frowns.
“Positive.”
She then looks back at Suguru as she says, “She has a gun. Just so you know.”
“You’ll have my information, she has her gun. She’ll be good,” he promises.
Her best friend apprehensively stares between the two, sighing out as she says, “Fine. Keep your phone close to you at all times, so god help me I will chop you up into little pieces if you don’t answer me,” she threatens, pulling her into a hug.
“I’ll hand you the knife,” Star chuckles, tightening the embrace.
“Let me get these dumbasses home,” she sighs, “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Star replies, the two girls behind them giggling as they wave to Suguru, “Byeeeee.”
He waves shyly, chuckling as they pull each other along to the car. Once the two are now left alone, Star looks to him as she says, “You think you’re so cute, huh?”
“I am. My mom tells me all the time,” he replies, “So, Big-E? That’s a cool name.”
“I’m ignoring you,” she mutters, going towards her car as she begins to pull her work clothes out of the backseat.
“Can you call me Big-S?”
“I will fuckin’ shoot you.”
The first thirty minutes of the car ride had been silent. Star had her eyes forward, her mind stressing over the fact that her car had a boot on it, her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing, and she was now receiving a ride from an ungodly hot stranger that slightly annoyed her. Her feet also ached. But she needed something to uplift her spirits. The wind rushed through her hair as he drove a sleek black Challenger, customizing it to look almost retro as it had a drop top, headlights a lime green color as it shined onto the street.
“Nice car,” she compliments softly.
He turns his head towards her, “So she does speak.”
“You can just say thank you.”
“Thank you,” he replies, “Wanna see how fast it goes?”
“No—“
She squeals out as he presses his foot on the gas, igniting the engine as he speeds faster down the road. She grips onto the door with a now red face. Suguru chuckles, the car engine growing louder as he presses his foot down.
“Relax, pretty. I’m a good driver, Never had an accident,” he would reassure, looking back at the road, “You mentioned having a night shift. Where do you work?”
“I’m an uh—Phlebotomist,” she tells him, shrieking lightly as he goes even faster, “Would you stop it?!Don’t be an ass, speeding down the highway and killing me won't make your dick any bigger!”
His laughter grew as she would shriek when he continued to drive even faster, taking corners just to tease her more, “I’m just tryna’ lighten up your night a bit, it is your birthday.”
“Or just slow down?” She suggested. Her eyes fall down to her phone that vibrates once again, body becoming irritated at the familiar number.
FROM:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
you ignoring me fr?
She flips the phone on her lap. Suguru catches this movement, looking down as he asks, “Ex tryna’ contact you again?”
“Unfortunately,” she mutters.
“Why not just block him?”
She thinks on that question, trying to figure out whether she wants to be honest with him—or honest with herself, really.
“I like the attention. But I don’t want to talk to him,” she shrugs.
He raises an eyebrow, “Isn't that a little petty?”
“Petty? Might be. I enjoy seeing him suffer a bit—if he’s even suffering. He’s probably calling me, laid up with some bitch as we speak,” a roughness is in her voice, almost like jealousy. She could admit that the idea bothered her a bit.
Suguru keeps his eyes on the road in front of them, “Maybe he is. Why do you give a fuck, though? He doesn’t deserve you. You’re a fuckin’ ten, he’s an idiot.”
She feels her face become warm, not sure why his words make her a little flustered. She usually had control in these situations. She then says, “I didn’t ask for a therapy session.”
“Not trying to give you one,” he frowned, “If you truly didn’t care, you would’ve cut contact. Saying you enjoy the attention sounds like bullshit. You still have some sort of feelings for him.”
“You really are nosey, aren’t you?” She scrunches her face.
“You went from your whole body shriveling up when he texts to you getting upset over the possibility that he is with someone else. Which is it?”
“Would you rather me shoot you in your ass, or shove my foot up there? Which is it?” She mocks, back to being annoyed with him.
“I hit a nerve,” he points out, “You could’ve just told me to drop the subject.”
“Threatening to shoot you should have sufficed that I wanted the conversation to end,” she sneers.
Their relationship was an extreme sore spot for her. She wasn’t sure if feelings were still there, or she was bitter from being hurt—nonetheless, she didn’t want to hear the truth. He couldn’t help but still think she was incredibly cute even when upset with him. As he continues to drive, the car is back to being silent. The streets are completely empty as her eyes stare out the window. Suguru then halted, twisting the wheel as he began to spin the vehicle.
Her wide eyes shifted to him as she asked, “What are you doing?”
A mischief is now in his eyes as he looks at her. He presses his foot along the gas, the car beginning to swerve faster as it flew backwards. He’s doing donuts. At first, she’s completely terrified. She cries, “Hey! Stop it!” Her hair flying all around her face, wind smacking her body.
“I told your ass to relax,” he places his hand along her thigh, reassuringly squeezing as he takes his other hand, turning the wheel in the direction he wants to go.
The car begins to spin faster. Her heart nearly falls in her ass. But as it continues, it feels almost as if she’s on a rollercoaster. Her stomach dropped in a way that made her feel ticklish. It felt like her entire body weighed nothing, and she was flowing through the air like a bird. Her curiosity got the best of her as the music within the car boomed along her skin, her head slightly tilting outside of the car, hair flying in the opposite direction, air swooping along her scalp. She faintly giggles.
The air felt good in her face, pulling her unruly curls out of it as the street lights shined along her expression. In that same second she jumped from curiosity to fearlessness. She shuffled onto her knees as she leaned her upper body out of the car and yelled out, releasing all the pent up energy within her body, whether it was good or bad.
Suguru grinned as he saw her beginning to enjoy herself. He would glance over at her, watching as she would lean out the car to yell, Cheshire grin along her face. Her frame was beautiful as she bent over, his mind aching to touch her, feeling the peace that radiated off her body. It sounded stupid to say, but at that moment she felt— free. She brought her head back into the car and laughed, seeing as Suguru reversed the vehicle back on the road, howling as he sped down the street.
“Look at you, so pretty when you’re not mad.”
“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes, biting her own mouth as she didn’t want to smile.
He poked her cheek, “I see that smile, you can’t hide it. Now I wanna make you smile all the time.”
She keeps her eyes to her lap, shaking her head at his words. Damn. She hated how good he was. Her mind has that floaty feeling she had when she first exited the club, body tingling as Suguru reached for her thigh again. He dragged his fingers up as he searched for her hand, pulling her towards himself as he kissed her palm, muttering, “You’re sweet, doll,” holding their intertwined fingers in his own lap. Something shifted in her chest.
They had finally made it to her apartment after almost an hour of driving. Although, she could admit that she was glad to have that hour with him. Silence greets them again, her free hand patting lightly along her lap as she tries to find her words. She couldn’t lie, he was patient —despite the multiple occasions where she almost crashed out. She felt like she needed to grow fond of the word sweet and take action.
“Um—do you wanna come inside for breakfast? My treat,” she offers, “I mean—I feel like I owe you something—if you want. Just—yes or no, please?” She stuttered out, wanting to kick herself.
For the first time, he catches her being…nervous? Those same round cheeks that he couldn’t stop staring at were warm within her face, no blush needed for her skin as she was doing it naturally.
A smirk grew in his face as he decided he wouldn’t make fun of her for it, “That’s fine.”
“That’s fine? That’s like saying, ‘sure’ like you just do it cause it seems convenient—“
“Star. I want to. Stop fussing, brat.”
She rolls her eyes, “I’m not a damn brat. Just needed clarification,” she grumbles.
“Can you feed a man, babydoll? I got needs,” he touches his stomach, groaning dramatically.
She’d never had another man in her house besides her ex in years. Although she wanted to play along with him, her awkwardness was beginning to return. She nodded her head, “Good. Yeah. Good. Okay,” she muttered, now wanting to full on roundhouse kick herself.
He grabs her things for her as she gets out of the car, Star’s nonexistent ass hairs standing up as he follows her up the stairs into her small apartment. Pink decor and stuffed animals laid all around the living room.
“Don’t say shit about my girly ass house, healing my inner child,” she defends, locking the door behind him. Her apartment almost seemed too small with him in it, his large frame damn near covering the entire house.
He’d glance around the room, feeling a little taken back by the large amounts of pink decor and toys, Suguru finding himself even more interested the more he saw. He let out a chuckle, “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”
He’d lean against the wall as the two of them stood inside, glancing down at his towering height, her apartment being so tiny that he almost had to kneel down to not reach the ceiling.
“Kuromi?” She then calls.
Before Suguru could ask who she was calling for, a pitch black pit-bull came flying out of her bedroom, beelining straight for him. As intimidating as the dog looked, the large animal pants excitedly at the scent of a new guest within the house, rubbing her body against him happily.
“Don’t worry. She’s harmless, as much as I want her to be the most terrifying guard dog. I think she secretly wants to be a cat, rubbing up against you like that,” Star can’t help but smile.
The dog was adorable. He let out another chuckle as he looked, crouching down with his hand extended, “Hey, girl. Come here.”
“You better stop, she falls in love easily,” Star warns as she sees them becoming acquainted, “Anything in particular you want for breakfast? I’ll cook anything but bacon, me or Kuromi don’t do pork,” she explained, patting her dog as she jumped up beside her, excitedly yelping at her presence.
“Why don’t you do pork?”
Star presses her lips together, sighing out as she hates telling this story, “Well…there was a petting zoo at my job one time and I took Kuromi with me cause they said other animals were allowed. And—well, she ate one of the pigs. It was so sad,” she frowns, her eyes coming up as she sees him trying to hold in his laugh, “Hey! Not funny,” she pouts.
Suguru’s eyes widened in curiosity at her answer to his question, before immediately letting out a laugh. His laugh would only continue further “Why the hell would you bring your dog to a petting zoo?”
“I just wanted her to see other animals,” she continues to pout, moving her face away as he gently touches her chin in comfort.
He’d look down at her as she pouted, unable to hold back from gently caressing her chin with his palm. He found himself being a little intrigued at the look she seemed to frequently make, Suguru leaning forward, “Your pouts are adorable, y’know that? I’ve never seen anyone who pouts and tantrums as much as you do.”
“I do not tantrum, dickhead. Just complain more often than others,” she corrects, making her way towards the kitchen, beginning to search around as she stated, “Just for that you’re getting a damn omelet. No choices for you!”
She bent over into the fridge, never noticing his eyes that continuously knocked down to her ass any opportunity he had to do so. He followed behind her as he leaned onto the counter, “What if I’m allergic to eggs? What if I was looking forward to having pancakes or something?”
“Then I hope you have an epipen! Should’ve thought about that before you basically called me a toddler,” she retorts, diving into the fridge for the ingredients she needed, placing them on the counter.
He found himself amused by her attitude. He’d lean over her shoulder slightly as she brought out the ingredients she needed, letting a grin grow on his lips as he spoke into her ear, “Keep talking shit and I’ll put you over my knee to spank your ass like a damn toddler.”
She blows her hair out of her face, feeling a chill run through her body at his close proximity. She brushes him off as she then mutters, “Womp womp. Whatever, anyways, ooh! I have turkey bacon, is that okay?”
He exhales, “Perfectly fine, baby. Let’s hope you cook as good as you look.”
“Don’t be tryna’ kiss my ass now cause you want a good breakfast. Besides, I’m the best omelet maker in this century. In this galaxy, you’ll see,” she nods her head, grabbing for a pan and whisking spoon.
“Are you even alive if you haven’t had an omelet from Star?” He taunts.
Star winks, “Exactly. You’re smart. I like men with big sexy brains.”
As she begins cracking the eggs into a bowl, her phone buzzes for the thousandth time tonight. She unfortunately had the ability to see the screen since it was facing upward, briefly reading over the message, honestly wishing she hadn’t.
FROM:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
imma come over there when i get off work. i wanna talk to you. i fucked up.
“Do you need me to block his ass for you? You seem to be fuckin’ hardheaded,” Suguru speaks, Star looking behind herself as she catches an irritation in his voice.
“He’s just pissed that I’m ignoring him. He’ll stop eventually.”
“He’s been texting you since four in the morning, probably even before that. It’s damn near seven now. The more you ignore him, the more he’s gonna seek out your response.”
“Are you putting on your therapist hat again? I don’t think I asked for another session,” she furrowed her eyebrows towards him.
“I don’t need to wear my therapist hat to understand how an ex’s shitty behavior works, baby. You’re an enabler.”
She let out a breath as she asked, “Hand me an egg, please?” Reflexively blowing her hair out of her face as she tried to ignore his comment.
He raised a brow at the sudden change of subject, his hand beginning to move to pick up one of the eggs before he’d tease, “Say please again. Much sweeter in your pretty voice.”
“Hand me the fucking egg, jackass?” She corrects herself, smiling as she does so.
“Good girl. You’re better behaved than before,” he then hands her the egg, Star snatching it out of his palm.
Star begins to play music from her phone, ignoring the multiple messages as she places it back down, continuing to cook. Silence comes back between the two as Suguru begins looking around her apartment, catching younger pictures of her, family portraits, small things that made him grin. As he continued to her bedroom, he noticed a phone holder mounted along her wall across from the bed, frowning at the randomly placed adapter.
“What’s this for?” He asks, Star leaning herself out of the kitchen as she follows his eyes to her bedroom, “Hm?”
As she made eye contact with the familiar piece of equipment, an influx of memories came flooding into her mind. She couldn’t debate whether they were fond memories. She wipes her hands with a paper towel, annoyed at the blood filling her cheeks as she replies, “We uh…use to record ourselves…y’know. Or I’d record something for him,” she says quietly.
His brows would raise a little as he heard her explain what it had been used for, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.
“Don’t smile like that. It’s creepy,” she turned back into the kitchen, continuing to crack another egg into the bowl as she was planning to mix the yolk with seasoning.
“That’s not very nice, doll. I didn’t even make fun of you this time.”
“Your face told it all,” she grumbled.
“How about you make your signature omelet so good it completely masks my thoughts?” He’s back to his taunting, entertained by how riled up it makes her.
“Maybe I should poison it then, hm?” She suggests politely.
“Will it give me the shits or make me sleepy?”
She presses her lips together, a small chuckle leaving her mouth at that as she giggles, “You’re so dumb.”
The soft music playing was a comfort to her. With all of their innocent flirting, Star didn’t realize just how much she was intriguing Suguru. All of the times she had an attitude with him, snapped at him, her smile, her sexy laugh, all of it was being jotted down in his head. He was like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any second. Fortunately for her, his time capsule had began when they first met. Unfortunately, his time capsule had just now run out. As she began to stir the egg yolk, her eyes hadn’t noticed as Suguru watched her every move. His vision had darkened, tunneling in on her. Specifically on her dress and the way her body curved within it.
Her innocence had gotten the best of her, in her own world as she happily spoke, “You’re gonna love the taste of these, promise.”
“I wanna taste you instead.”
The words fall from his lips quickly. It spiked up her spine like he’d lit a match, making sure that she wasn’t crazy and that she’d heard his words correctly.
Her eyes turn towards him as she says, “I—huh?—“
She squealed lightly as he picked her up by the hips, placing her roughly on the kitchen counter. Her face goes completely hot, unable to say anything against his dark eyes. He would laugh darkly at her reaction, taking in the way her cheeks flushed brightly as he placed her onto the countertop with such ease. His eyes would wander over her now exposed thighs, hands gripping the skin as he moved to stand in between them, “Are you always this pretty when you’re flustered, Star?”
“Flustered? I—well—“
His lips are along her throat, Star’s hand flying upward and gripping tightly along his neck as he sucks along the skin like it’d be his last time ever doing so. Her entire body melted at his touch. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d felt this type of pleasure, her eyes fluttered shut, a whimper leaving her mouth before she could think about suppressing it.
He would feel her grip him tightly as she let out a light whimper, a grin spreading wide on his face hearing the noise fall from her mouth. He would press another few kisses onto her throat, his mouth trailing up until he lightly nipped at her ear, tugging it between his teeth as he whispered to her, “Fuck. You’re so sensitive, baby. You’re already falling apart.”
She didn’t know where these feelings came from, but it was like a river rushing through a dam, crumbling the wall as her body was now immensely aroused. She wanted him to touch her in ways no one else hadn’t. No one else couldn’t. Her phone began to buzz again, her eyes looking over to it, suddenly being pulled away as Suguru gripped her chin, harshly pulling her mouth to his.
He would be brought out of his own thoughts, feeling her begin to look away as the sound of her phone echoed through the room again. A low growl would come from his chest as he began to pull her chin back towards him, his mouth deepening the kiss. His hands would move up, grabbing onto her hips as he pulled her forward towards him, pressing her body more firmly against his own. His kiss was different. It was passionate, all while being completely lustful. His tongue was within her mouth, damn near removing the tonsils from her throat as he swirled it around, holding her by her chin dominantly.
His tongue explored the inside of her mouth as he groaned softly, loving the taste she had. She was sweeter than she looked. He would move one of his hands down to her thigh, giving her skin a light pinch between his fingers, Star gasping softly as he hoisted her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist. In that vast moment he also used one of his hands to grab her phone. He continued to kiss her, digging his fingers into her scalp as he jerked her head back, yanking her face upwards to suck along the skin of her throat. The feeling was so overwhelming, her eyes closed as she dug her teeth into her lip.
She barely had a conscience to notice as he placed her phone within the holder against the wall, her ears then registering as he turned on the camera, pressing the record button.
She looked up to him as she said, “What are you…”
He would chuckle at her questioning tone, his lips moving down along her jawline as he replied, “I wanna see how pretty you look on camera. You like being watched, doll?”
“No,” she immediately lies. Her entire being was interested in his offer, but she refused to let herself fall that easily. Her breath hitched as his hand fell down to her ass, gripping the skin in his palm as he harshly spanked her at her response.
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Be honest and give me permission before I do anything else to you,” he demands.
She was at a loss for words. When she realized that he was more worried about her consent than anything else, she nodded her head, “Yes, I like being watched,” coming so soft from her plush lips, pulling him forward into another kiss.
She’d never had a man be so forward with her, eyes catching her face within the camera as he laid her along the end of the bed, her eyes only able to see his broad back within the camera as he gripped his shirt from behind, removing it to reveal an inked up back.
His eyes would glance into the camera that was pointed at the two of them, his grin slowly growing into a full smirk as he saw her expression. His arms flexed around him, showing off the ink that was along his back before he’d pull the shirt off fully, tossing it to the floor as he turned back around and kneeled down in front of her.
Her eyes watched him. Her entire frame jumped as he yanked her to the end of the bed, tossing her legs over his shoulders. She then heard him mutter, “Fuck that,” twisting her around so her back was now facing the camera, his body leaning against the front of the bed. She was now sitting along the top of his face, legs hoisted above his broad shoulders.
He groans, digging his fingers into her skin as he pushes her dress up, his eyes catching sight of the name, ‘Angel’ tattooed along her ass cheek. He arrogantly chuckles, Star gasping lightly as he spanks right above the name, gripping the trembling skin within his palm as he groans, “Imma’ eat your pussy so fucking good.”
He instantly wraps his lips around her clit as he pulls her down, grunting as he tastes her, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he does so. She was like candy to an addict, a reward that wasn’t so easily given to him. He wanted to drown in her. A demon out of hell he was, sucking along Star’s clit as he dragged his tongue through the entirety of her, twisting his head from side to side as he delved deeper, relishing her scent melodically.
She sucked in a breath, knees shifting on the edge of the bed as he held her by the back of her thighs, his eyes locking up to hers in a way that had her release a cruel exhale.
“I’m g—gonna fall—“
She nearly slipped, his strong arms catching her legs, locking them up over his shoulders, allowing her to lean halfway on the bed. He guided, “Control your hips, baby. I’m doing the rest. You’re so fuckin’ wet. I want more,” he grunts, nuzzling his lips against her clit, nudging the sensitive flesh as he lapped his tongue up and down, gripping her skin tighter as he commanded, “Give me more.”
“Suguru,” she whimpered. He realized up until now that this was her first time saying his name, the sound so foreign among her tongue that it ignited him even further. Her back arched, deepening her core along his face, shuddering out another gasp. His tongue worked along her sensitive folds in teasing strokes, dragging down until he met with her squelching hole, tongue fitting perfectly inside of her as he pushed within the velvet of her walls.
Star’s mouth broke open as she moaned, gripping her hand in his hair that framed along the edge of the bed. He ground her hips along his face with desperation. It was as if he were starving, making out with her core in a way that had his lips and jaw soaked, head knocking up and down as he grunted against her.
He locked his mouth along her clit again, Star shudderingly gasping and whining peevishly that she tugged his hair, eyes tightly shut as he dirtily spit along her opening and watching as her chest palpitated, running his tongue along the entirety of her pussy and slowly pushing his head forward, suckling against her. He dirtily kissed her clit, eyeing it dangerously from above before spitting on it again, hungrily taking it back into his mouth. He devoured her. She gripped the dark streams until her knuckles blushed a crimson red, blood flow coursing through her veins immaculately.
Her eyes briefly made their way behind herself, seeing the outline of her body atop of his face, her vision able to see as his tongue plasters upward and onto her core, her eyes quickly falling back to the opposite direction as he stings another spank to her ass, “Pussy is so pretty, baby. Like fuckin’ art,” he groans.
He went from pressing kisses along her inner thighs just to get a look at her core glistening tempestuously, to his tongue again running along the entirety of her, taking in the rosy color against his taste buds, groaning tumultuously at how something so vulgar was deliriously alluring. Star’s lower abdomen trembled at the merciless action. Her hips swirled slightly as she whimpered gratifyingly when he ran his index and middle finger along her clit, running down her core before he sunk his fingers inside of her, scissoring her opening. Suguru listened as she prettily moaned in his ears from the harsh actions, her nails shoving into his hair as he inhaled her honey streamed scent and delectable taste, a mixture of inebriety that Suguru desired for.
She thought for a second, maybe he hated her. Maybe he wanted to do some type of torture upon her. Had to. His long tongue, slick with saliva lengthens out as he grips the bottom of her thighs, bouncing her up and down against his face, grunting each time his tongue pokes at her g-spot. Star reaches back as he grips for his arm, whimpering as Suguru shoves her hand away, spanking her for even touching him.
“Put your fuckin’ hand down.”
“Suguru, please. I’m gonna cum.”
“Then make a mess on me.”
The sound of her opening sounds wet, sticky and spurting out as she creams just from his mouth, Suguru arrogantly chuckling as he spreads his tongue for the camera, “Yeah, yeah. Too fuckin’ good to me, creaming on my tongue. Imagine how you’ll look on my dick. I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”
She believes him, too. Star holds her breath as he pulls her body upwards, his back now fully against the bed’s banister as he sat up against it. He was quick, twisting her hair within his fist as he guided her pretty face towards him, locking her within a kiss that she had to exhale for. He pulls her back from his lips, “Such a fuckin’ brat,” Star is already knowing, reaching for the hem of his pants as she pulls them off, her eyes not expecting something so heavy and veiny to slap along his belly button. Her mouth goes agape.
He watches her within the camera, her silhouette beautiful to his eyes, back arching as she kneels towards him, lashes fluttering against her full cheeks as her breath hitches from the hold he has along her hair. She wraps her lips around his tip, pink and soft within her mouth as she slides her mouth down, letting him sink deeper within her throat until she coughs, humming with her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Suguru’s eyes never leave the sight of her on video, curls shifting in his fist as Star bobs her head up and down, whimpering out as she begins to move her neck faster, desperately wanting every inch of him within her throat.
“All you needed was something in that fuckin’ filthy mouth of yours,” he grunts, watching as she wraps her hands around the bottom that her mouth can’t reach, moaning softly as she massages his balls with her fingers. His intense stare at her darkens, “This is all you wanted, huh? Spit on my dick, don’t need you crying that I’m tearing you apart. Need you to take every inch of me.”
Shut up, shut up, she thinks, his words making her more wet by the second, gasping against him as he spanks her again, rushing his hand up to the back of her neck as he pushes her face down. Her arousal practically drips along the bed. Star’s lips begin to burn, her throat entirely full as his tip knocks at the top of her mouth, almost feeling empty each time he pulls out to slam back in.
“I’m so fuckin’ horny,” she whimpers, Suguru chuckling as he pulls her face up to his, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she admits, carelessly so, opening her mouth as she sucks him back down her throat, slamming her lips down the front of his hips, Suguru grunting out, abdomen tightening.
“Fuck. C’mere,” he pulls her up, smashing their lips together roughly. Star pouts along his mouth as he stopped her, whining again as he feels her pout, bringing his hand as he gently slaps her face, “Needy ass,” he grits his teeth, pulling her on top of his lap.
His tip is prodding at her opening. Her back arches as she raises her hips away from him, feeling his tip fat against her tiny hole. Suguru takes himself within his hand, using the other as he holds her hip above him, sinking his tip into her, stretching her out as his girth was just as large as his length. It felt almost cruel. She fought with her dress as her body became extremely hot, Suguru taking his hands as he effortlessly shredded the material, her mind too gone to even become upset.
He then gripped her chin, forcing her to look behind herself and into the camera. Her cheeks were warm as he did so, trying to turn back towards his eyes, unable to do so as he shook his head.
“Don’t look at me, babydoll. I want you to watch yourself as you ride me,” his tone had turned seductive as he spoke to her, his hands moving up to her waist before he’d add with a chuckle, “Put on a fuckin’ show for me,” he sinks her down further, Star’s eyes tightly shutting as his dick engulfed her entire body, a deep pinch of pleasure mixed with pain as she fully dropped down, whimpering as his balls slapped her thighs.
His eyes washed over her body without clothing, a figure more beautiful than he could imagine. Her large breast and brown areolas were made to look at, nipples shaking as he adjusted himself inside of her. Star can only stare at the name tatted on her skin for a moment. Suguru runs his fingers along the skin, gripping as he slams his palm down against it once more. She has no time to react as he’s pulling her hips up, dropping her down slowly, agonizing at this point. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, moaning out as she looked up to her face, blown with lust.
His grin grew into a full smirk as his hips began to move against hers, her moan echoing in his ears as he heard it. He’d chuckle softly at her reaction. His tongue would run along his bottom lip, his hands sliding up along her waist before he’d pull her body firmly onto his own, pulling his arms under her legs as he kept his fingers against the skin of her ass, pulling her up fast, dropping her down slowly. Star’s mouth parted, listening as their skin smacked in contact, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she stuttered, “O—oh my fuckin’ god, Suguru.”
“You want me so badly…fuckin’ hell. Your pussy keeps…pulling me in…” he talks in between her stretched core meeting his hips, skin clapping louder than before.
She seemed to lose herself in the heat, unable to listen as he spoke along her neck, “Oh shit,” pulling her down harder, skin melting together like velcro, snatching away from each other each time he placed her in the air, pulling her roughly back down, the balls of her feet swinging in the air as he was in full control of her. His face moves to press into her shoulder, his teeth finding her skin as he’d bite down along her neck and jawline.
His own face was within the camera now, keeping her lips above his skin so he could still hear every sound falling from her lips. She dug her fingers into his neck as her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, only able to groan deeply from his ruthless strokes, a pain that was so sweet to the touch.
His eyes would glance upwards, watching the way they rocked together in the camera that was still running, his smirk growing wider as he told her, “Eyes here. Now,” Star looking into his dark expression, mouth still open in shock of how good he was fucking her, how deep he was inside of her. She whimpers quietly, “Yeah, yeah,” eyes dropping to watch the monster that halfway pulls out, stretching her every time he shoves back in. Alabaster arousal paints his dick the more he pulls out, Star whimpering again, “Hitting my fuckin’ g-spot, baby,” and he smirks, “Pull my dick in more, yeah, yeah,” her walls clamping down on him, sucking him in like she never wanted to let go.
His teeth clamp down on her neck as he’d continue to bite and suck softly at her skin. He’d give another rough bite onto her, not stopping his hips from meeting her own, a moment of silence almost coming between them, their ears listening as she gushes on his dick, slick noises wavering between their bodies heavenly. He was evil, now taking both of his palms as he locked his fingers together around her lower back, gripping as he pulled her up, harshly dropping her down. The camera caught her entire face. She whined, “Baby,” the sound being captured as he kissed her lips, never stopping his movement.
He’d chuckle, “‘Baby?’ You’re falling apart,” his tongue pushing into her mouth and sliding across hers. He didn’t stop moving his hips, hands now sliding up along her back to tangle in her hair, locking his fingers back together as he has a trap along her curls. He’d groan against the kiss, mouth dominating her own as she whimpered, music against his lips that he wanted on replay.
His hands slid along her back, tangling more into hair as he was now bouncing her down onto his hips. Her eyes were to the back of her head, choking out cries against his mouth, moaning in ways she hadn’t before. Her reactions were all in the arrogance of his expression, her body pooling into his hands as she completely submitted to him. He’d groan again, a cocky expression on his face as he felt her submissive manner, his hands pulling at her hair to keep his mouth against hers. His tongue would slide across hers again as his eyes locked onto her own, a smirk playing on his mouth as his hips continued to rock. He’d pull his lips from hers, chuckling breathlessly as he’d command, “Tell me how much you like this shit.”
“Yes, baby. I like it so much. So much,” she softly cried, “I’m so…” she gasped within his mouth, his hand coming along her throat as he twisted her face towards the camera, slamming her hips down to meet his, “Don’t go mute on me, doll,” he’d tease with a chuckle, watching the way his hand had her face directed at the camera, the force slamming her hips down onto his own causing her to cry out again. His fingers tightened around her jaw, keeping her facing the camera as he whispered lowly, “Finish your sentences, big girl.”
She didn’t even remember, she was so lost within him. She admitted, “You’re making me feel so fuckin’ good…so good, Suguru…”
“That’s such a good girl,” he coos, his hand sliding from her jaw as his fingers tangled in her hair again, his mouth pressing into her shoulder as he’d start placing a series of marks along her skin. His hips would start to rock roughly against hers. He groans out, “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are.”
“You’re so pretty too, baby…” she whimpers mindlessly, “So fucking hot,” she whimpers deeply.
“You’re gonna make me get a big ego with all of that praise, baby,” he’d tease again, pulling her hair gently and groaning lowly. His hands slide along her back, fingers digging into her flesh as he continued rocking into her, her voice only able to be heard within the camera, Suguru keeping his face directly into the phone as she whined, “It’s already big…”
She probably sounded like a bimbo at this point. Star placed the bottom of her feet beside his legs, placing her hands on his arms, hair falling against her face as she poked her ass upwards, moving her own hips as she dropped down, bouncing as she hiccuped whines from doing so. “So fucking big baby, yes, stretching my pussy—” her voice is high, feminine, dumb. She knew it’d make him more arrogant. She didn't care.
He raises an eyebrow, smirk deadly as he places his hand along her throat, shoving her down to bounce harder as he spoke, “Look at you, bouncing and creaming on my dick like a fuckin’ slut. You look so pretty on camera, baby. Fuckin’ supermodel. Needy ass supermodel,” slapping his palm along the cheek of her face again, knocking her sense down more and more.
His hands move back under her thighs, locking his fingers together as he gains his control back, Star whining louder as he smacks her down onto his hips, a short pain rupturing up her spine, pleasure always overriding it. It felt so good. The camera was now focused on her, his own body not being seen at all, the only other thing being seen was his strong grip on her waist as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “You feel it, baby?” His tip reached for her insides, searching for her soul.
“I feel it,” she cries out, whining like a baby, dropping down onto his hips, gripping for his arm as she pulls it up to her throat, begging for him to squeeze without verbally asking.
He’d chuckle again, shaking his head at her whining, fingers nonetheless tightening around her throat as he added the pressure she wanted. He sees as tears collect in her eyes, mouth drooling as she sniffles out a senseless giggle. His mouth would move up to her throat, panting breathlessly against the area, tongue sticking out as he drags along the skin, “Feel that, doll?”
“I feel everything baby, every single thing,” she gasps, listening as their skin harshly makes contact, “You’re so sweet, baby…giving me what I want…”
“I’ll give you anything you want, doll,“ he’d groan, his hips rocking up to hers as she’d come down onto him, the sound of their bodies slamming together echoing in his ears. He’d groan again, his fingers tightening ever so slightly as he’d mutter breathlessly, “You’re taking me so fuckin’ good. I know I’m stretching you out.“
“Give me more then,” she groans, “Please. Please. I’m begging, baby.”
“You want more?“ He’d chuckle as they continued to rock together, his voice breathless as he’d speak, “How can I say no when you’re begging so nicely?”He’d groan, “You’re gonna have to help me out though, doll.”
“Tell me what to do,” she begs, gasping more than before.
His grip on her neck would loosen as he’d release, moving his fingers down along the center of her chest and towards her stomach, a smirk crossing his mouth as he’d mutter, “Lean back.”
She easily complied, placing her hands along his thighs as she leaned backwards. His hands would slide over her stomach again, his nails leaving light scrape marks along her skin as he’d continue, “Keep your back arched for me, baby. Can you do that? For me?“
She nodded her head, keeping herself more arched, breath shuddering as her hair fell along her eyes. She gasps softly as he takes a hold of her legs, placing them directly on the sides of his head as they were pointing upwards in the air, dropping her down against his hips, dick slamming up to her in a different angle. Her arms shook as she pulled her hips up so they weren’t sitting on his legs, eyes in the back of her head as her body sloppily dragged with him, moaning viciously at his movements.
“You’re such a good girl, Star,” he gruffly tells her, her unruly curls shadowing her eyes. Her plump lips parted as she moaned out, “Such a good girl for you, I promise. I’ll always be your good girl,” she moaned, sounding incredibly insane, she knew that. She still didn’t care.
“Keep talking like that and you’re gonna make me act crazy, baby,“ he’d groan. His mouth came forward, sucking on her nipple before he’d pulled away, a light mark left behind in the place of his mouth.
“You wanna be marked up by me, baby? Leave a couple of tattoos for you?” He asks her.
“Yes,” she whispers, eyes still in the back of her head, “Would love it so much, thank you, baby,” she whimpered, body trembling with every movement he gives her.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,“ he’d groan out, his hands giving her hair a light tug. His eyes would run along her body, biting his bottom lip as he’d mutter breathlessly, “Look at those pretty marks. So pretty all over your skin.”
“Lemme’ give you one, baby,” she begged, “Wanna feel your hair. Love your hair,” she complimented, staring over his beautiful features, the low bun within his hair still attempting to hold up, despite their activity.
He’d chuckle with a groan, smirking at her words before he’d release his grip on her hair, nodding as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “You can touch me, baby. I know you like my hair.” He’d brush a strand of hair from his face, watching her hands as they moved through it, biting down on his bottom lip.
She brought her hands into his dark hair, tugging lightly as she sucked the skin of his neck, eyes rolling as he was still dropping her down roughly along his hips, lips nearly falling off of his skin from the movement.
“You’re so damn talented with your mouth, baby,” he’d groan, the light tug on his hair bringing another groan from his chest. His hands slide along the skin of her abdomen, hips bucking upwards into her as he’d continue to let Star mark him with hickeys, his head falling forward. His breath would waft past her ear, words coming out in a groan as he’d whisper, “What am I gonna do with you?”
“Ruin me,” she gasped deeply, looking into his eyes, “You’re ruining me,” she cried out.
His breath hitches, a groan escaping him again as he’d feel his hips twitching upwards into hers, his expression growing dark as he’d listen to her words. He’d give a chuckle against her skin before biting down on her again as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ obsessed.”
“Do you feel good, baby? Please tell me you do,” she begged, kissing his lips softly, feeling her body relaxing in his, taking every movement he gives her.
“Baby, I feel fuckin’ amazing,“ he’d groan, his words being muttered against her lips as he’d slide his tongue into her mouth again, letting it tangle with hers. His hands would once again tangle in her hair, tugging on the dark tresses as he’d pressed her lips harder against his own, his breath wafting out against her face, “I feel so, so good, baby.”
“Gonna make me sore, baby…” she whimpered out, holding onto his hair, whimpers grunting into sobs as he brought them back to their original position, bouncing her up and down.
“I’ll tear your fuckin’ pussy apart,” he grunts out, hips bucking upwards as he’d listen to her whiney tone. He was getting close, it wouldn’t be much longer for him with the way her cries were echoing.
But no. That’s not how he wanted her to finish. He suddenly twisted their positions, his body leaned back against the wall of the bed, her legs now under his as she was facing the opposite of him. Her expression was now directly into the camera. She was almost sitting along his lap from behind, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he angled his dick, pushing it deep back into her, his fist collecting hair as he pulled her back onto him with that leverage, fierce and quick.
Her eyes were to the back of her head, his own expression looking dark as he now held her body against his own from the new angle. His hands would grip her waist, pulling her down onto him as he’d groaned out, his chest rising and falling in heavier huffs as his breath wafted around her shoulder, “Look at you, baby. All pretty and ruined, crying and whining for me. Gonna make you think about me all the time.”
His breath would waft against her skin as he muttered out a low groan, hips meeting hers with powerful thrusts. She was back to crying again, mascara running down her face as her mouth parted open at his thrusts, shocked moans jutting out from her lips, fists tightening along the sheets as she arched her back for him, the angle taking him deeper than before. She was in hell.
“Can’t, Suguru…” she cried out, gasping as she whined, makeup ruined as pleasure raptured along her body. He didn’t stop, continuously pulling her back, her eyes going down as she could only stare at herself in the camera.
“You can, doll,” He’d groan. He then sat himself up, one foot along the bed as he twisted her hair tighter within his hold, tongue running along the skin of her back before biting down on the flesh. His mouth would continue sucking at her skin as he’d groan again, his breath wafting to her ear as he snatched her back, “You don’t have a fuckin’ choice.”
“Babyyyy…” she whined out, looking back at him as he slammed her down onto his hips, crying in insanity for him. She dug her hands into the bed, trying to keep up with him, her mascara ridden face unable to look at her own expression.
His hand would grip tightly onto her hair, holding her in place as he spoke deeply, “Say you like it, doll.”
“I love it. I love it so fuckin’ much,” she continuously whined, keeping her eyes on his that were behind her, her face in her shoulder as she groaned out, shuddering cries against him.
He’d groan again, his nails digging into her skin as he pulled her down onto his hips again, his own moving up into hers as he’d moan his own pleasure against her skin.
“That’s my baby,” he’d tell her, his hands pulling at her hair again, trying to keep her facing the camera, “You look so pretty, baby. So pretty.”
At this point, she could only nod her head, agreeing as her voice was lost, crying softly as she gripped the sheets, trying to keep up with him.
“You’re gonna be mine, baby,“ he’d groan out, his breath wafting into her ear as he’d continue to groan, “You’re gonna be obsessed with me. You’re all mine. Say it. Say it, brat.”
Her eyes were rolled back as if she was possessed, babbling out incoherent sounds as she relaxed beneath him, lazily gripping the sheets, hips moving back and forth by his doing. She groaned softly, “I’m gonna be yours. Obsessed with you. Wanna be yours,” she hiccuped, as crazy as it even sounded.
“That’s my girl,“ his breath wafting once again as his body started to shiver from how close he was, his grip on her hair tightening again, “Say some more. Keep saying it, baby. Say it for me.”
“Gonna belong to you. Gonna think about you. Always think about this moment,” she bites her lip, sniffling as she grunts, “Gonna think about how you handled me. Never gonna forget it,” she promises, voice soft, meaning every word.
He kept his pace going, listening to her words before pulling her head up to kiss at the skin of her shoulder, a grunt of frustration and need as he replied, “Yeah. Look at you,” his hips were starting to stutter. He was close.
“Gonna let me fuck you like this again?” He asks.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she promised, nodding her head fiercely, feeling as her stomach begins to tremble, his breath along her neck from behind. He chuckled at her repetition.
He pushed her back down along the sheets, keeping her in perfect view of the camera, his sculpted body only showing from below as he pulled out of her, slamming in harshly as he spoke, “Say you’ve never had it this good,” pulling her face up, having her expression directly in the camera.
“N—never had it this good, baby. Never fuckin’ will if it isn’t you,” she grits her teeth, becoming more wet as she digs her fingers into the sheets, slamming her hips back to meet his.
“Damn,” he bites his lip, darkly chuckling, “Say that shit again. Promise me you won’t forget.”
“Won’t fucking forget.”
“I’m gonna make you fuckin’ crazy,” he strokes deeper, one hand holding her hair, the other spanking her ass as she swirls her hips, “Yeah, show me all that shit you were doing at the club.”
She bites her lip, laughing sultrily as she does so, slamming her hips down as she whimpers, “Like that?” It makes him grunt, spanking her painfully as he snatches her hips back, “Just like that. You’re gonna love it here.”
“Fuckin’ love it now,” she bites her lip, grinding her hips, whining them around before dropping them back down against his length.
He’d groan at the drop of her hips, his body shivering as his own hips started to tremble more violently, his hand would release her hair to slide along her body, tracing over small tattoos along her spine as he’d groan, “Tell me you love me, baby. Let me hear you say it, doll.”
This. She knew it sounded insane. She’d just met this man, and maybe they were speaking so crazy to one another because of the moment. But he had successfully completed his mission—her soul was within his palms, and she wasn’t getting it back.
He slammed her hips down onto him, her mouth lightly shouting as she said, “Yeah, yeahhh. I love you and your dick so fuckin’ much, Suguru,” gasping deeply from that.
“Say it again,” he groaned, his own body starting to tremble, his own release nearing as those perfect little words came from her gorgeous little mouth, “Say it more, baby. Let me hear you say it, keep saying it…say it until your damn voice breaks, doll.”
Her voice had broken. She cried out, “Love it. Love you. Yes. Yes. Yes,” through every connection of their hips, her orgasm ripping through her body so harshly that she screamed, keeping her eyes down as she did so. He yanked her face up, forcing her to watch herself release, yanking her back until she could feel him in her stomach. She cried, tears pouring along the sheets of the bed.
He’d chuckle, his hands tugging at her hair again as he’d groan out again, her screams bringing him to his climax as well, hips still rocking into hers as a groan escaped his chest, “That’s my girl…say you’re mine…” he’d groan, his eyes watching intensely at her expression in the recording as she’d cry out his name.
“All yours, Suguru…” she sobbed mercilessly, trembling through her orgasm.
He moaned softly as his own release continued, his breath wafting out in heavy huffs before he’d chuckle again, his head falling forward to rest softly on her shoulder, his own body trembling from the aftermath of his release. He’d groan again as he’d speak, his words muttering lowly in her ear, “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”
She panted against him, her body nearly going limp within his arms, his strong hands catching her in an instant. He pulled out from her which made her body tense, twisting her around as he grunted, “Give me your mouth,” pushing his tongue past her lips as he kissed her. She relaxed under his mouth—as usual. She then pulled her face down embarrassingly as she pressed it into his chest, whimpering as she couldn’t look at herself in the camera anymore.
Once he’d finally ridden out his own release, his arms would loop around her, holding her in a protective manner in his lap as he’d pressed light kisses along the skin of her shoulder, mumbling softly, “You did so good, baby.”
She whimpered again at his touch, her body sensitive as she pushed her face farther into his chest, embarrassed to even look at him. He’d chuckle again, his hands massaging comforting circles into her skin as he’d pull her chin over, his thumb lifting her face up so she’d look into his eyes as he’d speak, “Don’t get shy on me now, doll. I was finally getting to look at that pretty face.”
“Don’t be mean,” she muttered, face still within his chest, moving into his shoulder.
He’d chuckle as she’d move to his shoulder, placing light kisses along her hair as he’d speak, “I’m just teasing, baby…but damn, you look so pretty when you whine.”
She smacks his arm, feeling that makes him laugh. She let out a breath as she exhaled, “I wanna shower.”
“I think we could use a shower. Clean up the mess you made. Should’ve had your ass squirting and crying—“
“Do you have a damn off button?” She glares up at him.
His laugh grew louder, his body shaking softly as he’d give a small shrug, “Sorry, pretty. I’m always like this, I can’t help it,” tilting his head slightly as he’d add, “You’re gonna have to get used to it.”
“Seems like it, since I sold my soul to you,” she grumbled.
“Don’t make deals with devils then.”
She narrowed her eyes on him, wondering how much of that statement was actually true. But damn, he was fine. She'd have to figure that out another time.
She rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna go feed Kuromi. Meet me in the shower, dick.”
She ignores his chuckle as he smacks her ass on the way out, “You’re gonna have to put ‘Suguru’—or ‘Big-S’, still optional—on the other cheek next!” Ignoring him as she embarrassingly wraps a towel around her body, speeding out of the room to go to the kitchen. She should’ve finished that damn omelet.
She didn’t even realize her phone was still on the wall, nor the fact that she didn’t have it—but Suguru did. Time passed as they were now in the shower together, Star giggling as he trapped her along the wall, desperately kissing her neck. She turned her head, kissing her newfound quest, handprint pressed along the heat of the shower as she moaned, eyes tightly shutting as he slid back into her from behind.
….She also never noticed as her phone had stopped buzzing. The last text was sent from her, after all.
FROM:
star.
TO:
smalldickbitchassmothafucka.
MESSAGE:
*attachment, 1 video*
stop texting. she’s busy.
196 notes · View notes
idkwhatever580 · 1 day
Text
Breaking up with you
Masterlist
Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader
Prompt: y/n is already having a bad day, what happens when she overhears Natasha and Clint’s conversation?
Warnings: angst but fluff at the end (don’t worry I am incapable of writing a sad ending 😭), swearing, breaking up, mentions of upcoming period, crying
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Y/n’s pov
I wake up feeling clingy today. I don’t even know why it’s just one of those days.
I whine when I realize there is sun seeping in through the windows and onto my face so I flip around to find Natasha but she isn’t there.
I pout and reach for her until I find the end of the bed but no natty
“Natty?”
I mumble still with my morning sleepy voice.
No answer
Of course. She’s probably training. But she usually waits for me to wake up or at least leaves a note
I never did check if she left a note. So I look at both of our bedside tables. Nothing. I check my phone. Nothing. I get up to go to the bathroom. Not even a sticky note on the mirror.
Tragic
Maybe she got called on a last minute mission. No. She’d have someone tell me if she couldn’t tell me herself.
So why isn’t she here? I just want to cuddle with my girlfriend and eat takis.
Ohhhh. I get it now. I’m gonna start my period soon. I always crave takis when I’m about to be on my period. Which is probably also why I’m feeling so clingy.
So I check the time and shrug thinking what’s the worst that can happen if I eat a bag of takis for breakfast?
I grab one of the throw blankets as I pass the living room to the kitchen and walk into the pantry.
I look at my section and find the line of takis that says ‘OFF LIMITS I’LL BITE YOU!’ On its label. And I grab a bag happily knowing that nobody has tried taking them.
Except for Peter. Poor kid. I was actively on my period and he didn’t know since he was new. Ended up with his aunt laughing next to me when he was showing her the bite marks on his arm. She told him that he should have read the label.
I agree. Always listen when someone says they’ll bite you. They probably mean it.
Anyways. I go to the living room and plop down and then I say
“Friday?”
“Yes miss y/l/n?”
“Where is everyone?”
It’s a bit muffled since I’m stuffing my face with takis but Friday is able to understand.
“They are all in a meeting right now”
I furrow my eyebrows and say
“Without me?”
“It seems to be that way yes”
I frown and get up going to the meeting room.
##################
Natasha’s pov
We are having a meeting without y/n and suddenly Friday speaks up
“Miss y/l/n is on her way to the meeting room now. I would advise you hurry.”
We all scramble to change the scenery to make it look like a normal meeting about an upcoming mission.
Y/n walks in and says
“What’s going on guys?”
Wanda invades my brain and says
“Ignore her. Do not say a thing. I’ll handle it”
I nod once. I don’t really need to ignore her, but it fuels the fire I guess.
Wanda speaks up finally
“Oh we’re just having a meeting about our next mission. We decided to let you sleep in since your skill set isn’t required for this one.”
She shrugs her shoulders and says
“Okay. Hi nat”
She smiles and waves before leaving and I don’t say a thing.
Once she’s gone and Friday says that she is not coming back we let our breaths out and tony says
“That was a close one”
##################
Y/n’s pov
I sit back down and start to overthink.
I usually am able to keep my thoughts at bay but today is just not my day. So I get lost in my head.
Why did nat not say anything? She always says something. Always makes an effort to get up and show me some affection. Maybe it’s an off day for her too. Sometimes she doesn’t like to be affectionate and maybe that’s why.
I break myself out of my head when some of the avengers come tumbling into the room.
Nat is not one of them so I say
“Where’d nat go?”
A bunch of them shrug but Wanda says
“I think she might have gone upstairs.”
I nod my head and say in a slightly more hushed tone just to Wanda
“Did she seem off?”
Wanda shakes her head and says
“No? Why?”
I say
“Oh”
And shrug my shoulders and pick myself up
“No reason. Just wondering. Thanks!”
So I head upstairs and find Natasha in our room. She’s sitting on the bed and reading a book.
“Hey baby! You didn’t leave a note telling me where you were”
I fake pout at her and she doesn’t do anything just mumbles a quick apology.
I try to get a conversation going.
“No it’s okay baby. I just got a little lonely for a sec.”
She ignores me but I can’t catch a signal so I keep trying.
“What are we doing today?”
She just ignores me again and I sigh and say
“I guess that book is real good. I’ll leave you to it. I think I left my takis in the living room anyways. So I’ll be down there probably on my phone if you need me. I love you”
She doesn’t even say I love you back to me.
Alright. Im a bit hurt by that one. But nevertheless I do what I said I would.
I finished my bag of takis a while ago and I’m falling asleep on this couch. It’s definitely not as comfortable as nats arms but she probably needs space. Maybe the meeting made her have a few flashbacks or something.
Whatever it is I’ll give her enough space to process it.
My thoughts are cut off when the sweet escape of sleep overtakes me.
I wake up about an hour later and find that someone had put a blanket over me while I was out. Thanks.
I get up and go to our room hoping nat is ready to talk now. But she’s not there when I get there so I go in search of her.
After a while I find her in Clint’s room but I don’t go in. They’re talking and for some reason I get the urge to eavesdrop. So I do.
“Well you have to say something. You can’t just be leading her on. It’ll hurt her worse.”
“I don’t know Clint”
“Nat. I think you should just tell her”
Wait. Are they talking about me?
“How am I even supposed to go about that? I mean. It’s gonna be so awkward! Not to mention it’ll break the poor girl’s heart”
“Well sometimes you have to do things that aren’t comfortable for you.”
“Okay so I have to go and tell this girl who is head over heels for me that I’m not?! I mean. It’s so obvious right?”
“It is pretty obvious that you don’t like her”
“Yeah well she’s clearly not catching any signs. She’s really naive and besides, I’m literally-”
Fuck this shit.
I walk back to our room to get away from it all.
I can’t even handle this right now. My own girlfriend isn’t in love with me anymore. Of course.
Just when I think she’s in it with me forever. She doesn’t even like me.
And I’m so stupid to not notice that she was feeling this way. I’m probably holding her back.
This is bullshit. Why today? Why me?
I sulk in my room for a while and then I realize that I should surprise her and break up with her first. It’ll make it easier anyways.
I huff and decide to finally get dressed. I probably shouldn’t break up with her in my stitch pajamas.
So I change into some decent clothes and make sure I look presentable. Then I once again go in search of my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.
This time I find her in the living room. I stand tall and say
“Natasha”
She ignores me. Fucking bitch. At least get the balls to break up with me. I’m having to do it for you.
“Natalia”
I use her name and she looks at me. Her face is still but I know she’s listening.
“May I have a word with you? Alone”
I emphasize the alone part and she nods her head softly. We walk in silence to our room and I close the door behind me.
We stare at each other for a second when she breaks the silence
“You wanted to tell me something? Is everything alright?”
I cross my arms and say
“No everything is not alright. I just want to say a few things and then I’ll be on my way.”
She nods her head and quirks a brow. I know she notices my standoffish behavior.
“I’m breaking up with you”
I tell it to her blunt. And her face goes through so many emotions before she’s able to say
“What?!”
I look at her and say
“You heard me”
She shakes her head to break out of her thoughts and she says
“Yes I heard you but you can’t be serious right?”
I narrow my eyes at her and give her a nasty look and say
“What? Didn’t see it coming?”
She shakes her head and says
“Wha- wh- why?”
I roll my eyes and say
“You act like you didn’t want this in the first place. There’s a few things you should know. Im not naive. I’m not oblivious. And I’m not your girlfriend. Don’t worry. I made it easy for you now you don’t have to break my heart.”
She tears up and before she can make her case I walk out. I don’t want to hear it.
And I’m about to break down. So I quickly walk to Wanda’s room and storm in.
She stands up quickly and vision, who was sitting on the bed with her watching sitcoms, makes a speedy exit upon seeing my state.
“What’s wrong?”
I sniffle and try to hold back my tears and I say
“I broke up with Natasha”
“WHAT?!”
I start completely sobbing by now. Wanda picks me up and carries me into her bed and she comforts me until I can speak in full sentences again.
“Okay what happened? I thought she was your endgame”
I nod and say
“She was. Until I heard her talking to Clint earlier”
She furrows her eyebrows and says
“What did you hear?”
I tell her about the conversation I overheard and she squints analyzing my retelling.
“Is it okay if I call Clint in here? It sounds like you didn’t get the full story and I want to hear another side to it”
I shrug my shoulders and nod my head so Wanda texts him. After a few minutes he comes in with an angry face and a wet patch on his shoulder.
Great. Natasha’s already gotten to him.
“Why would you do that y/n?!”
Wanda cuts him off and says
“Hold on Clint. Before we get to that we need to hear something from you okay? So calm down”
Wanda explains to him what I’ve told and he sighs. Then he starts chuckling softly and then full on laughing and I frown and say
“What’s so funny!?”
He shakes his head and says
“Y/n. Natasha wasn’t talking to me about you. She was talking to me about Reese. The new intern. She’s been all over Natasha recently and cannot pick up any signs. If you had stayed a second later you would have heard Natasha say ‘and besides. I’m literally in love with y/n’ and none of this would have happened.”
I look down a little embarrassed.
“I guess sometimes I get a little bit angry. I didn’t even think.”
He nods his head and pats my shoulder and says
“I think you should go and fix this.”
I nod my head and go to his room where Natasha is.
I knock softly and say
“Nat?”
She jumps up and wipes her tears trying to seem strong and says
“Oh. What’s up. Did you need me to get my things?”
I shake my head and say
“I’m so sorry baby. I was eaves dropping on your conversation with Clint earlier and I missed some parts and thought you were talking about me! So I got angry and sad and then I was like ‘well if she’s thinking about doing it to me I’m gonna do it first’ because I was protecting myself from the inevitability of a heart break. I love you so much and I just was scared. I didn’t even think to ask you about it first and I’m sorry I was just being sensitive today and I had no idea! I am so sorry and I compl-”
Natasha cuts off my ramble with a kiss and I obviously kiss back.
We somehow end up half way making out until Clint says
“Hey! Not in my room you fucking horndogs!”
We pull away and giggle and Natasha grabs my hand and pulls me to our room and I say
“I’m sorry”
She shakes her head and says
“Y/n when you said that to me it made my heart split in two. I love you entirely too much to make the mistake of letting you go. I’m sure I would have come after you if it weren’t for my initial shock. I guess I just thought we were so endgame that the thoughts of a breakup would have never crossed my mind.”
I smile and say
“I’m sorry.”
Then all of a sudden I get nervous and play with my hands and look at the ground and she says
“What’s on your mind sweetheart?”
I bite my lip and say
“Since I um. Since I broke up with you like thirty minutes ago will you- um- will you be my girlfriend again?”
She laughs and says
“Yes of course baby”
I smile and say
“Sorry. It felt informal to not ask.”
She cups my face in her hands and says
“Next time let’s talk about it before we go breaking up with each other yes?”
I nod my head and say
“Sorry. I think I’m starting my period soon so I’m kind of having some fog brain.”
She nods her head in understanding and I say
“Now that we’re okay, can I have cuddles?”
She smiles and says
“Yes dorogoy. Of course we can.”
I smile and then say in a teasing tone
“This is actually your fault”
She scoffs as I cuddle next to her and plays along
“How is this my fault?!”
“You didn’t leave a note for me this morning.”
She rolls her eyes and says
“I am sorry baby. I was rushed out of bed and it slipped my mind. I guess it’s because I usually don’t have meetings without you so I forgot”
I nod my head and say
“You forgort”
I giggle a bit and she says
“You and your fricken vocal stims.”
I smile and say
“I think I’m pretty cool”
She smiles and says
“The coolest. Now let me cuddle my girlfriend in peace”
I smile and pull her super close to me. Then push her away as a joke and half way yell
“Leave room for Jesus!”
She rolls her eyes and says
“Come here.”
I get closer and say
“I love you”
She smiles and says
“I love you too”
##################
Taglist
@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346
A/N: sometimes I’ll use the most random things to separate my section 😭
191 notes · View notes
youfck1nyapp3r · 3 days
Text
Truth or dare?. - Chris sturniolo
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Based on this along with this video
Don’t like? Don’t read.
Summary: Chris, Matt, nick, Johnnie, Jake, Tara, sam and colby, Larray, reader/y/n?. All are having a small party all together as you all get to play truth or dare 😏 but you and chris are also dating.
Paring: fem!read + dom!(?)Chris
Warnings: SMUT, alcohol (all over 21 totally), weed, frat boy Chris, oral sex, rough sex?, pet names (mama, slut, good girl, etc.), hair pulling, humiliating, etc.
A/N: smiling Chris🤭🤭 I LOVE THSES😸 NO CHEATING BTWW. Also don’t know if there’s any mistakes cuz I don’t re read🙂
————————————————————
Y/ns pov
All of us sit in the living room on the couch, taking sips and shots while you and Chris smoke a blunt. You inhale the smoke feeling it in your lungs. You pass the blunt to Chris as he’s talking to Matt about how to properly inhale a joint.
“Bro you just suck in like your breathing.” Chris states as everyone is talking to each other. You sit back as your high start to kick in. You look at Chris and chuckle a tiny bit. He looks at you and smiles. Your eyes feel a bit more droopy than they did before.
Chris passes the joint to Matt and Matt inhales and chokes on it. You and Chris chuckle as he chokes. “You good Matt?” Nick asks with concern. “M’ fine” as he chokes.
A little while well.. like 2 minutes later more like, Matt starts to giggle. You and Chris look over at Matt giggling while staring at the roof. “I’m scared!” Matt screams and curls into a ball as everyone starts to stare at him. “Are you okay…?” You ask.
“FINE!” He yells back. Your eyes go wide as he shouts at you. “We should play truth or dare.” Larray speaks up. Everyone agrees to play truth or dare. “I’ll go first.” Larray says.
“Tara truth or dare?” “Dare.” Tara smirks. “I dare you and y/n to peck on the lips.” Larray says as he smirks. You look over at Chris and he look you and rolls his eyes in a joking sassy way.
Tara walks up to you and leans in giving you a small peck. Chris pulls you into his lap. “Your turn tara” Larray speaks. “Johnnie truth or dare?” “Dare” Johnnie stares at Tara.
“I dare you to kiss Jake like how you did on my birthday” Tara speaks with sas. Johnnie’s and Jake’s jaw drop. Johnnie sighs and stares at Jake and pecks him fastly. Everyone starts laughing.
Johnnie asks “Jake truth or dare?” “Truth” “is it true that your penis is a shrek ear?” Jake laughs. “Yes very much.” He says with sarcasm as everyone laughs. You dig your face into Chris’s neck. He starts to kiss you, slowly making out.
“Nick truth or dare.” Jake speaks. Nicks eyes go wide. “uh dare..” nick speaks with nervousness. “I dare you too give Matt a big hol hug” Jake speaks as he smiles knowing nick doesn’t really like big hugs.
Nick sighs and gets up and hugs Matt and Matt hugs tightly. Nick sits back down and turns towards you and Chris. “Y/n” nick smirks. “Truth or dare.” You pull back from the makeup sesh you and Chris just had. “Dare.” “I dare you to make at least 3 hickeys on Chris’s neck.” Nick speaks with a devilish stare.
You lean into Chris’s neck, kissing all around so you can find his sweet spot. He groans when you kiss a certain spot and you start sucking on his neck as Chris has his head up squeezing his eyes shut. You pull back with a pop and see a dark purple hickey start to form in.
You smirk and start to suck in another spot sliding your tongue against his neck making him groan out loud. He looks the other way at the wall where no body is. You pull back with a pop and find another spot and start to suck one last time.
You start to feel Chris grow a boner in between your thighs. You bite down a bit so it’s not enough to hurt him. You pull back with a pop and now he has three big purple hickeys on his neck. He now has very rosy cheeks.
Everyone stares with shock. We stare back with embarrassment. “uh… sam truth or dare…” you speak up. “dare…” “I dare you to try to do a perfect cartwheel” sam sighs and stands up and does a perfect cartwheel first time.
Your eyes widen with surprise. “Truth or dare colby.” Colby sighs. “Dare..” “I dare you to tell everyone here your body count if you don’t want to it give Jake a lap dance.”
“Yeah give mama bear a lap dance” Jake jokes around. Colby sighs and stands up and walks over to Jake and starts giving Jake a lap dance. “Yeahhhh!” Jake yells as everyone giggles. You turn to Chris as he whispers in your ear “y/n it hurts badly… please..” he begs “go to the bathroom and I’ll follow you.” You tell him.
He gets up and walks to the bathroom as you follow him. “Ohhh Chris is going to go bone y/n!!” Larray yells. You roll my eyes and go into the bathroom with Chris.
He closes to door and pins you against it, kissing you roughly. He tugs on your shirt signalling you to take your shirt off. You peel the shirt off your body revealing your dark blue lace bra. His eyes widen at your breasts sitting down nicely. He picks you up and sits you on the sink with the counter.
He pulls your sweat pants down revealing your dark blue lace panties “matching huh?” He smiles. He peels your panties off, seeing how wet you are. “Fuck y/n…” he groans quietly. “So fucking wet.” He groans again while making circle motions on my soaking clit.
You bite your lip to keep control of not being too loud. He burys his face in between your thighs. His tongue ficks on your clit. You let a soft moan out with biting your lip almost drawing blood. He goes more down and sticks his tongue in your hole, making his nose bump your clit each time. You let a moan go but not to loud…. You hope.
“Fuck Chris..” you moan try to moan quietly. He groans at the sound of you moaning his name. You grind your hips into his face. He starts to suck on your aching clit and sticks his two fingers in you, his middle and ring. He curls them inside of you directly hitting your g spot.
You squeal quite loud and him hitting your g spot. He slaps his hand over your mouth. He fastens his pace with his fingers making you start to squirm.he holds your thighs down. I poke my tongue at his hand letting him know I’m close.
He hums against your pussy making the knot in your stomach completely snap in half. You cum all over his mouth. He pulls back with your cum dripping off his chin, making him look like a cum zombie. “You taste good mamas.” He compliments. He kisses me and you groan at the taste of your own self in his mouth.
You get up on the sink counter and get on your knees in front of him. He undoes the string on his sweatpants and he throws his pants down with his boxers. His member slaps on his stomach. You look up at him. “You really finished from eating me out?” You say with a whisper. “shut up…”
You run your finger on the slit on his tip with all of the pre cum and cum on his dick. He groans at the feeling. You kitty lick his tip. “don’t fucking tease y/n” he says with frustration. You put your whole mouth of his erect member. You start bobbing your head up and down.
He pushes your head down making you gag along with your nose touching his pelvis. You shake your head around his dick making him groan and grab a fist full of your hair. 
He groans quite loud but not enough for everyone to hear. Probably just for Matt… he shoots his warm cum down my throat. You look up at him and stick your tongue out to show him you swallowed his load. “Good girl..” he whispers. He bends you over the sink and slides his member inside of me with ease. He thrusts inside you like you’re a fuck doll.
Our skin slapping against each other along with the whimpers and moans coming out of our mouths. The music that’s playing is canceling the noise of what’s happening. He pulls your hair back. “Fucking giving me hickeys in front of 8 fucking people huh?” He pounds your pussy like he’s never going to get to again. “Look at yourself in the mirror as your almost fucked dumb you slut.”
“Do it or I’ll stop.” He demands. You look at yourself in the mirror, your tits swinging at each thrust he does. “c-cum!” You manage to spit out. “Cum on my dick you slut.” He tells. You release your cum as it covers his dick with his balls. He continues to thrust as he cums inside your pussy, making your walls be painted white.
He start to thrust again, but this time he’s faster than he was before. “C-Chris! Chris!” You moan. He covers your mouth with his hand. Tears form in your eyes from all the pleasure. His balls slapping against your clit. He slaps your ass making a sharp sting on your ass. You squeeze your eyes shut fast.
He rubs your clit fastly. Your legs start to shake and you release your cum, covering his dick completely now. He cums his one last time. He slowly pulls out to make sure not to overstimulate you too much. He grabs a rag and wets it slowly cleaning you up. “You did so good handling my cock, baby.” He coos. You smile as him and you go to walk and your legs wobble.
“Chris…” you whine. He chuckles at you at the guys fix yourselfs and open the door exiting the bathroom and go back to the living room. He piggybacks you for you to be able to follow him.
You guys sit down exactly where you guys were before and they’re all watching YouTube. “where did you guys go?” Nick asks. “They went to the bathroom and fucked each other.” Larray responds before me and Chris could. Everyone stares at us. “did you guys actually..?” Nick stares in shock. “Try to walk y/n.” Larray smirks at me. “I want to see you walk.” Larray says again as everyone stares.
You look at Chris and he throws his hands up. You sigh and get up to try to walk and you wobble and fall over. “Fucking disgusting!” Nick yells. Chris walks over to you and helps you up and takes you to his room. He lays on the bed with you and you stare at him. “Do you think nick thinks I’m disturbing and disgusting now?” You ask Chris.
He sighs “no, he loves you he just can’t comprehend what we did.” Chris comforts.
Chris smirks. “Truth or dare?” He jokes. “Shut up!” You joke.
Truth.or.dare…?
————————————————————
A/N
HELP ME.. THIS TOOK TWO HOURS TO WRITE. MY FINGERS ARE HURTING. (I’m way too dramatic.)
AND FUCK THE POLL I HAD
127 notes · View notes
try-set-me-on-fire · 2 days
Text
Tagged by @doeeyeseddie and @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Since I haven’t been posting much for tag games lately, here’s significantly more sentences than that from bucktommy acquire a child au. Warning for mentions of past child abuse in Tommy’s family.
Tommy stares down at the dotted line, pen hovering, running the name through his head over and over again and feeling kind of stupid for it. There’s no meaningful difference, at this point, between this last signature and any other of the seemingly dozens of pieces of paper they’ve signed tonight. Nothing really counts until Buck hands it over to the lawyer on his way to work tomorrow. He could sign and then tear the thing up, toss it in the trash. Find someone better to take this on. Take his name out of it, at the very least, hand the kid over to Evan entirely.
Evan, sitting next to him close enough that their knees are pressed tougher, bony, under the table. “What are you thinking?”
Tommy sighs and sets the pen down, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just use… I don’t know, Diaz? I don’t want to give the poor kid my name.”
Buck laughs, just a little, still mostly serious. “I mean, I’m sure Eddie’d say yes if we asked, but- You gave me your name, why’s it a problem now?”
Tommy slides his fingers between Buck’s, surprised as he always is at how well they fit together. “You’re an adult, you can- handle it, carry it. Kinard children have historically been miserable things.”
Evan tilts his head, probably thinking about what Tommy is thinking about: Tommy, beat by his dad who was beat by his dad who was beat by- etc, etc, going back the entire horrible line of them. He’s imagined it before, some medieval peasant kid somewhere, crying into a hay bale or whatever the fuck it is poor folk slept on back then. Evan’d probably know. Maybe farther back than that. A caveman all the other cavemen side-eyed ‘cause he threw his kid in the path of a sabertooth or something.
“Okay,” is what Evan says. “I could get all pop psychology about, like, breaking cycles or whatever, but actually-” he points down the hall. “When I put him to bed tonight he talked literally right up until he was unconscious about all the stuff we saw at the zoo today, that I was in fact there for. Passed out mid word about how we got ice cream and saw a bird. Just a regular bird, that pigeon that landed on the table next to us. I think he was as excited about that as he was about, like, actual lions.”
Tommy laughs, despite his mood. “He was excited about the pigeon.” Milo had been so fascinated by it his ice cream had mostly melted by the time they could successfully prompt him to eat it.
Buck grins. “That kid- our kid- is happy, Tommy. Another talking point? How you carried him everywhere. He got to be so tall, he said you showed him everything.”
“I always hated being too short to see past crowds of people,” Tommy says quietly. “All those legs, everybody strangers.”
“I think most kids hate that,” Buck nods. He leans in to kiss Tommy’s cheek. “You’re not having second thoughts about this?”
“No,” Tommy says, immediate, breathy like it got punched out of him. “No. More than sure.”
Evan nods again. “He’s happy, and safe, and loved because of you. Sign the paper. It’s just a name, and one that I like very much actually.”
“Just a name,” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “So you would’ve been fine with him becoming a Buckley if we had done this the other way?”
“Oh, fuck no,” Buck says, face twisting up lemon-sour as Tommy laughs.
“You hypocrite.”
“Hey, you should have come up with a new name when you married me,” Buck sticks his tongue out, leaning back in his chair like a pleased cat. “Combined them maybe? We could have been… the Binards?”
Tommy squints at him. “No.”
“The Kuckleys?”
“Evan,” Tommy snorts. “No- that’s terrible.”
Buck grins. “Yeah. We really should have just asked Eddie. All be Diazes, it’d fix everything.”
“Imagine the kid’s family tree project at school,” Tommy says, picking up the pen, signing his name as fast as he can before doubt creeps back in. “We’re gonna have to teach him the words ‘non-conventional family structure’.”
Buck laughs and laughs, leaning into Tommy’s side until he kisses up the sound.
Tagging @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @iinryer @chronicowboy @butchdiaz @homerforsure if ya got anything to share!
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tsukimefuku · 1 day
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4 a.m. ☾ nanami kento
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summary: nanami is your ex and calls you just before dawn to hear your voice. wc: 1.5k cw: gender neutral reader. very much angst. this takes place the night before the shibuya incident. notes etc.: song is 4 am, by taeko onuki.
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lord, give me one more chance ☾ is this the last one, I wonder?
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“Nanami?”
Your phone’s ringing would’ve jolted you awake from your dreams — that is, if you had been able to sleep. The life of a sorcerer was plagued by nightmares, it seemed, and you made sure to sleep as little as possible to achieve dreamless nights during most of the week. 
“Yes, this is me.”
Definitely his voice, alright.
It was 4:00 AM, and you feared for a moment when his name lit up on your phone’s screen that you were receiving that dreaded witching hour phone call.
However, this was considerably more unexpected, given that he was the one to break things up with you years ago and never contact you again. 
“Are you okay? Has something happened?” you tried your best to keep your voice from cracking, an awkward pit of... something gnawing at your chest. 
The silence reigned solemnly for a few seconds, only muted breath coming from the other side. 
“Nanami?” 
“I just...”
You knew his voice. He was definitely inebriated. The way his syllables were breathier and dragged over the tone was unmistakable. 
“Nanami... what is it?” your voice came labored with a sigh, part in concern, part in discomfort.
“I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry if I awoke you.” 
“You know very well you haven’t,” you replied, half in jest, trying to ease the mood. It had been a minute since you two last spoke — since he had broken up with you, “but...”
Your words died on their way out. 
“I... I apologize, I shouldn’t have bothered you,” Nanami said on the other end, more for his benefit than yours, seemingly coming to terms with whatever entity had taken hold of him, guiding his fingers towards his phone and dialing you up. 
“It’s fine, it’s okay,” you offered, uncertain, “it’s... nice hearing your voice. It’s been a while.”
You lifted yourself from your sofa, picked up the glass of red you had resting on the coffee table, and made your way towards your apartment’s window, being met by Kyoto’s nightscape.
You heard him sigh, a sound heavier than you would have expected from Nanami, and his uneasiness was palpable, even through the phone. 
“You didn’t think this through, did you?” you playfully inquired, knowing full well that if Nanami did think this through, he would've stopped himself from reaching his phone. 
“I did not,” he offered in earnest, and you couldn’t help but wonder where he was right now. Was he at home? Sitting by his table still in his work attire? Laying on his bed in a t-shirt and sweatpants? 
You wanted to ask, but held your tongue as quickly as the thought came.
That wasn’t how it worked for you two, not anymore. 
“How have you been? Are you alright?” you genuinely asked. You truly, really wanted to know how your unwavering man — “your” solely in dreams from the past — was doing. Was he fine? Did he leave Jujutsu High again? What had he been up to? 
The aching desire to peek into a life you weren’t entitled to anymore was enticing, even if a painful reminder of the door that had been permanently shut. 
“Still pushing the same boulder uphill everyday,” he replied, and you heard some icy, glassy clacks on the other side, followed by a sip sound. 
He was drinking. Probably a glass of whiskey with the same exact three ice cubes he always put in it.
“Is the hill getting taller and the valley deeper, too?” you asked him, a distinct smile to your voice.
He huffed, amused. 
“One could say so.” 
“Nanami-“ 
“Kento,” he cooed in the same husky, deep voice he used to caress your skin every time he whispered to you something in a crowd, leaning against you in a way only a lover would, or when he undid you just to build you up back up over and over every night you spent together.
The voice he would only use to love you.
It hurt. 
“Nanami...” you repeated in the same beat, the concern and warning in your voice mingling around the uneasiness that now clenched at your chest, too. 
“Just... for tonight. Please.”
He rarely asked you for anything, and whenever he did, you caved.
Just like you caved at that very instant. 
“Fine.” 
“Thank you.” 
You exhaled, trying to ease the forceful flattening sensation tying around your lungs. 
“Kento, why are you calling me now? I mean, we have been broken up for so long... after you broke up with me.” 
Some of your last words came out with a tinge of bitterness, and even through the phone, you somehow knew he’d be looking away after you said that.
“I... I really just wanted to hear your voice. And if there is nothing to be said, I’d like to stay on the line with you for a while, even if in silence. I... I want... I want to share this quietude now with you,” he offered, an explanation of sorts, but not enough.
This was the issue — nothing was neat, calculated, mathematical enough for him. Waiting for the precise moment, life had passed you both by. 
“Why? Why did you... break up with me? For real?” you asked, fully aware this might be the last time you spoke to Nanami for a long while, if ever. 
He inhaled on the other side, as if picking apart his words to answer you with the perfect building blocks to fit the hole he knew he’d left behind. 
“This life, our life... is not suited for romantic relationships. I couldn’t bring myself to step out the door and do what I do — what we do — knowing I could leave someone at the wake of my demise any day. In this life, we should die alone.” 
You sighed and sipped on your wine, leaning against the edge of your dinner table.
“Don’t preach to the choir, Kento. I know how this gig goes, but I think you’re lying to both of us right now.” 
“I... I don’t know,” he remarked. His voice sounded lost, strained, decades older than himself, and he pleaded for a light, if you could ever so kindly offer him one.
“I think...” you began, trying to be as unfiltered as possible, “you ran away from me, just as you ran away from Jujutsu High years ago. You were afraid just the same. Somehow, you surpassed the fear of dying any day on the job, but are still to surpass the fear of risking loss again, of lov-“
You bit your tongue before finishing your sentence, but he noticed it. 
“Please, continue. The fear of what?”
He knew. 
“Of loving.”
Nanami kept silent for a while, the only telltale sign the call hadn’t ended being the sound of his drink’s ice cubes clinking against the rim of his glass.
His voice came back, a deep, husky tone cutting through the silence like a silk thread. 
“I want to see you.” 
“Kento, you’re drunk.” 
“Yes. And I want to see you, I have thought about it for a long time, and I believe you have too, just the same.”
He was right. Oftentimes, in the silent hours of the night, after the thud from your shoes falling in the entryway subsided leaving a void of sound behind, you missed his warmth, his arms wrapped around your waist, the feeling of his body pressing against your back. There had been others, but no one could compare to him — to Nanami.
How many others there had been for him? Had they measured up to you?
You shoved the thought away, trying to not dwell on it for too long. 
“I have,” you answered honestly. 
“We could try again. We could...” 
“Kento...” you cooed, realizing this was the same voice you’d use whenever you purred at him when you were enveloped under the covers, sharing your own tiny private sliver of the universe. 
“Please...” his tone came strained, pained in response to how you called his name — the way only his lover ever did. You. 
“It’s 4:00 in the morning, we... let’s talk this over dinner. We have the time. Moving around tomorrow will be terrible because of Halloween, but we could... after tomorrow?”
You felt the faintest hint of butterflies around your chest, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Not with anyone else but him.
He sighed on the other side, equal parts intrepid and relieved. 
“Okay. I’ll come to Kyoto after tomorrow so that we can have this conversation properly. In person.”
You tried to exhale away your own disquiet, quivering in anticipation for seeing Nanami again after so many years. 
“It’s a date, then.”
He huffed the faintest chuckle. 
“It is.”
You clicked the big red button on your phone’s screen, and the call ended.
End notes:
You already know... Had The Big Sad™️ and decided to turn it into everybody else’s problem. This is an adaptation of a HiguNana piece I posted on AO3 (but if you want to read the fic like reader is Hiromi, I won’t try to stop you 👀).
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wzrd-wheezes · 1 day
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Coffee, Cake and a Gossip - James Potter x Reader
AN - this is entirely based off of a scenario where my boyfriend took me for coffee and cake so we could gossip.
warnings: mentions of alcohol briefly but that’s about it. james potter loving a gossip
Y/N pushed the scrambled eggs around with her fork as she spoke, her eyes trained on the fading pattern of the plate as the words tumbled out of her mouth.
“-And it’s just like, I don’t know, I don’t know how many more times I have to tell her before it gets through.” she huffed, setting her fork down with a clatter, “I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to hear me moaning about my friend drama again.”
James laughed, taking a slurp of coffee from his mug, “You’re not moaning, my love.” he smiled, “You’re just venting and, in the nicest way possible, I am loving the drama.”
Y/N chuckled, looking up for the first time in a good few minutes. James was sat, patient as ever, staring lovingly at her as she recounted the events from the previous night.
“Yeah, I know but it must be getting old now,” she smiled weakly, standing up. She crossed the kitchen to scrape her plate clean before setting it in the sink.
Light on his feet, James appeared behind her, his big arms wrapping around her shoulders, his chin resting on the top of her head. He pressed a kiss to her temple, one hand sliding down to rest on her waist. He pushed the fabric of her pyjama top upwards, forever a fiend for skin on skin contact.
“I have an idea.” he mumbled into her hair.
“Yeah?” Y/N hummed in response, sudsing up the sponge and beginning to wash the pots from that morning’s breakfast.
“How about we go and get ready, then we can drive to a cute little cafe somewhere and we can go for coffee, cake and a gossip.” he spun her around so that she was facing him, taking her soapy hands in his, “Then, you can tell me all about your friend drama because, to be honest, ever since you went out with them last night I’ve been dying to hear about what happened.”
“Really?” Y/N slipped her hands from his and wiped them dry on a tea towel that was tucked into a drawer, “You’re sure that you actually-”
“Baby. I cannot explain to you how much I would love to hear it. Besides, I’m a sucker for a little sweet treat.” He grinned, “Why don’t you go and get ready and I’ll finish cleaning up down here, yeah?”
James drove them to a café on the outskirts of their town. It was a quiet little place where sunlight streamed in through the windows and the walls were adorned with quirky paintings. Y/N went to find a table while James ordered. She found them a spot tucked away in the corner, two overstuffed armchairs and a small table between them.
Their coffee was served in mismatched mugs, steam rising from the surface as James set them down on the scrubbed wooden table. He disappeared for a moment and returned with two large slices of cake.
“I didn’t know which to get so I just got a slice of each and thought we could share.” he explained, hacking into a slice with his fork.
“Good thinking.” Y/N smiled, picking up the hot mug and clasping it in her hands.
“Okay. Coffee and sweet treats acquired… time to gossip.” he wiped the crumbs from his lips and turned to face her properly, giving her his full attention.
“So, obviously I haven’t seen the girls for a while, y’know, with us all working and whatnot,” Y/N began. She picked up a sugar cube from the bowl and dropped into into her coffee with a plop, “And I thought it would be nice for us all to go for a drink somewhere so I booked us in at this cute little wine bar in town.”
“Ooh, was it good? We should go there next date night.”
“It was so good! We get there and we all get our drinks and one of the girls says that Alice is running late and I’m like, ‘okay no worries’,” she stopped for a moment to take a bite of cake before continuing, “And you’ll never guess what…!”
“What?” James leaned forward in anticipation, his elbows resting on his knees.
“She turns up an hour late with Jackson.”
“She never!” James gasped, “But it was girls night!?”
“I know!” Y/N huffed. She swilled the coffee around in her mug before taking a swig.
“Wait.” James held a finger up, “Wasn’t Jackson the one that cheated on her?”
“Yes!”
“Wow.” James let out a bemused laugh, “No wonder you’re annoyed.”
“It’s just so frustrating.” Y/N sighed through a mouthful of spongecake, “No matter how many times we tell her he’s a piece of shit she won’t listen.”
“Well, not everyone can have boyfriends as lovely as yours.” James teased, slipping the last bite of cake onto her plate.
“Very true.”
“So, what did you say to her when Jackson turned up?”. he pressed, his eyes twinkling.
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undercoverpena · 9 hours
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15. raspberry truffle
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter fifteen of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3.1k chapter warnings: smut. 18+. jo's mirror love resurfaces and armchairs are used as more than things sat behind desks. lots of mouth to mouth resus. smut. also there's smut. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: I've had this image in my head for so long...
prev chapter | series masterlist
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“Do you trust me?”
It's a simple question. One he’s asked you time and time before, but never with the current look in his eye he’s currently wearing.
Dressed in a tight grey tee and a pair of black sweats. Hatless, teased curls frame his face as you rest against your counter. The one you’ve seen for the first time in some days.
It strikes you that the only reason you're standing in your home, to begin with, is because of the email informing you that some of your new furniture had been dispatched.
His mouth had been sealed to your neck, fingers grasping at your waist as you read it out, distracted, attention not entirely focused on him until his hand snaked between your legs, in his sheets, in his bed—the one you’d now found to be far more comfortable than your own—as he whispered, I can build it for you.
And, he did. Had done.
Putting his tool on the side as he rejoins you. A nominal irk bubbling through you that the toolbox it lives in is one foot away, it vanishing when he steps closer, presses you further against it. Cool, firmness meets your spine as his body corners you.
He looms in a way that makes your heart double as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. Deeply.
“Should I trust you, handsome?”
Snorting, his laugh fluttering over your lips. “I think you should.”
Lips pursing, narrowing your eyes teasingly, you feel his thumb sliding the fabric of your top up and down your hip bone.
“You are biased though.” His head lolls from side to side as he hums, fingers pinching at the bottom of your top. “Do you think I should because you built my chair?”
As soon as he slides his arm around your waist, your back arches. Chest desperate to be flush. Heart aching to be near to his.
“No. Because you love me.”
Sighing, nodding—all playful. A smirk just there, all beneath the surface. “Oh. That thing.”
Tracing his nose against yours, a smile trying to beam, but he mirrors how you hold back. “That thing.”
When he’s close like this, it’s almost criminal when you’re not kissing him. When you’ve not slanted your mouth against his soft lips, felt the roughness of the hair on his face against your palm, buried your fingers into his curls and pulled a little to earn that groan he does. The one, if it were a thing that could be possible, you’d love etched into your brain.
The thought of which makes you want to peel your clothes off.
Already so hungry for a thing you’ve been feasting at a buffet for the last number of days. Yet, still wanting, still needing.
“You really play a long game,” you say, more sweet. And his nose scrunches, frowning as you smirk. “Waiting this long, getting me to fall in love with you, and then killing me in my own office.”
“Oh yeah, I’m a mastermind.”
Laughing, you twirl a curl around your finger, finding the hair a little longer. “Okay,” you reply, sealing it to his lips, “I trust you—you get my blood on my new chair you’ve just built, I’m going to haunt you.”
“It’s not a punishment that you’d want to spend the rest of your days haunting me, Rainy.”
His hips dip, becoming aware of the effect you have on him too as his growing bulge rubs against your parted thighs. A moan escapes, body jolting at the welcome friction. The sound leaves so softly, barely loud enough to disrupt his mouth from being on yours.
But it does.
“Do you trust me?”
The four words repeated, answered hurriedly. No game, no tease.
His mouth comes close to your ear, a chaste kiss left along your hairline as his hand clutches your waist for stability, and you forget how to breathe.
“Close your eyes, baby.”
As you do, his fingers, clean and soft, all but sawdust stained, slide over your eyes—his chest to your back as he leads you down a familiar path that suddenly feels foreign. Trusting.
Your nose tunes in. Takes in the scent that is equivocally just him, one you’re thankful has begun seeping into your home as much as he has your heart. Hearing him whisper instructions, watch this, be careful, until you're body is shifted on its axis.
His fingers slide from your vision, allowing you to blink, see him, smiling at the sight of him.
“Fuck you’re handsome.”
Backing you up against the newly painted office wall, your arm hooks around his neck again, mouth ghosting over his as a hand hovers over your hip.
“Still trust me?”
Nodding, you feel his breath on your parted lips, before he slides his mouth over yours. Searing. Burning—all determined as his tongue slides past your teeth and his fingers slide up your neck, tracing your jaw. It makes you delirious. Dizzy. Thoughts nothing but lost to you until you glance past him and see it.
The built chair, in the nearly decorated office. The desk it should be behind is still a week out, but the chair, mirror and plants are all set up—the shelves adorned with bits you have for now.
“Hey?” he says, eyes snapping back to him.
Spotting the bubbling molten in his eyes, remembering how your body is aflame—
Then the next question comes. “Can I taste you, baby?”
Nodding, you whisper your answer into the air as he leads you, guides you all over again, moving you closer and more towards your new chair. Mouth latching itself to yours, palms on either side of your cheeks, before his hand steals the cushion, and throws it down.
“You look so beautiful, baby,” he whispers, trailing the words down your neck, along your collarbone.
It makes a gasp flutter from your lips, feeling your insides knot, likely dampening the fabric between your thighs, making nothing short of a mess—
“Gonna take these off, okay?”
Your tongue thickens in your head, swallowing a whimper at the feel of his thumbs hooking inside your shorts and slipping them down your thighs. The fabric skims, sliding, before they fall with a soft thud and he's guiding you to sit down in the armchair.
Taking a breath, you stare, captivated. Frankie sinking, kneeling before you on the cushion. “Part your legs for me.”
“Shit, Frankie.”
“Baby.”
Swallowing, you do. Then, it’s delicate, soft.
The gentlest of kisses up the inside of your thighs. Aware of the heat of his fingers pushing your knees further into the arms of the armchair, tuned into the way he exhales through his nose, cool air teasing over your already slick, cloth-covered pussy—the chair groaning when you buck your hips.
“Rainy.”
He grunts it. Low—warningly. It comes from a place in the back of his throat, grating and gravelly as he stares up at you. Nothing but brown dipped in more brown holding your gaze. Usually, it would make you smirk, but instead, you mumble an apology.
One that trails off; turns into a whine when he drags his tongue over the already-drenched fabric.
You’re not sure how it’s possible but you moan like you’ve been teased for hours. Sure that with a few more, you could be close—
“I want you to look in that mirror, and see how beautiful you look as I do this.”
“Frankie, I…”
His hand slides up, right between your still-covered breasts, before cupping your cheek, thumb under your jaw, eyes searching, sweeping and locating. “Look for me.”
Flicking your eyes to it, the ornate thing you’d not been sure you wanted until he’d slid his arms around your waist. Buried his face into your neck. Told you it was nice.
You’d agreed then, you most definitely did. Nodding, letting a little whispered okay escape as he nods. Staring, trying not to pick apart what you see in the reflection. The way your eyes look tired, skin not as bright as it normally would be. That is until he nips at your skin. Pulls your gaze from your own to the back of his head.
“Beautiful—”
“Frankie,” you sigh.
Hand coming over your face, heat blooming in your cheeks as you feel him kiss your inner knee. Thumb stroking at your skin, circling, before he taps. A silent request, a reminder: look at yourself.
You do.
“You are so beautiful, Rainy.” He dips his head—becoming aware of the finger sliding in the gusset of your plainest underwear, dragging the fabric, pulling it from your soaked core all the way to the side.
“I thought it when I first saw you.”
Air blowing across your core, before he places the most delicate, softest kiss against your swollen clit.
“Think it now, seeing you sat in your new chair, in your new office.”
You feel your chest heave, see it. Staring at the way the muscles strain in your neck from not moving, before he drags a long, slow stripe up from your aching hole to your nerves.
And he groans, low and dull. It vibrates against you before his tongue swipes again, hands pushing your inner thighs apart before he dives again. Sliding his tongue between your folds, licking, drawing.
He’s slow in his movements, measured. Delves as much of himself into you before wet, roaring heat swirls around and encases your clit as his growl sends flames up your spine.
That’s when he slides his fingers in. Curls them. Moves them in slow thrusts.
The whine of his name you let escape is sinful, practically unrecognisable. Your hips moving, unable to tear yourself away from staring at the way your mouth hangs open, panting, moaning, as you rock your hips, fuck yourself on his fingers, on his tongue, as you hope his other hand on your hip will leave a mark. Half moons or bruises, or even fucking both—
“Frankie, please.”
The angle of the mirror not only allows you to see the sight of him taking you apart, but how the act seemingly undoes him. How his shirt is stretched across his shoulder blades, how his muscles ripple under the thin fabric as you hold on to every thread as the pads of his fingers curl more into you. All come hither, beckoning the incoming wave you know is going to wash over the two of you.
And it turns you on.
“You like it, querida? Like watching yourself.”
“Like watching you.”
And you swear you feel him smirk as your hips lift, desperate for more, eyes speckled with spots as your nails grip the arm of the chair, the other lost and tangled in his curls.
It’s so good, so fucking good.
He’d make you confess, make you tell him everything—no matter the secret, you’re sure he could pull it from you like this. Have you spilling, as though he’s cracking you open, and even helping him translate the parts of you he’s yet to understand or know.
“So perfect squeezing around me, baby. Love how you taste—always taste so fucking good.”
Your back is off the chair, grinding into him, so close you can’t even think, can barely speak.
“Want you to come on my tongue, Rainy. Need you too.”
“Fuck.”
“That’s it. Let yourself feel good, baby. Use me, use—”
And you do.
Fuck. You do.
Your cry echoes and bangs around the walls before slamming into your ears. Legs shaking. Mind sludge as you come down from your high to his soothing touch, to his whispers, to his words that make you feel like you’re in heaven. Not just here, with his shoulders supporting your knees, but all the time.
It’s why you bring his mouth to yours. Messily, all disorientated from the high of him as you taste yourself on his mouth, on his tongue—the tang of what he’d done to you evidenced.
It makes you want, need.
You’re not sure how the two of you made it to the bedroom so cleanly.
His clothes are scattered, left in the hallway; a path that leads from one moment to the other. Your knees were likely bruised from how you dropped to them in the doorway, straddling the hallway and bedroom as you palmed him through his underwear, eyes wide, looking up.
“I love your cock, Frankie.” Hooking a finger in the band, dragging the fabric to his ankles, to the ground. “Like how heavy it feels on my tongue cock.”
Hand slowly wrapping around him, pumping once, twice.
“Fuc...”
His curse isn't able to form when your mouth wraps around him, taking him in your mouth. As much of him as you could. Hearing him groan, grunt—seeing his nostrils flare before his forehead presses into the crease of his elbow as he leans it against the door. His breath stammers, palm cupping the back of your head casually as he tenses, muscles straining, body stiff.
All you can think is you wish this image could be painted, commemorated; hung somewhere for your eyes to see everywhere, every day.
Because he's backlit by the afternoon, shadows cascade from the half-drawn curtains of your room, bicep flexing as you take him down your throat, loosening it as much as you can until the tip of your nose finds itself in his curls.
“So big, Frankie.”
He groans, at the same time as you taste salt, it pooling at the back of your throat. Your eyes flick up to see his jaw slackening, nostrils flaring when your tongue swirls around the tip, hollowing your cheeks, feeling him twitch in your mouth—
“Bed.”
It’s hissed, strangled, as he pulls himself from between your lips and spit trails over your lower lip and chin.
“Now?” you tease.
“Now.”
His hands, all capable and strong, haul you to your feet. Finding a home on your hips, directing and shifting you until you’re on familiar sheets, turned over, stomach flush to your mattress as he trails his mouth down your spine.
“Wanna fuck you.”
“Then fuck me.”
It’s different, the way your bodies come together. The way he swallows your hiss when he bottoms out, stretching around him, fingers clinging and clutching at him.
“Y’too good to me, Frankie.”
“Impossible,” he whispers.
Mouth sliding up over your neck, nose catching on your skin, his hand dips between your bodies—where you’re joined, where you’re full and stretched around him. It’s bliss. Perfection. One you endure so regularly but don’t become used to, each time as taken back by how good it feels to be seated fully inside you as his fingers tease your swollen nerves.
It’s with a smooth thrust do your fingers brush over his face, finding his cheek, mouth and nose, guiding with your eyes closed for his mouth to seal itself over yours. Hips moving, thrusting, meeting him each time as you grow slicker, making a mess of him and the sheets beneath you.
Mouth slotted over his, moaning passed his teeth, hands clutching his cheek, the back of his neck, fingers teasing his curls. “Fuck, Frankie. Fu—“
He grins, you feel it. His hand slides from your slick-covered clit to your hip, along your waist, travelling and travelling until his palm cups your breast—until his finger and thumb are pinching your hardened peak. All the time kissing you, open mouths, breathing one another as his pace quickens. As you feel the early signs of your thighs tremoring, seeking something to grip, to hold on tight—
“Love how you take me.”
You whine. Gasping.
And he’s smooth with it. The way he slides your hand from his cheek and down towards the bed. Hingeing you, making you go down onto all fours as he kisses down your neck, trails his tongue, leaving a searing wet line before he’s under your arm, snaking his mouth over as much skin as he can get.
“Baby—“
“I know,” he grunts, puncturing it with several thrusts. “Feels good, you always feel good.”
Your eyes clench shut, mouth falling open at the angle. At the way it makes your toes curl in nothing. Something tightening, something that makes the corners of your vision blot and darken. It close. Liquid heat forming, swirling in your stomach, in your need and you—
A whine rips from your throat. All stained in disappointment, in loss as he pulls out. Leaves you empty, desperate.
You almost hiss. Throwing your head over your shoulder as you glance back to see him breathing heavily, chest oiled with sweat, hand squeezing himself at the base, a lopsided grin spread into his cheek as his other hand slides over your side. Urging, silently requesting.
“Roll onto your back, Rainy.”
It centres you, roots you when his elbows come down on either side of you.
Warm, hot mouth sliding over your jaw, his hand gripping yours, holding you tight as he teases, slides the tip of his cock through your messy folds, taunting your swollen clit.
“I love you,” he groans, pushing himself in, completely to the hilt, all in one smooth movement.
You swear he's deeper. Always say so until he trails his hand up the side of your leg, lifting them, hooking them over his waist as you wrap them around his back, and dig your ankles into his lower spine.
“Feel so good.”
“You make me feel so good.”
Your chin tips up, feeling him press open-mouth kisses to your throat. Likely feeling the vibrations of your moans against his lips, his tongue.
“Yeah?”
Nodding, rustling your head against the dishevelled sheets as his breath fans over your collarbone, “Only you.”
His pace quickens, snaps his hips to yours, grunting, moaning—the sounds making you clench around him. Chasing your second orgasm, walls fluttering around him as your fingers tighten around his, as he grasps your hip and fucks into you. Spears into you.
“I love you too,” you moan.
“I’m close. So close. Want to feel you, baby. Can you come, baby, come for me—”
Fingers knotting tighter around his, vision spotting, it all pooling, all set to spread.
Then, it snaps, splinters.
You cry out. Body erupting.
Nothing but heat and fire surging through you as you are washed in it. Drowned it. Never wishing to be saved as you go under, as your hearing fades and your eyes blur. Only aware, distantly, of the way your skin tingles as it lights with a blaze.
But, you do catch his guttural groan. The way he stills, paused, as his eyes clench and your name is buried into your ear—feeling him collapse on you.
A weight you love.
His heart hammering against yours, breath strained, difficult as you clutch at him, pulling him closer if that is at all possible. Even if it's just for a moment, before steam fills your bathroom and soap suds slide down both of your skin.
Because it's a weight that makes you smile every time, every day. One you adore. One you never want to not know.
You say as much against his mouth as your lips sloppily meet his, smiling, grinning against his mouth.
I love you.
Love you too, Rainy.
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an: this was almost titled the last smut. (because of the series coming to an end, not because of some unhappy ending)
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mopopshop · 23 hours
Text
Cooling Off
based on this request <-
Summary: Jayla (OC) and Emily do that one water dunk tiktok challenge, example
I’m 99% sure this is the trend that anon was talking about so hope yall enjoy 🤭 and i made an oc for this one too
“Hey y’all! We’re gonna do that water dunking challenge— thingy, I don’t know but we’re gonna see how well we know each other” you say excitedly.
The phone is set up on the counter, Emily’s sat in front of you with a big bowl of water and you’re standing behind her.
“So I’ve got a few questions for Em and vice versa, starting with… um.. what’s my favorite movie?”
Emily squints her eyes, thinking hard. “Uh, The the… hold on hold on!! I know I swear- It’s that um… fuckin one with—“
“Times ticking..” you singsong, smiling 
“Damn, babe you gon’ let me answer??” she teases
“I’m trying! Taking a hell of a long time to do that though”
“I know it!!  It’s that one with that one actress, uh.. Anne? Something?”
“Is that your answer?”
She groans “Yeah no… I don’t remember”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Close, but it’s The Devil Wears Prada” Before she can react, you gently push her head into the water. She comes up spluttering but grinning.
“Okay, okay, I got this next one trust”
“Alright, what are my parents names?
She scoffs “Jay this easy, Brenda and Shawn”
“Okay, okay, I see you Ms. Know-it-all” you say, giving her a kiss on the side of her head. 
Emily laughs back “You already know”
“This my last question, what’s my chipotle order?” you smile
“Oh baby, I know this shit by heart” she chuckles “ brown rice, black beans, chicken, veggies, lettuce, guac, and sour cream” 
You groan “How did you manage to make that so sexy”
Emily bursts into laughter, standing up and switching places so you’re now in front of the bowl, not before giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.
“Now, I’m not ‘boutta make this easy for you Jay”
“I got this, don’t play with me Em” you chuckle confidently
Emily grins, clearly enjoying the game. "Alright, first question: Favorite shoe I own?”
You look back at her with a confused smile “Fuck kinda question is that?”
“A damn good one, that’s what Jay” she defends playfully
You laugh harder and turn towards the camera
again, thinking carefully “Uh.. how am I supposed to know this?”
“If you really loved me you’d know”
“Shut up!” you shove her lightly “I don’t know.. you’re converse?”
“Wrong,” she grins “my Black Cat Jordan 4’s baby!”
“Em, you know I don’t give a fuck about shoes”
“Well you lost so” and before you can retaliate she dunks your head under.
You come up gasping and laughing, ready for the next question.
“Next one: When did I start playing basketball?”
“ … 8? No, no, 9”
“That your final answer?”
“Well now you’re making me feel like that’s the wrong answer” you pout
She throws her hands up in surrender “I’m not, I’m not, just asking” 
“Then yes that’s my final answer”
“Well baby, I love you so much but you had it right the first time, it was 8” she chuckles again before dunking your head in.
You come up huffing and pouting “Imma get one right”
“Last chance, Jay” she smiles “What was my first concert and who did I go with??”
“And who you went with??” you question
She beams, proudly “Yes Ma’am”
“Damn”
“I literally told you this like— the other night”
“Um um.. A Boogie it’s gotta be him”
“Correct about one thing…”
“And you went with… Dani? Sarah? Hailey? It’s gotta be one of them”
“None of them but since you got it half correct I won’t dunk you” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
You shrug, a mischievous grin on your face. “Fair enough. But you have to admit, I know you pretty well.”
Emily leans in, wrapping her arms around your neck, her wet hair brushing against your cheek. “Yeah, you do. And I love you for it.”
As you pull her in for another kiss, the phone’s timer beeps, signaling the end of the challenge. Emily grabs a towel, handing one to you as well.
“That’s it for now, bye people ” Emily says, waving at the camera.
———
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chericherrybaby · 3 days
Text
DO I WANNA KNOW
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Summary, Just Harry having a drunken night and admitting his love for Y/N
~
Harry had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember.
They lived next door to each other as kids, they went to the same secondary school as him and she even went to watch him of x-factor.
Although they were close and always had been, it was very rare that the pair would see each other that often.
Harry was mainly touring, and it the last two years partying a whole lot more compared to what he used too. Y/N was disappointed when he’d text her saying he’s going to a party instead of seeing her, as if he hadn’t promised to see her two days prior.
Half the time Y/N wouldn’t even know where Harry was, she’d count herself lucky to get a text back after two days.
They weren’t really best friends anymore.
So after attending a party near Y/N’s house, She still had his location on after all this, Y/N had a slight hope that he’d change his mind and think she was more important than a party.
After busying herself, situating herself on the sofa, with a blanket and a book that she count quite concentrate on, mind always flowing back to Harry.
A few minutes later, her phone began vibrating on the sofa.
Harry.
Quickly reaching over to grab it, but still waiting a few moments to accept to make it seem like she were busy of course.
“I’m outside your house” Harry muttered, not even letting Y/N breathe down the line before he did so.
Stumbling to the front door, throwing on shoes and a small jacket over her shoulders. Even forgetting to hang up the phone entirely, simply throwing it back on the sofa.
Putting the keys in the lock with shaky hands, what was this so nerve racking? He was only her best friend that never wanted to see her anymore and now was randomly outside her house.
“Does your girlfriend know your here?” Y/N asked Harry, approaching him from outside her house, where he sat slumped on the pavement outside.
“No girlfriend” Harry grumbled, slurring his words slightly “told you 12 times”
Y/N places herself infront of him and holds her hands out for Harry to take, having to put more effort into pulling than he was standing.
She places and arm around his waist tightly and holding his arm that was around his shoulder, helping his slowly trudge his way into her house and up the steps leading to.
She placed him on the couch, him ultimately falling from the lack of self control he had over his body. Placing herself next to him, she sighed and watched his eyes fluttering, trying to keep himself awake.
“I’m sorry Y/N. I always do this to you” His head rolled to the side to look at you.
“You’re okay Har, don’t talk about it right now” She placed her hand on his and began rubbing slow circles on his thumb.
“Too busy being yours to fall for somebody new” He mumbled, just loud enough for Y/N to hear him. The room was dead silent but still he almost went unheard.
“What are you talking about?” Y/N chuckled lightly “i think you’d had shit tons to drink. Thought it was only a house party?”
Harry opened his eyes slowly, squinting as if he had just woken up “It was”
He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, his shallow breathing becoming louder and slight snores escaping every so often.
Y/N was sure he fell asleep, rising slowly to get a blanket, she was tugged back by him.
“Please stay” He slightly whined like a child “I’m so in love with you. I need you to stay”
“Was gonna get you a blanket” Y/N whispered back, voice shaky from the nerves of his confession.
Of course she loved him back. Who wouldn’t? But he was a pop star, had been for half of his life. She was only Y/N, stuck in England with her, well paying, but dead end job that’s she’d been at for ten years.
Harry hummed and mustered up the strength to pull her close, so she was cuddled up into his side “Only need you” He said and his head fell on top of hers.
His exhaustion finally hitting him, as Y/N lay awake imagining what would happen the next morning.
If Harry could even remember the declaration of love.
~
Part Two? Let me know!!
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jakeyt · 1 day
Text
Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)
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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; EMDR (VIVID intro to revisiting traumatic situations); crying + feelings of sadness; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; dangerously high heart rate; implied abusive situations; derogatory verbiage from past abuser; implied drug use; very unsanitary living conditions; visits to safe place; usage of containment strategy * * * revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ continuing to act on them ;)); reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; heavy petting; forgetfulness (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter 11 (Part 2) Word Count: 23.9k+
a/n: i broke my promise, i know. :( i feel absolutely fucking terrible that i made you all wait, but life happens. :'( i wish this story was my main priority/job, but alas...that dream is not a reality. i need you all to know: when i say i'm going to do something, i fully intend on it, but...life (and crippling adhd + anxiety).
i am so incredibly sorry, my lovely readers. :(
also, life update to blame (only if you care to read). BUT, on top of trying to get my house completely cleaned/shit thrown away, i officially had to empty out my classroom (see also: due to toxic work enviro, i had to leave the career i've wanted to live out since i was six y/o). so, i'm currently in the process of completely shifting careers (going from one emotionally taxing career to another, but that is apparently the type of job my heart desires lol).
as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person. <3
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
-🌼🌼🌼-
"I covet truth; beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
-🌼🌼🌼-
Monday
December 12, 2022
“So, any news on the baby since I last saw you?” Gia started, a sure smile on her face that helped ease you. “You had your second appointment on Thursday, right?”
“No,” you shook your head. “Dr. Rose wanted to just wait until closer to Week 18 so we could find out the gender at one session rather than having to wait between week 16 and week 18. Knock everything out at once,” you explained, clearing your throat. Looking around the office, you admired the pieces of floral art littering the walls, as you always did. “We’re going this Friday now.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Gia asked, raising a brow. She was rolling to her desk, getting the (seemingly) last thing she needed for your session today and placing it in her lap. “Not stressed about putting it off?”
“No, actually. I’m not stressed at all,” you acknowledged, sticking your lip out in thought. You hadn’t even thought to be stressed yet. Progress? Sure seemed like it. “It’s strange; the longer time passes, the bigger I get. . . The worries just aren’t as prevalent. It’s like I can feel that the baby is okay.”
“Not strange at all, babe,” Gia reassured with a shake of her head. Her platinum blonde hair was wavy today, framing her angular face perfectly. “Completely normal for new mothers to sort of get used to the pregnancy enough to feel at peace, per se. And I am so proud of you for getting to that point.”
“Well thanks,” you grinned crookedly, trying your best to settle into the worn, camel-colored leather of her sofa. “Can’t say the same for today’s session though. . . I am nervous about it.”
Gia waved it away, showing you a look of ease on her stark features. “No need. You’re the one in control, girly,” she winked, placing both white-sneakered feet on the ground. 
She reached in her desk drawer for the little pouch, the familiar one that you knew held the device you’d be using today. A sudden wave of nerves began to crash over you as she unzipped it, revealing it and the paddles that would be the catalyst in placing your brain. . .elsewhere— somewhere. 
Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?
“Here’s the plan,” she started, wheeling her chair closer to the couch, where you were trying your damnedest to sit comfortably. “We’ll start with your safe place to give you some sense of peace and stability — gotta make sure it’s still fresh and open in your mind.” 
You watched as she turned the knob of the device, the little green light beginning to blink to notate that it’s on. “Then,” she continued, situating the device to look it over before her green eyes settled back on you. “Once you feel comfortable, I’ll tell you to begin walking away. Whatever direction you’d like to go, it’s completely up to you.” 
Gia held the paddles out in front of you, and with clammy, shaky palms, you tentatively took hold of them. One in each hand, just like last time.
You couldn’t stop worrying about where you’d end up, where you’d walk away to. Walking away from your beautiful field, from Jake. . . What if you couldn’t do it? 
“Will I. . .,” you cleared your throat, nervous. “If where I go is too hard, do I just—,” you panicked, unable to properly finish your sentence due to an onslaught of nerves. “What will I do?”
You were fumbling with your words and clarity, before she interjected, knowing just where your mind was going. “I’ll simply tell you to walk back to your safe place. I’ll be talking you through it, I’ll be right here the whole time — just gotta keep your ears open for me,” she winked, clicking open her iPad and testing her Apple pencil on the screen, readying to take notes. 
“And, if at any point I see your body language change to indicate any distress, I’ll guide you back to your safe place, okay?” She soothingly told you the words, her full pink lips widening to a sweet smile, clicking her pencil into its spot at the top of her iPad case. “Remember, my specialized area is EMDR. I’ve done it multiple times before this – successfully. I plan to complete this successfully with you, too, y/n.”
When you gave her a small, timid smile, she took that as an indicator to continue on with her little speech. The tiny faux grin on your otherwise concerned face was the most emotion you could muster in that moment. 
“It will hurt from time to time. I can’t take that away. It will be harder than most other things you’ve ever had to do.” She paused, her own brows curving to show care for your rigid state. Gia reached forward to unwrap your hands from the paddles gently. Once she had a hold on your hands, she rubbed the backs of them reassuringly, her thumbs so soft with their intricate patterns. You looked down to study the patterns, working to focus on something else and rid yourself of the nerves. 
“Y/n.” She stated your name, making you look up at her. Her seafoam-colored eyes grabbed yours. “Before we begin. . . I want to make sure – once more – that you are sure about this . . . that you want to continue. We’ve talked about it a lot, but I want you to be sure. There are other routes of therapy. . .”
“No,” you replied, completely sure of your decision. “No. I want to do this. I promise I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to change my mind,” you rushed out, desperate for her to understand you. “I’m just–just scared. Is that not okay?”
You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but your biting tone contradicted that. The nerves were wracking you, from the inside out. 
Luckily, Gia seemed unphased, keeping with her featherlight touch to the backs of your hands. “It absolutely is okay to be scared,” she confirmed, tone firm and soft all at once. “But, I need you to keep in mind: you are in charge this time. You have the power. We will approach these places in the now – you are in the driver’s seat of conquering these past battles. We’re in this together, love – and we will make it out stronger and better than before we started.”
Her voice assured you, of course. But the fear was still ever-present. 
Sure, you did have control. But what if you couldn’t control where you went? 
Where would you go? That was what scared you most. Your mind was bound to let loose. It was one telling part of this sort of therapy. You didn’t really know what had been hiding deep in the drawers of the credenza in your mind. . .  
Hence you being here.
You just knew, whatever it was lying beneath the surface — you knew it was. . . a lot. 
Then, as if she could hear the additional fearful thoughts swimming in your brain, she grasped your hands tighter in hers, moving to rub her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “You’ll be just fine. We��ve got a solid plan, babe. I just need you to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself. If you need to walk away, tell me and we’ll do it. That is in our power – your power.” Her pristinely white, pearly teeth were on display as she looked deep into your worried eyes. “We can do this, okay?”
We. I’m not alone. 
You’d never had a single doubt about Gia. Of course you trusted her. But. . .maybe the true problem was trusting yourself. . . Over the past several months, you were finding that to be a bit more difficult. 
But, Gia was right. You had to put some trust in yourself to know when you needed to step away. You could do it. You had to.
And knowing that she had a plan and had done it so many times before. . . Those were relieving thoughts, to say the very least. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what was best for you. 
I can do this, you recited to yourself. I can. . .
You sighed, out of both relief and persistent worry. “I trust you,” you told her, another somewhat forced smile following your words. “And I’ll learn to trust myself. . . I’ll try my best,” you grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got this.”
“Good deal,” she responded with a far more sincere smile than you could offer. “There’s just one more thing we need to do before we get started.” 
She clicked her iPad closed, wheeling back toward her desk, reaching down in the same drawer she pulled the device from. Only this time, she pulled out a large legal style, white notepad, and a large box of Crayola markers. Lastly, she grabbed a flawlessly sharpened pencil from the ceramic baby blue jar, covered in white roses, next to her keyboard. 
What could she be up to? You wondered, eyebrows drawn together. 
“I need you to describe something for me, something visual to lock any horrible memory away in.” She took a sip of her tea, which sat atop her desk, before she stood up from her chair. She came to sit directly next to you on her couch. The smell of eucalyptus that swirled off of her, from her perfume, was soothing. “You need to give it lots of detail, make it unique. I’ll even draw it for you,” she held up the notepad, pointing to it with a gentle smile. “Seeing it visually will help you when it’s time to lock the memories away mentally. Some people want a box, a filing cabinet, a treasure chest,” she laughed, and you giggled at that one, too. Jake would love that one. Buried treasure, like his pirate documentaries. . . “Whatever you want. You just tell me exactly what you want it to look like.” 
Something about this felt a little silly, but you understood the purpose for it. Just having a place to put the memories after you visited them, it felt like closure. A special sort of closure at the end of every session, just like your safe place felt like closure. . .
And then, you knew what you wanted it to look like. Saw the image, clear as day, in your mind. It felt significant to you, it felt right. There was no question. 
But, you had a thought.
“Would–would it be okay if I drew it?” You questioned carefully. 
She eagerly handed you the notepad, markers and pen with a huge smile. “Absolutely. That’s called trusting yourself big time, girly. This box is a special one!” Her voice was wet as she sniffled. “I’m not supposed to get so emotional with my clients, but I’m proud of you. You’re making great strides and we’ve barely started.”
“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit encouraged, your own throat tight as you reviewed her once more with a glance. 
Then, sticking the tip of your tongue out from the corner of your mouth, you looked down at the paper, and began. 
A small, wooden box was all you could see in your mind. So, you drew it out, as best you could, given your lack of artistic abilities.
One side, then the other, the bottom, the top. . .
Before you knew it, you had a perfect, rectangular box on the stripped notebook paper. Then, it was time for the important part: the details. 
There was only one element that felt right — felt safe — to decorate the box with. 
Scouring through the markers, you found two perfect shades of purple at the bottom — two very different shades, to add depth. You weren’t an artist, really, but you could pretend for the box’s sake. 
Then, you searched for the greenest green you could find. One more marker in a shade of dark brown, and you were ready to draw the box exactly as you saw it in your mind. 
You began drawing tiny individual stalks of lavender on top of the box. You filled in their blooms with the purples, drawing their stems underneath with the green. Their placement may have seemed scattered across the top, but you kept going. To you, it made sense. And that was all that mattered. 
One bloom in the top left corner, one diagonal from it in the bottom right corner. Then, there was one on the bottom left going straight up and down, with a slight curve to the stem. . . And one more, laying on its side directly in the middle. . .
It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.
You filled in the blank spaces with the brown marker, immulating the antiqued, stained mahogany wood you were envisioning. 
And once you filled it all in, your vision had come to life right before your own eyes. It was the ideal picture of what you saw, and despite the fact that you were no artist, it was beautiful. You loved it. Looking at it forced emotions you weren’t expecting, so many big emotions that begged to be surfaced. 
And for whatever reason, looking at it made you think of the baby. This beautiful, hand drawn box held a strange connection to the life you and Jake had created, though you couldn’t explain how. . . 
But, you felt it. You felt it so strongly. 
“Lavender means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Gia asked you, smiling and wiping away a stray tear that sat on top of her highlighted cheekbone. “It’s very lovely, y/n. And I’m so glad that you drew it.”
You contemplated her question about lavender. You’d never considered just how prevalent it was in all of your happy places. . . But, it was. It meant so much. . . 
Who knew that such a simple plant could bring you so much comfort? So much peace? 
A tear came to your eye at the thought of how special the plant had become to you. . . It was really no secret why it’d become special. 
Gia leaned over, giving you a small side hug, but didn’t linger before making her way back to her chair. She sat at the edge of it, elbows placed on both knees as she clasped her hands at the front. 
“How are we feeling?” She asked, sniffling once more as she looked you directly in the eyes. “A little better now that we have our box?”
“Yes,” you nodded, wiping under your eye to rid yourself of any tears. “The box idea is genius.”
“The technical term is containment. Again, it’s simply where the client creates a space to store the distressing memories. I want to emphasize that the memories aren’t coming back to control you, rather you’re the one controlling them. And, the box’s containment of the unpleasant memories gives you a little extra control over these memories and the emotions attached to them. They’re yours to deal with,” she explained softly. “You done with the notebook and pens?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded eagerly, handing the materials back to her. You went over her words in your head, extra control. . . the idea of that sounded wonderful to you. Those words aided in lifting a decent amount of weight from your nervous body. 
She took the materials from you, and as she did so, you decided to take the paddles in your hands once more, feeling much more confident. 
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling back in her tufted chair to put the markers and pencils back on the desk. “I definitely can’t take credit for the idea of containing those horrendous memories in a certain area. . . but it has proven wonderfully effective for every client I’ve practiced this form of therapy with,” she explained further, coming back to sit in front of you, wheeling smoothly back towards you. When she was about two feet away from you, she stopped and observed the picture of your box, the notepad still in her lap. “Do you have a clear idea of the box in your mind?”
“The clearest,” you affirmed, no question in your mind of the precise placement of each piece of lavender. The exact color of mahogany that you’d depicted for the wood, sealed in your brain. 
“Wonderful. Well, I’m going to hold it so I can get a good idea of it; just in case you need help finding it at any point,” she said, eyes scanning the page as she spoke. “I’d love to see this in real life – it’s gorgeous.”
“I think so, too,” you grinned, eyes twinkling. And, suddenly, your body felt light in a way that could only indicate one thing. . . you knew there was no time like the present. “I’m ready.” 
Gia looked up at your words, her own eyes donning a spark as she tucked the notepad onto her lap. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she smiled kindly, her eyes trustworthy and open for opportunity. “First things first. Make yourself as comfortable as you need to. Sit, lay down. . . it’s up to you.”
You kept yourself upright on the couch, allowing yourself to sink back into its cushions a bit more. And for some reason, the thought of crossing your legs, criss-cross applesauce came to mind. So, you did just that, bringing your legs up to the couch and criss-crossing one over the other. You looked at your belly as you did. A timid grin crept along your lips at the thought of knowing you didn't have much longer until you’d no longer be able to do this. 
Thank you, sweet baby.
With one deep breath in, you felt your stiff limbs loosen with the comfort of the new position you found yourself in. And with the exhale, you looked down at the paddles in your hands, holding them probably a bit too tight as you felt your nails digging into your clammy palms. Still yet, you kept your grip, somehow feeling a bit more secure that way. 
“Nice and comfy?” Gia asked, her warm, knowing smile aiding in relaxing your body even more. 
You looked down at your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the cool plastic of the paddles. You knew this was it, that this could begin to change a lot; it could change everything. The thought of change was a frightening one, but with this change would come a healing journey like you’d never known. For you, for the baby, for  Jake, even. . .
“As I’ll ever be,” you confidently answered. You were ready to embark on this expedition of mending. 
“Perfect,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring. “Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself relax.”
You did as she said, and with one breath in through your nose and blowing it slowly out of your mouth, you closed your eyes. 
You felt your chest rise and fall with each breath. You began to breathe deeper and easier the longer your eyes were closed. 
“Good job.” You heard her sweet voice, feeling comforted by the simple fact that you knew she was still with you. Though you could no longer see her, you felt her. And that was more than enough. “I’ll start the paddles off slowly, just like last time. Turning them on in 3, 2. . .” 
Your body instinctively jolted at the light humming sensation you felt against your palms, your eyes closing a little tighter. But, you quickly remembered the feeling from last time and it didn’t take you very long to get used to it. You even found a little relief in the alternating vibrations. Their consistent rhythm worked to ease your mind. Your eyes, though still closed, instinctively followed in the back and forth motion of the pulsations in your palms. 
“Does this speed feel okay?” You heard her ask, her voice suddenly becoming more distant as you let yourself focus on the steady thrumming of the paddles. 
“Yes,” you whispered, the sound of your voice echoing as though you were in a long, narrow tunnel. “Feels good.” 
“We’ll start with establishing your safe place, y/n. Go ahead and start walking to it. Lead the way.” 
My safe place. 
Suddenly, as though the mere mention of it had  some sort of ability to transcend you there, you began feeling the familiar cool breeze against your face. Faint sounds of the birds singing in the forest of trees filled your ears, becoming a bit louder as you found your footing against the lightly dampened grass beneath your feet. “The birds,” you felt yourself say. “They’re singing, their chirps are becoming clearer now.” 
“Wonderful.” Her voice was heard all around you, echoing against the wind. “Tell me what you see.” 
Your eyes, still physically shut, began to open in your mind. They squinted at the bright, warm rays from the sun. And as you turned your face upwards toward the sky, you could feel the radiance of the rays against your skin. 
And, as you peered a few feet ahead of you, you witnessed a beautiful family of deer were perusing the lush meadow. 
“The sun. . . It’s so beautiful and bright, but it doesn’t hurt to look at it,” you shared with her, squinting towards it with no negative effect, shocked by the fact. “And the deer. So innocent and pure. They’re so near to me, but not scared of me at all.”
“You’re doing amazing, y/n. Keep going, tell me what you can touch, what you can smell.” Her voice carried throughout the trees like the wind, meshing beautifully with the songs of the birds. 
Bending down, you ran your fingers through the dewy blades of grass. They felt cool, soft. Like a blanket of emerald velvet. “The grass. It’s soft, a little wet.”
And then, the smells. The fragrance of freshly rain coated grass, as though an evening shower had just finished nourishing the ground before you’d arrived. The rainfall, sustaining the life of the pasture, the jude green grasses, the illustrious amethyst plant surrounding you. . . 
The divine aroma from your favored flower overwhelmed your senses in the most alluring way. The bloomed field, surrounding you, holding you carefully in its gentle grasp. 
“The lavender,” you felt yourself say, eagerly. “I can smell it, so fresh and clean; the sense of calm it brings me. . .” 
You then felt the paddles pick up in their speed, ever so slightly, but enough that you could tell.
“Oh yes, your lavender,” Gia hushed as she positively tracked with you. 
My lavender. 
Gently, you sat your body down in the midst of the flowers. And once you did, you felt the urge to place your hands against your tummy, to feel the baby, just like last time. 
There you are, right where you belong, you thought when you felt the smooth bump beneath your hands. 
You felt nearly complete, nearly, but you knew something was still missing—someone. 
And just when you started to look beyond the stems of lavender to find him, there he was. 
Clad in the very same navy blue, three piece suit you’d seen him in the first time. The rays from the sun bounced off of his chestnut locks, his tanned skin radiant and glowing. 
With a soft, lopsided smile, he slowly walked toward you. The vision of him, walking amongst the stalks of lavender as they gently swayed from the light breeze against his calves. . . You felt yourself sigh with relief. 
This was safe. This was home. 
Once he approached you in what felt like no time at all, he laid down right beside you, extending one arm out for you to join him. And as you did, letting yourself at last melt into his warm embrace, you were finally there. 
Your safest place.
“I’m here now,” you muttered, feeling yourself smile warmly as you did. “And I’m safe.” 
“Enjoy it for a moment, let it sink in, put yourself at ease.” You heard Gia’s voice, but the more you focused on Jake, the more distant she became. 
You found yourself gazing into his eyes, sparkling like golden gems, as he cradled you in the crook of his arm. 
In his amber-brown eyes, you saw your haven, your sanctuary of serenity. 
A gentle smile graced his lips as he reached up, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s time to step away now, y/n,” he told you. Though, you knew it was truthfully Gia telling you, you heard Jake’s voice. You watched his lips move as he spoke, “You can do this. I’m right here.” 
Again, you knew the words were coming from Gia. But, hearing them in his voice, as much as you didn’t want to leave him, it was the final push you needed. 
It was time. 
With only a bit of resistance, you sat up, slowly standing to your feet and urged yourself forward towards the unknown. When you looked back, you saw Jake standing gracefully amongst the fragrant blooms of your lavender. 
Home, you thought. He looks like home. 
With one final sigh, and with the most strength you were sure you’d ever mustered, you walked away from him. 
Your hands found your belly for some extra courage as you stepped away, everything turning black for a moment once you got far enough. But, the further you went, a tiny, dim light caught your attention. It initially seemed like miles away, but with every step you took, it became worlds closer. 
A lamp. You could finally see it. It was old, dusty. It was sitting atop a table, from what you could tell. . . 
With one more step, the full picture started to come to you. You’d guessed right — it sat on top of a round, wooden table that only had one leg in the center, making it lean a little to the left. The white, canvas lampshade was stained so badly. . . 
The stains were reminiscent of those that come from years of smoking cigarettes near it. 
In fact, you were shocked that you could tell it had ever been white. 
As the image became more clear, you saw a black ash tray next to the lamp, full of cigarette butts, all but confirming your cigarette theory. You could smell the smoke, too, as though someone had just finished one off. The stench was putrid, the chemically treated tobacco mixed disgustingly with the other trash laying on the table. 
To the right, you saw a sofa. The blue cloth over the cushions, stained just like the lamp, was tattered and worn. It was full of holes. Tiny, black holes. Cigarette burns?
God, the smell was nearly becoming too much. It was so strong, potent. Cigarettes and filth. Utter filth. Filth that you suddenly began to remember being suffocated by as a child.  
No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .
The shag carpet beneath your feet felt like it had never been vacuumed after years of wear. It was littered with half empty beer cans, more cigarette butts, rat droppings. . .
God — the fucking smell. A triggering smell—one that had your stomach turning to the point that vomit rose in your throat. 
The paddles sped up a bit more, much more noticeably this time as they forced your brain to grasp what you were experiencing. 
“Tell me what you see, y/n. Tell me where you are.” It was no longer Jake’s voice that you were hearing, it was once again Gia’s. And though you missed the sound of his, you were so happy to hear her, reminding you that she was still there. 
This was the past. Gia was the present. You were with Gia.
You stepped to the side, glancing around the room you were standing in, trying with all of your might to not allow the stench to make you sick. 
“It’s—I’m in a living room, I think. . .?” You noticed a television set, one from the late nineties with a built-in VCR, sitting on top of a makeshift table made of three small slabs of particle board. 
The more you looked around, you noticed there was only one average-sized window in the whole room, next to the white front door. The door was scuffed to hell and looked ready to give at any second. The blinds attached to the window were ripped to shreds, hardly hanging onto the frame. 
“Y-yeah, it’s a living room. It’s. . .It was our living room. One of them, at least. I’m fully beginning to. . . To recognize it. . .”
You’d lived in so many homes as a child, seen many living rooms. But this one, this home and the walls surrounding you. . .this one was different. While most homes from your childhood didn’t leave you with happy memories, this one felt—evil. This had been a personal hell.
Anxiety, heavy sadness. . . this room was wrought with it.
And as you heard a certain laugh, deep and throaty, from the next room over, your stomach churned and your mind went fuzzy. That sound. It was vile and thick with too many years of smoking. That particular laugh was associated with ugliness and gut-wrenching fear. 
The man that the laugh was attached to. . . This was his house. You remembered that now. There was no safety here. This place was only associated with feeling powerless, forgotten, and lonely. 
The paddles wiggled in your hands, the vibrations reaching your worn nerves.
Elsie was here, though. Somewhere. You knew that. 
And Elsie had helped in making it less lonely — just knowing she was in this past-tense moment filled you with ease. Your sister was here. 
Though, you knew for past Elsie, she was still trapped. Even though she comforted this adult version of you that was invading. . . there was still no escape for little girl Elsie. 
This place had been desolate, with no chance for escape. You’d been tied here by invisible rope.
Fuck. Where was your sister? You could feel her near, but she wasn’t in the living room with you. Your skin prickled at what she could be experiencing. . . You couldn’t fully wrap your brain around it. 
But this was the past. Right now, you just needed to focus on your surroundings.
Living room. The living room. 
Your mind was quickly skirting back to your present placement. And, rather than standing, you suddenly realized you were sitting on the ground. Strangely, your hands in the memory were free of the paddles, tucked safely in your lap, shaking. . . And not daring to touch the dirty, shaggy carpet. 
For a split second, you wondered. . . Why were you not sitting on the couch or a chair? And why were you sitting in a place you felt you couldn’t move from? Was this how you’d been placed originally? In the past? 
You observed the wobbly dinner table in front of you and realized it had zero chairs. And on a second glance around the room, you noticed something you hadn’t before. . . a sleeping form on the couch. 
So, it seemed, with the occupied couch being the only other piece of furniture in the living room besides the table. . . the floor had been your only option. 
You used the unconscious state of the room’s other occupant to your advantage and turned a bit to observe the person. The person’s face wasn’t visible and their body was covered in a blanket filled with holes and torn more than it wasn’t. But. . . You could see hair. 
Blonde. Yellow-blonde. Box-dyed with the cheapest dye. 
Long hair, ratty and knotted to the point of almost no fixing it. The way the strands shone a little bit under the dim lighting from the old, dusty lamp showed you it was very oily as well. . . It wasn’t a healthy shine. 
The person on the couch, from what you could see, was far from healthy in any capacity. The body looked malnourished through the blanket’s holes. At closer inspection, you noticed an arm dangling off the sofa, peeking from the blanket. 
The arm was littered in tiny holes and scars. . . from heroin injections, multiple cigarette burns. . . Then there was the red, irritated acne that littered the pale skin, between the various marks. 
Poor thing. What a dreaded way to live life. . . Your heart broke in your chest and tears sprung to your tired eyes as your hand clutched at your tummy. 
You could do that in the memory. You were you in the present, yet placed like you’d been in the past. . . so weird.
All you knew was you had a sense to protect the untouched life in your womb. The feeling of being a protector to your child was unparalleled to anything in this moment. . . You would never let the little life inside of you bear witness to anything like you had as a child. . .
Like your current situation. 
Or, past situation, rather. . . This was not real. Not in the present. This was controlled — controllable.
The paddles jolted in your real hands, helping you to center you.
“Y/n,” Gia’s voice broke through your psyche, touching your brain delicately. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her soft spoken tone. “Can you hear me, girly?”
You nodded, but weren’t sure if she could see it or if the action was only visible in your dreamlike stupor. This was so weird. . . 
So, you decided to respond the best you could with words. “Y—yeah,” you stuttered out, blinking rapidly as you tried (and failed) to keep tears at bay. “This is. . . So familiar, yet so forgotten. . .,” your voice faded out. 
Your eyes in the memory were now pinched shut, trying to keep the laughter you could still hear from the kitchen (because, yes, you somehow knew exactly where it was coming from) far away. 
But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .
“Tell me where you are, y/n,” Gia requested, soothing, yet strong. “Take me with you. You are going to be okay.”
“I—I can’t—,” gasping, you shook your head. 
Willing the menacing, thick chuckle to fade, you squinted your eyes open slowly, tried to refocus on the living room to tell Gia what you could. Your hands still held your belly, but your thighs came closer to your chest. You wanted to scrunch up and stay in your bubble. 
“Y/n.”
Your blood ran cold and your skin prickled harshly with goosebumps. Fear. Terror. Dread.
The voice wasn’t Gia’s. It wasn’t Jake’s. No. It was coming from behind you. The person on the couch. The worn down, baby blue fabric couch. The navy blue patterns of it, a distant memory, washing back quickly like a flood. . . 
This was definitely a memory. A real thing that had happened in the past. This had happened before. It was deeply repressed. 
A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.
You felt dirty for more reasons than one now. . . 
Looking down, you noticed your outfit had changed. Though you still looked as you currently did in 2022, you were wearing an outfit you had as a child. The attire made your skin crawl. 
This pajama set, you were made to wear it more often than not.
A tiny, satin set. Too small for you to properly fit into. How old were you? Nine? Ten? Was this right before you went to live with. . .?
“Pig.”
No. Not that nickname. No no no.
You hadn’t heard that since your mother had called you–.
The person on the couch.
“Piggy.”
Did you have it in yourself to face her? Could you? What would happen if you didn’t? No. No.
You had to. The baby, safe in your belly. . . that baby needed a mom who could face her demons and not fall to them. 
. . .Fall to them like the shell of a woman, on the couch behind you, had fallen to hers. 
You felt crippled with fear, but brave beyond comparison all at once. . .
The steady tremors from the paddles in your hands were the best help you could’ve had in the moment, reminding you of your power. . .
And, once you’d given yourself the strength to swivel your body to meet her eyes. . . there she was. 
A woman whose face had become a shadow since she’d left you. The moment she’d left you. . .a mess of snot and tears, head throbbing as it laid on Elsie’s shoulder, desperate to understand a mother that had never seemed to love you. 
Your eyes were her eyes. Thankfully, that was about where the similarities in your features stopped. 
She was paler than you. Her lips, thin and cracked from lack of hydration where yours were full. Her cheekbones were sharp and protruded more than they should. . . Your cheekbones, defined, yet concealed under soft skin you took very good care of . . . 
And her face. . . It also lacked freckles. You had the tiniest spatter of light freckles that sat at the tops of your cheeks. Your freckles, mimicking angel kisses, which stayed mostly hidden save for the summertime when they’d make an appearance after exposure from the sun. Her skin was washed out, lacking color. It was as if she hadn’t even been exposed to the sun for a long, long time. . .
Perhaps you might’ve looked more like her than you could tell at this moment. But, right now, all you saw was a sunken face, holding more wrinkles and lines than a woman her age should hone. And, her eyes,  even if they looked like yours initially, were glassy and hollow from too many drugs. . . 
Right now, they held uncertainty and a rage that was becoming more and more apparent the longer you looked into her eyes. . .
She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious. 
The fury, pointed towards you. 
“Get. Up,” your mother ordered, voice cracking a bit, spit flying past her chapped lips. The tone of her voice. . . it made your heart jump into your throat. “Do your job, Pig.”
Before you could respond, you felt heavy footsteps make their way into the living room, shaking the weak structure of the small home that seemed to be falling apart around you. 
“Move, you lazy drug slut,” a booming voice growled. You knew it was aimed towards your mother. “Give little Piggy some space to sit next to Mr. Morgan, hm?”
Mr. Morgan.
The paddles buzzed in your hands, re-centering you. 
You didn’t dare look at the man who’d entered the room behind you, knowing it was the same man attached to the laughter from the kitchen. 
So, it was only out of your peripheral vision when you noticed him round to the other side of you, getting close to your mom. The next thing you saw, faded from the corner of your eye, were fat, sausage-like fingers reaching to yank the thin blanket off your mother. The unmasked view of her figure broke your heart further, her body shaking, bones on full display through her papery skin, begging for a fix. . . 
It didn’t take long for those same fingers to forcefully clutch her shoulder and yank her up. You could’ve sworn you heard the bones in her shoulder crack, but she barely let out a yelp. It was more of a tired groan, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn in with irritation towards being disturbed. 
But, she shook more. . . Her bones, most likely rattling under her skin. And this time, you knew it was more from nerves and terror, than lack of drugs. She was just trying to play tough.
Mr. Morgan (the name, making bile rise in your throat) came to sit at the end of the couch, but your eyes once again drew shut and your body became rigid. Even if you were facing the couch, you still only kept your body towards your mother’s. She wasn’t safe, by any means. But she wasn’t Mr. Morgan. 
You couldn’t look at him. The vile smell of him alone, sweat and grime from lack of showering. . . You were going to hurl on the spot. The way the nausea quickly began to rise in the hollow of your throat, you knew there was no time to get out now. . . Your heartbeat was thrumming so vigorously in your chest, you felt like you were going to choke on its strength.
Then the ugly, bitter laughter was back again. . . Right in front of you this time, your mother moaning next to him. . .
A distant beeping in the background. . . what? Where was that coming–?
The intensity of the paddles increased, the vibrations working to balance you amidst the fear.
“Open your eyes, Pig,” Mr. Morgan grunted, reprimanding you. His voice was stark and loud against the decaying walls of the living room. You winced with what you imagined to come, your heart accelerating and your blood running colder than cold. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes, my little whor–.”
The paddles were working so hard to bring you back, but you couldn’t–.
“Y/n.” Gia’s voice rang out through the disgusting home, flowing into your ears, reassuring you. “It’s time to leave, y/n. Find your safe place.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, not with the tears streaming down your face and the way your breath was stuck in your lungs. Your chest stung from the way your heart rate wouldn’t let up. . . the way your heart raced, unrelenting and beating harder every time. . . . The pain was excruciating, making you want to keel over from the intensity. 
There wasn’t a memory of leaving the room, you just knew you had left as you ran. 
You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, eyes still shut to avoid being used by him–Mr. Morgan. God. You hated that man. You hated your mother. 
But, you weren’t with them anymore. The rotting smell of the home and the body odor that reeked from the two people in your vision – it was all gone. You were out. So, you decided to open your eyes. You had to open them to find the place you’d created for a time just like this. . . 
Your place. Your home. The field of lavender. Jake. Peaceful serenity, awaiting you amongst the birds chirping and the light blue skies. . .
So, with eyes open and tears streaming down your cheeks, you decided you needed to be there now. Now now now now. . .
And before you could request it any further, your feet were touching the lush grass and the skies were clear and powdery blue above you. . .
“Are you safe, y/n?” Gia asked, her voice much clearer when you were in the field, surrounded by nature. Your sanctuary. 
“Yes,” you breathed, voice cracking just a little on the word. You hadn’t spoken for a while. . . Too scared to do so. Clearing your throat, you tried once more. “Yes. Yes, I’m safe. I’m in my safe place. The lavender. The beautiful, tall trees filled with green leaves. The breeze is perfectly warm against my face. . .”
“Wonderful,” Gia said, sounding relieved and stoic all at once. “You are okay, girly. You are okay. It’s not your current reality. It’s not right now. This is right now. You are safe.”
Yes. I’m safe. 
Your breathing was coming much easier and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears any longer. 
Your hands found your belly, the sweetest little round bump.  But where was. . .?
Then, you felt him. Jake. 
Solid and sure behind you, his chest meeting your back. His arms, coming to wrap around you, cradling you and the belly that held his baby. Your head, falling of its own accord to lay back on his shoulder. . . 
You were finally able to relax. Let go. The tears poured from your eyes, wetting your cheeks with steady tracks.
“Shhh,” Jake shushed you, the minty smell of his toothpaste lingering on his breath as it washed over your features. The sandalwood-vanilla of his cologne was reminiscent of heaven, you were sure of it. “It’s okay, baby.”
He swayed you a little, your eyes falling closed in peaceful surrender to him and this moment. . .
“Y/n, I want you to think of your box,” you heard the words, knowing it was Gia. But, you felt Jake saying it. Even if she was the one saying the words, you wanted him to help guide you, too. Your mind was a funny place. 
His voice kept soothing you, “Think of the box and open it. Open it and place the memory you stepped into today inside of it. Secure that memory inside of the box.”
So, with one fleeting glance at the disgusting past you’d had to re-experience today, you mentally opened the lid to the box. And, as the lid opened, you let the people and the stingy place flow quickly into the sturdy wooden structure of the box. 
You could have spit on the people and the place and the smells. . . Fuck it all. 
The sureness of the box truly calmed you as the last little bit of the memory faded into the box. 
“Tuck it away in your box. Just keep it there until you’re ready to revisit it again. . .,” Gia counseled, her words yet again came through as if Jake were saying them. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, lips near to your ear. “You have control of it, y/n.”
Once you knew it was all inside, you let the lid click shut. The little pieces of lavender you imagined to be skillfully painted atop the box assured you that it would all be over soon. 
Beep beep beep beep. The beeping again. Familiar. You’d heard it momentarily at the disgusting, decrepit house. What was it?
“Y/n,” you heard Gia again, her words no longer masked by Jake’s voice. “Are you ready to come back to the office?”
As much as you wanted to never leave the man who still held you, you knew that the sooner you left the safe place, the sooner you could actually see him. He was waiting for you. In the lobby. In the present. 
“Yeah,” you sighed with a sniffle, most of your tears dry after the safety you’d felt in the field of lavender. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
“I’m right here with you,” Gia assured you, her voice the closest it had been since initially closing your eyes. 
You closed your eyes once more, your body feeling lighter. Letting yourself sink into real time, you felt the soft, camel leather of the couch under you, around you. Then came the smell of Gia’s essential oils, filtering in through your senses. Things were okay. 
When your eyes cracked open, so tentative and slow, Gia was ready and waiting with open eyes. 
But the beeping. . . It was still happening — it was incessant. And it was fully apparent now that the sound was coming from your belt bag, hanging on Gia’s office door handle. 
Your heart monitor. 
Shit.
“How long has that been going off?” You blanched, eyes bugged as you got off the couch to grab your bag from the handle. Though, your legs were weaker than you expected, body worn down. It forced you to sit back down to gain your wherewithal.
Noticing this, Gia stuck a hand out to get you to pause from trying again. “I will grab the bag,” she soothed. “You stay there. Give yourself time to adjust to the present time. You’ve been through it, babe.”
All you could do was nod and swallow thickly, your heart no longer beating hard enough to make the phone go off. But apparently it had accelerated at some point. . . 
And then you remembered. 
Mr. Morgan. He’d made your heart rate go ballistic. 
When he’d approached, commanded you to open your eyes, and almost called you that horrible name. . . it had gone insane. 
Your chest had been in so much pain, and you could remember hearing the incessant beeping, now. . .
“Fuck, Gia,” you combed a hand through your hair. “My heart . . . I remember. . . my chest was hurting like a bitch.”
Gia inhaled deeply. “Yeah. . . You know, how about I hold the phone that tracks it from here on out? To keep an eye on your heart rate?” She suggested, raising a brow as she walked back to you with the belt bag. Raising a brow, she eyed you as she got close enough to hand your belongings over to you. “We need to be aware of your health and the baby’s first and foremost, before anything else.”
You swallowed with a slight nod, not wanting to see where your heart had skyrocketed to. But you knew you had to see it. So, you unzipped your bag and shakily got your monitor phone out.
When you slid the screen open to check, your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes at the very large number, flashing at you in red. 
Shit. 185. What the fuck?
That could have gotten really bad, really fast if Gia hadn’t stopped you when she did.
“So. . . What had it gotten to?” Gia questioned carefully, wide eyes serious and ready to help. 
You observed her for a second, not wanting to divulge just how high it had gotten for one reason in specific. . . The fear that Gia would make you stop EMDR if she knew just how high it had gotten — that possibility kept your lips sealed.
“Girly, I really feel it’s incredibly important that we keep track of that. I didn’t want to be invasive while you were under, but I heard it and I knew what it was. . .,” Gia tried to counsel you, taking your skeptical gaze as you finding her invasive. “I really didn’t like not knowing what your heart rate was. It’s best we stay aware of that. We have to be so careful of that, girly.”
You wanted to tell her. Duh. Why wouldn’t you want to? You told her everything else. . . The possibility of not being able to—.
“We will still continue our EMDR, y/n,” Gia grinned warmly with a wink. “I know that’s what you’re worried about. . .”
Your mouth puckered, as you took in a deep breath, gawking at the tall blonde across from you. 
You couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that spurted from your lips, in spite of your worried thoughts. You were in awe of your therapist’s intuition. “How did you know?” You questioned, already mostly knowing the answer.
The answer was: people in this profession were really very incredible. . . And Gia — she, in particular, was so empathetic and so aware of everything that mattered to you. . .
“It’s my job to tune in to that shit,” she grinned, sitting back in her rolling chair, one leg crossed over the other. 
After sharing a smirk with her, you decided you might as well tell her. You were nearing the end of your time, and you assumed she still wanted to be filled in on what had happened during your time under. 
“My BPM was. . . in the 180s,” you divulged, wary of her reaction. “That’s um—that’s really high,” you tagged on to the end, blowing out a breath, still shocked at the number yourself.
“Ho-ly fuck,” Gia stated, eyes wide and mouth in a straight line as she shook her head. “No shit that’s high.”
“We’ll figure it out?” you stated the question, hoping it would be ammunition for Gia to agree. 
“Of course,” she nodded adamantly. Sitting up in her chair, she leaned forward. Her elbows, on the ends of her thighs, near her knee caps. “When do you turn it in? How long do we have with it?”
“I turn it in next week,” you answered, curious where she was going. “Hopefully I’ll get some results and sure answers. . .” Trailing off, you decided to shut up so she could get to her point. 
“Well. . .,” she started, rubbing her palms together, eyes glancing down and back to you, “Would you be opposed to me attaching another monitor to you during our sessions? After that one is turned in?”
“That’s a great plan,” you answered, nodding with pursed lips. “Sounds safe.” Though, you paused. One more question. “And you’ll keep watch of it next time?”
“If that’s what you want from me, I’d love to be able to help you in that way,” she answered with a reassuring sureness in her tone. 
“I do want that,” you replied with a sheepish grin. “I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course, girly,” Gia smiled, lopsided and full of ease. “We’ll make sure to get you through this therapy the safest we possibly can. Gotta protect you and that baby.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
After filling her in on everything from your EMDR vision, she’d given you a few more pieces of therapeutic wisdom and advice. Little things to follow if the memories came back with a vengeance. 
But, you’d gone more than five minutes over your session’s time at that point, pushing her other appointment back. 
So, you didn’t get long before the two of you had to bustle out. You’d been about eight minutes past session end time when you officially exited the small room, the session having just ended. 
A long fucking session.
Your body was extremely weighed down by fatigue and exhaustion. So, when you finally connected with Jake, you sunk happily into his warm, safe embrace. 
It seemed walking directly into Jake’s arms was exactly what your body longed for after leaving Gia’s office. You’d had little to no choice in where your body had guided you.
He had already been standing, waiting for you. His amber-brown eyes, wide open and full of readiness to help you. He’d seemed anxious to see you. You could tell as much by the tapping of his foot, the way he’d been worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the wrinkle of his brows. . .
So, of course, as soon as you approached, his arms had widened to welcome you in. 
Surprisingly, you hadn’t cried when you met his arms. . . Honestly, it was probably because you’d exhausted your tear ducts during your session. And all that you felt now was pure numbness. You didn’t know how to feel – just knew that you were tired and needed someone to be close to.
And Jake was the person you wanted most. 
Once safe in his embrace, you didn’t have the mental energy to even think about how it would look to Gia – but you knew she’d understand. 
You felt Gia come up behind you, even halfway heard her introducing herself to Jake. 
And even though you were out of it, you still heard Jake respond kindly, hearing the smile in his voice. When he moved his hand to shake hers, you didn’t turn around, just kept your face tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms still tightly hugging you to him. The pressure was really nice – it really calmed you down to feel so secure with him. 
It felt like the field of lavender, but this was really real – and that made it inexplicably better. 
Thankfully since you’d quickly scheduled the next session in Gia’s office, you didn’t have to wait much longer to head home. You didn’t want to leave his embrace, but you ended up turning out of Jake’s arms to tell Gia goodbye. 
When you reached forward to give her a hug, she whispered calmly in your ear. “You’re safe. Everything is okay in the here and now. I’m proud of you, y/n. You are already making great strides.”
After telling her a quiet ‘thank you’, you turned to Jake. 
“I’m ready when you are,” he assured you, lips turned up in an easy grin. His eyes were soft in a way that showed you he really was ready to be whatever you needed him to be. 
You didn’t need to be told again. You were ready for food and sleep. So, after the two of you waved to Gia over your shoulders,  Jake let you lead him out, opening the door for you from behind. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
When you snapped out of your daze and found a bit of energy, you decided to divulge to Jake just how high your heart rate had gotten during the session.
You had expected him to be a little worried on your behalf, but he’d gotten. . . really, really worried. You’d go so far as to call it a minor anxiety attack. 
His eyes had bugged, face had paled, and his breathing had gotten choppy. . . All signs of some serious anxiety on his end. 
His care for the situation was apparent, that much was for certain. He’d babbled in a rush of words – voiced a lot of concern on your behalf and the baby’s. . . Well, that was what you could catch in his raspy, frenzied tone. You’d missed a few things as he’d rushed the words out.
It was really sweet how much he cared. You had to work to keep the tiny grin off your face in response to his obviously sincere regard for your health (and the baby’s). You’d kept your quiet smile at bay the best you could and calmly reassured him that you were wearing a heart monitor for a reason – so the doctors could track those weird things and get down to the root of why your heart sucked ass at times. 
You’d explained that medical professionals had started dealing with it the night at the emergency room and would continue once your monitor got sent in within the next couple of weeks.
“I know today’s already been a lot, but do you have it in you to explain more about that night?” Jake asked, his breathing evening out as he rounded the curb, out of the office parking lot. “The night you went to the emergency room?”
“Yeah, totally,” you readily agreed, jumping at the opportunity to not think about the muddled images still flashing in your mind from your session. “Where do you want me to start?” You wondered aloud, peeking at him as you picked with a loose string on the seam of your leggings.
He cleared his throat in the way that indicated he was a little nervous. “What triggered it, exactly? Had you been okay at the bar that night? Was it because of something that had happened there?”
“It wasn’t really because of anything that happened at the bar, no,” you shook your head, looking down at the string you were pulling at, giving it a good yank to do away with it. “And I was kind of okay that night. . . Same as I’d been every other day around the time,” you laughed humorlessly, not missing those days at all. 
But, you couldn’t help reflecting on the events at the bar. . . since he'd brought it up. That night, just thinking of it still gave you butterflies. . . The way he’d feasted his eyes on you as your song played. . .
Stay focused, y/n.
“Um— during those earlier days, I’d had several days where I’d been really fuckin’ dizzy. . . could hardly eat most days, always nauseous and puking. . .,” you crinkled your nose at the thought, shivering at the memories. 
After getting over the thought of the constant vomiting, you stopped your train of thought to consider the fainting. All of the factors. You were not sure what to blame in particular. Though, you remembered Dr. Stevens’ opinion. 
“Honestly, more than one factor triggered it. . . but. . .,” you drew in a breath, pinching your eyes shut at the worst part of the night. “I actually blacked out and fucking fainted,” you cracked one eye open to look over at him to gauge his reaction.
“You blacked— you what?!” His voice rose a little bit at the idea, the car swerving the slightest bit when he glanced at you.
“Focus on the road!” You shook your head, eyes now opened wide at his swerve. However, you did find his reaction a bit funny. “I’m fine now, Jake,” you reassured, reaching over to give his arm one squeeze. 
But quickly, you placed your hand back in your lap to avoid any sort of awkwardness. 
You offered him a smile as your hand moved, looking up at him from your twitching thumbs, just as he glanced down at you. 
His eyebrows were still knit with worry when he faced the road again. “You’re sure?”
“Mostly,” you answered, thinking of the heart monitor’s job, peering down briefly to where it stayed on your chest. “They’re tracking my heart rate to make totally sure. And I’ve even kept an eye on my hemoglobin — which is doing much better, too. Not that you care about that part—.”
“I care about it all,” Jake interrupted, his tone insistent enough to make you pause and look over at him. 
Let him care, y/n. He wants to. . . Don’t tell him what he cares about and what he doesn’t. . .
From under your lashes, you studied him. You were glad he was now stopped at a light, giving you a little time to share a look with him. His eyes were full of warmth. . . The deep brown of his irises, capturing you. His eyes held yours so tenderly, desperate for you to understand he meant what he said.
And you did understand. You understood that he truly cared for you. . . and that his patience for you was incredible. You just felt completely undeserving of the amount of chances he’d given you after you’d hurt him so badly. 
The look in his eyes had you trapped, completely enamored by all of him. . . Your heart beat was pulsing in your ears, helping you to feel light as a feather under his stare. 
But, when a car honked to let you both know the light had turned green, it jolted you both, effectively tearing your focus from the other. He was driving again and you were back to looking through the windshield to continue your story. 
You cleared your throat to break up the air.
“We um— we checked all the boxes, you could say. The doctor was sure to put measures in place to keep an eye on all of the things that could have been a major issue to trigger that,” you spoke confidently, to give him affirmation that things were okay. “So, yes, I’m sure I’m fine now and I’m going to be fine in the future.”
Out of selfish desire, you let your line of sight float back to him. Yet again. It was just so easy to sit and admire his natural beauty. . .
Jake sucked in a breath, so deep from his chest. You could tell he was considering your words, one brow still arched in contemplation. 
“Okay,” he sighed his response, relief evident in his looser posture. He eased up his grip on the wheel, leaning back in the seat. You tried not to watch the way his jeans stretched over his lap. “So,” he started, “is there anything else you found out that night? A big, prevailing reason you quite literally blacked out?”
“The doctor I spoke to thinks it’s because of this underlying condition I most likely have — called POTS.”
“POTS?” He asked, his tone curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”
“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day. 
“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”
You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day. 
The car stayed silent for a few beats. 
Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.
“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful. 
He seemed to be contemplating it all.
He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.” 
Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . . 
Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought. 
“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”
“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”
“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion. 
You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.
The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end. 
It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth. 
It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.
That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo. 
But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . . 
God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .
Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .
The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight. 
As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.
And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . . 
“Y/n?”
“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories. 
Now was not the time. 
To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .
“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”
“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit. 
Music. You needed music. 
You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”
“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”
At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.
“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’.  I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.” 
Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . . 
You were just hormonal and emotional. 
You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”
Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you. 
But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .
It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.
But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . . 
You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!
This was going to drive you fucking nuts. 
So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment. 
The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses. 
And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.
Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?
'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true
You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . . 
Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .
And I'm sorry for it 
I'm emotional 
This is your fault 
Please listen when I say 
I care about you
You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .
But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him. 
And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours. 
You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.) 
The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.
Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest. 
This moment. . .
His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.
I was in the moment
I ain't really mean what I said to you
So put away your pride, baby
We can work it out if you want this, too
You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.
But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .
Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw. 
The OB office. 
Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .
The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?
You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him. 
“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could. 
“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.
“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.
“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark. 
Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely. 
Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right? 
“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”
“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason. 
Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 
“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”
Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”
Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”
Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further. 
You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?” 
“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.
“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”
You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked. 
“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.
“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”
“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear. 
She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.” 
Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek. 
Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body. 
But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in. 
Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.
“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”
“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her. 
This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful. 
She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.
“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now. 
“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”
Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud. 
“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”
“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”
“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”
“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”
“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips. 
“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”
You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy. 
“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.
“And he will be comin’?”
“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.
“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone. 
And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest. 
“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat. 
After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling. 
But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .
Or maybe you were just really, really tired.
-🌼🌼🌼-
“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex. 
You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.
If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you. 
You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.
You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night. 
“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”
It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space. 
Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him. 
The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip. 
And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . . 
You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . . 
But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.
“Hey.” 
Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.
Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features. 
For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.
“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it. 
Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.
“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”
“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak. 
“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”
And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . . 
“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”
“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way. 
Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment. 
You needed fucking sleep.
-🌼🌼🌼-
After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed. 
Finally.
Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long. 
At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you. 
He hadn’t left you yet.
Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home. 
And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped. 
After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day. 
The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR. 
To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent. 
That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . . 
Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped. 
The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet. 
But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh. 
Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed. 
But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature. 
The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . . 
You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.
What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.
She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair. 
The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . . 
You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.
It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind. 
You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist. 
The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . . 
And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black. 
Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen. 
One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.  
“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”
She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times. 
So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake. 
Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there. 
You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify. 
And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go. 
This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so. 
It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.
Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest. 
No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.
Knock, knock, knock, knock. 
Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . . 
Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.
Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole. 
When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt. 
As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks. 
He’d changed clothes after dropping you off. 
Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . . 
He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.
And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him. 
Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?” 
A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal. 
Pleasant surprise. 
Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass. 
Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare. 
When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . . 
His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.
No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it. 
So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation. 
His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips. 
Fuck.
“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.
Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left. 
“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys. 
“Yes.”
“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions. 
“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.
“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay. 
For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door. 
Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused. 
Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.
He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you. 
Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?” 
You didn’t say that last word. Nope. 
“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words. 
A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit? 
“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again. 
“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”
Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally. 
But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace. 
It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away. 
Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug. 
Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . . 
Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard. 
He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated. 
And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways. 
When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly. 
So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could. 
He wouldn’t remember it anyway.
When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct. 
You wrapped your arms around his midsection. 
It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.
Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.
You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom. 
While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .
But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him. 
Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame. 
Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go. 
Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 
He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago. 
So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you. 
“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man. 
Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”
His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it. 
“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off. 
It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.
He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.
But. . . drunk words are honest –.
“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.
You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him. 
When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck. 
“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them. 
Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light. 
You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal. 
“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.
When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked. 
“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.
And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep. 
You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way. 
The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out. 
You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.
It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right? 
So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare. 
But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . . 
His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.
He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell? 
When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . . 
A secret not even for Jake to know.
Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you. 
His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week. 
He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . . 
So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment. 
Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”
“What was your question?” 
When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . . 
Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.
“It was noth–.”
“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”
“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”
“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”
God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him. 
Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him. 
His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.
You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at. 
And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks. 
But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.
You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.
Diversion. 
“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass. 
You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt. 
Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass. 
So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle. 
Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy. 
His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face. 
You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.
“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”
Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes. 
“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name. 
But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him. 
In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own. 
And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake. 
He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer. 
Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes. 
The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . . 
For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy. 
Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear. 
Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.
And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore. 
The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone. 
Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow. 
You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. 
And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.
A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. 
“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 
You thought a moment before you answered. 
With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. 
As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 
But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. 
There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. 
You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.
“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.
You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.
“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near. 
The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts. 
“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”
“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns. 
His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him. 
Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time. 
And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged. 
Stars. You saw so many stars. 
“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now. 
All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.
You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?”  He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”
The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.
“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word. 
Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you. 
He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body. 
You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck. 
No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have. 
“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”
“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.) 
And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer. 
“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself. 
And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him. 
He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind. 
“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state. 
“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”
“You sure?”
“More than.” 
Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell. 
You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit. 
You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food. 
But he was right there. . . 
No. 
You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes. 
Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”
“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”
“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”
“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”
“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door. 
Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit. 
You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder. 
The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.  
He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
About forty-five minutes passed. 
You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious. 
Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.
You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.
Jake. 
“Will you come sleep with me?”
You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.
“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.
But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.
When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.  
Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system. 
Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .
. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones. 
The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .
“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked. 
His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.
Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice. 
“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle. 
“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”
“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck. 
Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell? 
God. . .
Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all. 
But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?
Shit.
You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake. 
“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”
“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it. 
 You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again. 
“Want me to wash it?”
“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”
“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”
“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal. 
And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room. 
Well. 
Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated. 
You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk. 
He definitely wasn’t.
Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined? 
After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you. 
Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.
Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . . 
Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle. 
It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling. 
Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy. 
The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .
Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly. 
Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell. 
After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it. 
And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight. 
You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby. 
That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
“Why did you come home?”
You were laying in his bed. Just like old times. 
Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight. 
Everything else though? Same as always.
Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.
Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him. 
It was heaven. That was what it was. 
A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.
Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair.  “I don’t like being away from you.”
Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.
“Was Maya mad?”
“Yeah.”
“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.
“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”
“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence. 
But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to. 
You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago. 
Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.
“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”
The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . . 
Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. 
“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.
You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly. 
Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible. 
“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss. 
And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring. 
It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night. 
. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
December 16, 2022 
As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday. 
“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic. 
Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”
He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. 
“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid. 
“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”
You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.
He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.” 
He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands. 
“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”
“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.
Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips. 
“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”
Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?
You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room. 
He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing. 
You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day. 
You, speaking of love. 
Jake, mentioning multiple kids. 
You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.
You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”
He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you. 
“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”
Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean? 
“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though. 
“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words. 
“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”
The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen. 
And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it. 
Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so. 
The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment. 
You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . . 
The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement. 
Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.
Here we go. . .
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3
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I’m sick and tired of the Flower Husbands discourse. Like really truly it is just making me so upset now. They are my comfort ship. They are. My first tattoo is a poppy with the ESMP1 quote. I want to hold them in my hands and give them all of the good things in the world. When I see people calling them toxic and abusive, it really hurts me. And there’s not a tag to filter out all of it, not all of them tag “toxic flower husbands”. I get it, okay? I do. I get why you might see them like that. But if anything? If we’re going to see Flower Husbands as the most toxic duo, take a look at every other relationship Jimmy has in the Life Series (with the exception of Tango) and you’ll find the same thing. He’s the butt of the joke. He’s the canary they all poke fun of in his cage. He doesn’t care. But Scott does care. If Desert Duo never left the desert, Scott never stopped crying at Jimmy’s grave. Did you watch his series all the way through? Did you see his ideal afterlife? That Jimmy welcomed him home because that is what they had together? Did you hear the way Scott’s voice got sad talking about how quiet and weird it was not to have Jimmy with him? Have you not watched as Scott uses every single opportunity possible to bring up Flower Husbands? He misses Jimmy with every fiber of his being. Jimmy misses Scott too. Did you watch Last Life? Do you know what Martyn did to make Jimmy give him back the life? He promised a life together, Martyn says it himself! That it was all romantic promising to run away just the two of them. How Jimmy was so hopeful. So naive because this was the beginning, he’s not got all of the hope anymore. Jimmy has had to move on. Jimmy made himself move on. 30 seconds. Do you not imagine him turning away from that interaction resigned to his choice a single tear rolling down his face before he rejoins his boys in their shenanigans? Cause I do. That was a man he had devoted his life to. And yeah, maybe it was because of a joke and a silly a poppy. But do you know what a poppy means? Remembrance, dreams, death, and hope for a peaceful future. Do you know what the white daisy, blue cornflower, and red tulip meant at Jimmy’s grave? Purity, life, reanimation, hope, and true feelings. Do you think a character who conveys a message like that capable of the abuse you accuse him of? Scott’s general air of cattiness is just his character. Hard edges that once you’ve chipped away at, reveal someone who is extremely dedicated and fiercely loyal even and especially to his own detriment. Scott will make jokes about finally being free once his husband dies to the war, but I really think that’s just him preparing for the inevitable. Jimmy was going to die. Canary or not. They all were. So why not make a joke out of being lambs in a slaughterhouse. Isn’t that one of the main ways people cope? Scott loved his husband. Still does and will continue too. Jimmy is the same. But he let go. Had to. He would never have forgiven himself for dragging Scott down with him. How many times do you think that man apologised to Tango for dying first. How many times do you think that man apologised to Tango for dying first before they even lost their third life in the first place? I honestly think Scott himself sums this up best: “I don’t always put myself first and sure I’ve made plenty of mistakes and I’ve hurt people. But I’ve always done my best.”
So next time you wanna call them toxic, rewatch the series and think about this post.
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absolutebl · 3 days
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This Week in BL - It's the Dog Days of BL Again
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
May 2024 Final Week
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Wandee Godday (Sat YT) ep 5 of 12 - The side couple is so damn pouty and adorable. So far as Yak and Dee are concerned, I love that they kept up with the cosplay stuff and didn’t just drop it as a one off. I'm just genuinely enjoying seeing how much fun they have together and watching them accidentally falling in love with each other and trying not to.
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Linguistic corner!
I don’t normally watch any BTS stuff, but for reasons known only to my serotonin-seeking brain, I’ve been watching a few for this show. And I MUST talk about the way Great speaks Thai. It’s so different from all of the other Good GMMTV Boys. He’s way more casual. Not rude, but definitely not as formal or as polite as any of the actors around him. It’s difficult to describe but just LISTEN to the way he hops registers and pronouns pretty consistently. Sometimes in the same sentence. He even softens his polite particles. I've never heard an actor do that out of character. It’s fascinating. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that he is older (then most of his costars) and comes outta the Bangkok club scene, and was older when he joined GMMTV. Frankly, it’s the closest I’ve ever seen on TV to the way people actually talked in Bangkok. 
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My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 eps - honestly these two shows are neck and neck for my favorites running right now and Wandee got the edge because it left me smiling, but yesterday, Stand-In would have come out on top. Such a great show. It’s so sinister. So not romantic. Which makes me feel like... it's not really a BL. And, yet, I DO NOT CARE. Because I’m enjoying its little evil soul so much. “Poor Joe” is pretty much all that goes through my head the whole time I'm watching, and I'm enjoying poking at that pain.
We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 9 of 16 - I love all of the 3rd wheels. Kluen is kinda great. And I’m not just saying that 'cause I have a crush on Title, it’s because Kluen is so open and genuine. (Unless they fuck up his character.) I even enjoyed the backstory for Fang and Tan. Honestly, the friendship group is the reason to watch this show, they’re great and funny, and make everything enjoyable. It’s a soap opera, like Only Friends, but gentle with its characters and us watchers. Which is what I really want from my BL. I don’t want all of this Friend Zone backstabbing bullpuckie. 
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Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - I like it, frankly more than I expected to. It’s a bit slow moving, but the characters are interesting and the dynamic of everybody living in the same house together is fun. I haven’t seen this style of housemates centered Thai BL in years. I identify FAR too closely with the crass-talking bug-killing pansexual. On a completely different note, I really hope Best and Seng have an NC scene together. Last week I would never have said that, but now I think they have good chemistry. Am I crazy?
Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 8 of 12 - They are sickeningly sweet boyfriends, and Moo is such a brat and so demanding. It’s charming. There was even a little bit of dancing together which I’m sure made @heretherebedork happy. Dancing okay but NO SINGING. 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Asami's past was cool to see. I enjoyed that his character finally got fleshed out and given some solidity. However, it felt like it came a little too late. Even though I know this is the way Japan tends to roll with BL timing. I wanted to like him sooner then this. Now I'm not really that invested.
Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 8 fin - It was an extremely good and very satisfying ending for a JBL, which we cannot expect, so I'm disposed to dole out top marks for that. Also we definitely have a new contender for Namgoong award for best wingman. (Japan's favorite: the bespectacled variant.)
Summation:
Kindly Ryota goes to uni and ends up rooming with his former childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend for, as it turns out, cute roommate reasons. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake, the framing is gorgeous and it is a stylish piece. As a friends to lovers cohabitation narrative this was a classic 2000s sweet yaoi. I enjoy that kind of tradition out of Japan even if it (and the characters) come off as a little slow as a result. Still, it's nice to get a traditional BL out of Japan that is satisfying, not slapstick, AND did not hurt us. 8/10 recommended
Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 5-6fin - gonna have to wait until next week, for mysterious hotel wifi reasons.
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It's airing but...
You Made My Day (Thai YT) ep 1 of 5 - mini series staring the I Will Knock You couple Tar & Bom, started but I couldn't find it. I also didn't try very hard.
The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS. How?
OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ????) ep 2 of 10 - yeah I can't find it. Comments from last week suggest this is not my thing anyway, but Lee Long Shi very much IS my thing, so... maybe I'll put it on hold for a bit and y'all can let me know.
In case you missed
VBL (Taiwan) is released 'Special Episode' epilogues to their 4 2023 series on Gagaoolala, Viki & Viu - watch each on the respective shows' page: You Are Mine, VIP Only, Stay By My Side, Anti Reset.
My Biker 2 (Thai movie trailer) suposedly released somewhere, search me.
The Time of Huannan (Taiwan movie) went to theaters, not sure if we will get this, and it may not be BL.
And here's a 2023 that I missed and finally watched:
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After Sundown AKA Saengrawi
ZeeNunew vehicle from 2023, recut into a movie on YouTube. It's from Mandee and horror, yet I enjoyed it more than I thought I would.
Pronoun use is ter/chan or rao (no nai or pom) because of the historical setting + softness of the relationship.
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It's oddly sweet and wholesome, for a ghost story. Phloeng and Rawee enter into an arranged marriage for confusing prophetic reasons and a twisted fate, solving a mystery of the past that is haunting Phloeng's family and harming Rawee. Honestly, it makes no actual sense, but it's kinda historical, and very pretty, so I enjoyed it more than I should. 8/10
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Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
June Releases
6/7 My Love Mix-Up (Fridays Thai Adaptation not sure where this will air) - I do love G4 and I did like the original and maybe this time these characters will actually kiss? I'm actually fine with this pick-up. I kind of enjoy seeing different countries remake the same IP. Especially if it's IP I'm mostly unfazed by.
6/7 The Last Time (Thailand Fridays YouTube?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something?
6/9 Love Sea (Thailand Sundays MAME warning iQIYI - New characters to the Mameverse. While travelling, a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man. YES I WILL TRASH WATCH THIS. Drinking will happen on Sundays I guess. (Look, I do usually travel on weekends, so it may end up being Monday Mame Trash - which jives.)
6/14 Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru 2 AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo Tabetai 2 Haime! (Japan movie Gaga?) - Continues the (frankly) lackadaisical story from part 1.
6/15 Sunset Vibes AKA SunsetXVibes (Thailand Saturdays) Star Hunter and MosBank on iQIYI so if nothing else it's gonna be a wild and sexy ride. A one night stand but "uh-oh he’s my boss," adapted from a web series. I’m game. Maybe it’ll have a better story than Big Dragon? Maybe it will have a plot? We can but hope.
6/26 The Rebound (Thai Weds VIU?) - MeenPing are back in their 3rd BL together, a basketball based romance (Meen was a national basketball player, so yay for that). I like this pair better than most (I still do miss Meen with Est but Est has a fantastic looking new BL coming from GMMTV so yeah...) Anyway I'm up for a sports romance starring a man who, yah know, actually played that sport so... I'm game (pun intended).
(Speaking of, why can't Est be a merman? This... I ask you?.)
Why You? (Khmer movie - Billed as a horror romance BL this is supposed to release this month.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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In my world we call this smug. (Only Boo!)
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LOOK AT HIS ARM?! This has been your Goodness Gracious Great Guns Of Huge 2024 moment.
(All Wandee Goodday)
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity
@rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.
There's these tricks, remember.
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