#GOD I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SUCH A BIG WALL OF TEXT.

[skrunksthatwunk]

so a thing that my brain does on the reg is it makes me get nervous about a scenario (ranging from probably-won't-happen to Definitely-Won't-Happen) and then i have to spend like 40 minutes meandering my way through an improv youtube apology video until my brain feels like I've addressed the scenario about as well as i can and lets me move on. usually this comes in the form of like

you accidentally said a forbidden slur (i.e. one i can't reclaim) while streaming/in a group conversation and now have to explain that your brain misfired catastrophically hard and that you've never said this word before (true) And You Have To Do It Well Enough To Be Believed

because like. i wouldn't believe that guy either, y'know? most people in that situation just cross that bridge when they get to it and do pretty bad, so maybe my brain is trying to help prepare me via interrogation. my point is that i spend a lotta my spare time pacing in my bathroom fending off theoretical murder charges (which are either phony OR true OR a secret third thing depending on the day).

as soon as i woke up this morning my brain gave me a new one:

what if people accuse you of faking your (middling) knowledge of french? and also you're a celebrity and have to prove it by speaking french live on a talk show or something.

which like. good morning to you too, brain. the first thing i did was (slowly, mediocrely) construct an appropriately indignant sentence in my head (i haven't used french since my ap exam like a month ago) and then

BUT WHAT IF PEOPLE THINK SOMEONE FED ME THE LINE

ok we'll have the audience write in questions live

WHAT IF THEY STILL THINK IT'S RIGGED AND ALSO WHAT IF I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE ASKING ((<- LIKELY AND UNCHARACTERISTICALLY ROOTED IN LIVED EXPERIENCE!!!)) WHICH WOULD PROBABLY MAKE IT WORSE

girl that's The Most i can do what do you want from me.

and then once i woke up more i had a realization in that blasted out, quiet way—like an astronaut drifting away from their ship untethered, forever. that

the prognosis of taking american public high school language courses is to remember jack shit (pardon my french). it's a classic babe it's near universal. we all know we don't know.

Babygirl, (And I Cannot Express This Enough,) No One Is Ever Going To Make You Speak French Live In ~5-40 Years To Prove You Took It In High School. Go Back To Sleep. there's only like two scenarios you can think of ever where that happens and there's like a 70+% chance you can just say no or ignore it. what a weird thing to fake in the first place too who would even accuse you of that.

anyway sometimes being a citizen of Braintown is funny and not exhausting in a kind of sad clown way but it's usually just kind of awful. something something c'est la vie

[dilf-docs]

This Thing Upon Me, Howls Like A Beast

professor!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: to cover some social hours and as a favor to your recently fallen-ill friend, you become your research methodology professor's TA. but here's the catch: you've got history, and what you really mean is beef; good, pure, unadulterated loath.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, pwp, rivals to ??, hate sex, p. in v. (do i even wrap it atp), degradation kink, daddy kink, lwk exhibition kink bc this happens on his office (rip to the furniture), bit dom!pedro + brat taming (again?? stop it mayor we get itttt omg) sprinkled here and there, fingering, squirting, creampie (everyone got invited to the party), reader is a loud-mouth (who's this divaaa), pedro's kind of an asshole and a perv in this one (ooc sorry), don't expect a second part this is literally just self-fulfilling filth without a storyline

word count: 6,451 words

side note: hello! this won the poll. am i the only one with this fantasy? pls tell me not; i feel insane looking some of my professors like a fucking starved drooling dog. giggling as we speak, bc the movie's got everybody insane between marvel renaissance, gif dump, new content, husband!pedro material and professor wet dreams out there... this piece of work is the last. hope you enjoy it, citizens! ps. jin of bts makes an appearance bc i love my seven men and i'm currently sick so he is sick too lmao (ah pero para escribir cochinadas ahí sí estás sana verdad)

It's your fault, really, for opening it in the middle of the class. It was a link, and you should've saved it for later, but then your thumb clicked into the blue underlined text your friend sent, and the reel popped up on your screen.

Your laugh erupted before you could cover your mouth, your professors' words hanging mid-air.

"Who did that?"

Everyone looks at you. Those sell-out, ass-kissing, boot-licking dicks.

His eyebrows furrow until they seem to melt into one, a big angry scowl on Mr. Pascal's face.

"Something you'd like to share with the class, Ms. Y/n?"

His voice reverberates on the class' walls, sounding even scarier.

You shake your head, tone quiet as you let out a small, "No"

"No?" he repeats your words, mocking your insecure demeanor, "because with that loud ass laugh, it seemed like something important enough to dissrupt my class. So please, share. You can't leave us wondering in here"

People cough and avoid your gaze while you wish the building would collapse and kill everyone inside, you included. Oh, that would be good. But no, you're stuck on a space that now feels too small and his persistent gaze cuts right through you.

"I-It's not important-" you stumble over your words.

"Can't speak anymore? All that boldness, suddenly gone"

"Mr. Pascal" you plead. God, you had never even begged for anything in your life. But there's always a first.

"I said share" his voice menacing, like he's got not an ounce of sympathy in that sturdy body that could fit plenty. No, wait. Focus!

He grows impatient at your lack of movement, practically growling his next words:

"I won't repeat myself"

"I-I I don't know how to-" you cut yourself off, cringing at how pathetic you sound. "It's a video, so-"

"Then cast your phone and project it" he clicks his tongue, clearly enjoying this. What a sadistic motherfucker.

"I-I can't-"

Can Jesus please hurry up and come fast? Even better, immediately take this one to hell, please.

"Aw, you poor thing" he tuts, mockingly. No one dares to speak, and you'll learn later that he's got his own reputation. For a reason.

"Don't worry, I'll help you myself"

Turns out, the fucker made you and your shaky legs stand up and walk the walk of shame. Then, you had to proyect the silly video, which in handsight, wasn't funny anymore. While some of your classmates laughed, that didn't lessen how humilliated you felt.

It had happened during your first year at university, on a subject you really couldn't care less and when you were still (practically) a baby; freshly eighteen. But now you were twenty, almost finishing your career, and the shaky insecure teenager was long gone, replaced by a secure (albeit a bit of a bitch), confident woman.

That had been your first encounter with professor Pascal.

You have to give him some credit: he is kind of the reason why you did a full 180 on your personality.

But life always comes back to bite you in the ass.

"What do you mean you're sick?" you scoff, "we were supposed to go to Dave's party tonight!"

Your friend lets out a cough that sounds borderline animalistic.

"First of all, don't come closer. I'll pass it to you" Jin speaks up, voice rough from the earlier death-threatening cough. "And second, do you think I care about a stupid party? I'm dying here"

"Don't be so dramatic" you roll your eyes.

"Hello? Didn't you hear that cough?!" he sounds offended, reinforcing the feeling by throwing one of his used tissues at you. You dodge his lame throw with a yuck. "I think you're devoid of empathy"

"Well, thank Mr. Pascal for that"

Jin wasn't your friend when that happened, but when you became buddies, he eventually came to know about your beef with the older man. Yes, beef, because after the Reel Deal (as you both have come to call it), he made your life impossible. If it weren't for your skills and intelligence, you'd probably fail his subject. Mr. Pascal gave you the hardest time ever: be it pairing you with the absolute worst students or making your assigments more difficult, for an "unknown" reason.

Eventually, even after such a traumatic experience and subject being way behind, it became a staple in your duo to bring him up everytime something negative happened or was mentioned.

("You're so funny!")

("Thanks, a professor pushing fifty made my life impossible when I was eighteen")

But here's an even funnier thing: for unknown reasons, Jin became his TA last semester. Probably he didn't know that you were friends, and that has to be the reason he's actually a decent human being towards the younger boy. I'm telling you, Jin would insist, the whole mean asshole shtick is propaganda!

"Talking about him..."

"Stop" you raise your hand dramatically, "enough bad news today"

"You can still go to the party, you know?" he giggles, earning another cough that practically leaves him voiceless. "Why do you insist on taking me? I don't know this people!"

Jin was two years older your senior.

"But it's not fun without you!" you insisted on dragging him around everywhere after you met because he tutored you. "Who will I bore with all my failed flirting attempts?"

"Thank God, not me" he ignores your pout. "Besides, wasn't like Marcos insisting you went with him? There's your chance!"

"But Marcos is boring..." you draw out, "and I need a man who makes me laugh"

"You can't really ask for that much in this economy"

Okay, here's the deal: there's another reason you can't let go of the Mr. Pascal subject, and it's not because of the beef. Hell, Jin can't know about this or he'll never let you live.

The answer is quite simple: as infuriating as he is, Mr. Pascal is hot. Like, middle-aged hot, with the greying hair and face marked by lines that tell time. If it wasn't for him you'd probably never discover your preference towards more... aged meat. You should be furious, and you were, but during all your petty arguments over topics or slides that didn't deserve to be reviewed for more than five minutes, the fire that ignited in your lower belly? You've never felt it before, and if that managed to get you more hot and bothered than a fresh boy ready to kiss your lips, neck and below? Well, that's a serious issue.

But it was his voice, that treated you with such vitriol, a deep and rich sound reserved just for you, or be it the way his auburn eyes seem to catch fire whenever you opened your mouth, dark forests burning in flames that threathened to reduce it all to ashes; yo were eager, anticipating the burn.

He saw your defiance, and instead of putting you in your place, he matched that wild rageful spirit of yours that refused to be tamed.

And that you liked, despite the history of hate between you.

"What about him?" you appear nonchalant, while retouching your makeup for the party.

"About him who?" Jin quips, "we just talked about two fine men-"

"The much older man"

A weird smirk forms across his lips. "Sure, of course"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. But it will be fun, nonetheless" he sits up straight from his previous surrendered position on the couch. "So, remember how I'm his TA, right?"

"Yes?" you pause. "Wait, if this is for me to help you check again more homeworks, no. I am not helping you read a hundred papers again for free"

"They weren't a hundred!" he barks. "Besides, it's not that"

"Then?" you press, not admiting how interested you were.

"Do you see my poor state?" you nod, not understaning where he's going. "Then, you're aware I'm not capacitated to do said task as of right now"

"I'm aware" you repeat, "what I'm not, is what does that have to do with me?" you resume your activity, going for your eyeliner. "So much mystery when you could've just said it in a pass"

"I need you to cover up for me"

The liquid eyeliner paints a line across half of your face. "What?!"

He laughs at your reaction, "You heard me"

You leave the mirror, now focusing your attention on him. "It's not April Fools yet, Jin. Heads up, it was a terrible prank"

Even if it made you hot to have such dynamic with your former IM professor, you weren't exactly keen on seeing him again. For you, he had turned into a memory slash fantasy at some point: an asshole that got your panties wet and pussy slick when you touched yourself at night, on behalf of all the dumb uni boys who couldn't reach that sweet spot of yours. What a dirty girl, his velvet voice on your head would say. Why are you touching yourself to your supposed foe, a much older guy? Fucking slut. Yeah, there was no way you'd go back to the real thing for the real him to taint the image you got off almost every night to, so he could say your name in that animosity that leaked with a barely contained rage and poorly disguised distate that left a bitter taste on your mouth, ego and self-steem on the ground. Because the truth is, no matter how much you argued back, he always won. You had just found your voice, but all efforts to bring him down seemed powerless, and he had won every single battle: even if he didn't have the last word, just with a look, he made you feel small, stupid and meaningless.

Nope. Not going back.

"And you have a terrible way of coping" he's quick to counter back. "Listen, it's not so bad. You just have to do meaningless tasks and pretend to be interested. Simple, right? Look, those extra credits could be useful, you know? And you excelled the class, y/n. Easy!"

"You're making it sound trouble-free as if the man doesn't hate me"

"He's definitely forgotten about it!" he waves his hand, dissmisively. "Probably jokes about it, like us!"

"Mr. Pascal doesn't seem the type of guy to have humor"

"Humor me, then" Jin sighs. "Do this for me, yes? When have I ever failed you?"

You wish for some sense to get into his skull. Had he forgotten every single anecdote?

"Think of all those times where I've taken you home, carried you drunk. Or the sad heart breaks I've been through with you, remember? Brought you ice cream and watched your favorite movies. Or when I used to tutor you? Or-"

"Enough of your emotional manipulation, Mr. Kim" you shake your head, dissapointed, all to avoid the quiet rage to settle in. "I thought better of you"

"It's for a week. Days if this pills do a miracle" his big black eyes look at you, pleading.

"Jin, you're not being a very good friend"

"It's just this one favor" he sighs. "Look, I can't loose this thing, okay? I get the credits I need to finally leave this shithole. If I don't show up, they'll hand it to someone else. You may not believe it, but it's very demanded"

People making lines to be emotionally abused by your former IM professor? Sure thing!

"Can't you tell someone, though? I'm sure they'll understand and you can go back once this cold is gone"

"I already did so, and they told me to show up or quit, due to the wait list of people applying for the position" you roll your eyes at your university's antics and their bullshit policies. "I don't trust anyone else to not fuck it up, but you. You'll just have to tell him about this minor inconvenience, and Mr. Pascal will understand. You know, I'm kind of his favorite guy in there..."

Great, just what you needed.

"Sorry to break it to you, but as soon as I walk through that door, all that pretty boy privilege would be gone"

"Please, y/n. Please"

"You'll never ask me any other favor?"

"No" he looks rather desperate; it's funny. "Hell, you can use the lake cabin for your birthday bash if you-"

"Deal"

Were you that easy to buy, huh? What does that say about you? Fucking ass sell-out.

Okay, but a birthday party in that all glass modern cabin with a deck and a jacuzzi does sound tempting. Who could be blamed? Not you, who will have to face her biggest foe in exchange for one wild bash.

You take a deep breath, imagining the lake water splashing and champagne on the deck (ugh, Jin's parents had a waterbike too. They were loaded), before knocking on his office. The door flings open, almost hitting you in the face, and there he is: Mr. Pascal, with his brown hair with white on the sides, loose curl over his face. Your fingers definitely don't itch to touch it, of course.

He's sporting a grumpy look (when doesn't he?), his big hands (you had forgotten how big they were) holding a bunch of papers (great, work!).

"Goddamn it, Jin. I was about to call you for standing me up, you know I hate when people don't tell me-"

He stops on his tracks, and that all too familiar scowl deepens his face.

"You"

Seethed with such venom, it's quite scary. Your legs tremble, yet your pussy clenches.

"Yes, me" you can't help but let out a little laugh at his antics. What did Jin said about him not remembering you? Well, can't be blamed; you weren't easy to forget.

His jaw clenches while looking down at you, but this time, you don't dare to flinch.

"What are you doing here?"

"See, Jin is my friend-"

He interrupts you, body frame resting on the door with a relaxed posture, but his shoulder looks tense.

"Oh, I liked him. Liked, as in past tense" he emphasizes, like a child throwing a tantrum. "How can a kid like him be friends with you?"

"We're best friends, thank you very much. As a matter of fact, I'm here as a favor" you hand him Jin's written apology, that may have one or two sneezes over it. "He's sick, and I'll cover him for a week, just so he doesn't loose the position. Said you would understand"

"I do" he replies on an instant, "you I don't"

"I passed your subject. With honors, even after you made my life impossible" you reply. "I'm the best candidate, face it"

He's rendered speechless for a moment, before he bites back:

"What makes you think I won't do it again?"

Now it's you who doesn't know what to say. It's infuriating how he still keeps winning.

"That's right" a wicked smile adorns his face. "Stay and find out"

Boy, don't you love a challenge?

So you stayed, much to his surprise. The bastard probably thought you were still the same scaredy mouse from first year.

Oh, it was delicious the way his whole face fell at your entrance next morning, how he quickly replaced it and introduced you in a clipped tone.

"Where's Jin?" a girl sitting in the front row had asked, more students joining to ask for his absence. You wonder if your friend's popularity stems from his brain or looks.

"He's sick" you answered. "But don't worry, he'll be back soon"

"Thank God" Mr. Pascal voices out loud.

You shoot him a look. He wasn't joking about not making it easy, was he?

"Oh, I didn't take you as a man of faith, Mr. Pascal, but you're right. It's important to thank our Lord everyday. So, thank Him for this week where I get to offer my suffering. In reward" you turn to face him, all the class silent as they take in your weird exchange, the atmosphere tense, "I'll never see your face again"

This time, you weren't going down without a fight.

"We'll see about that"

There it was: the fire to your gasoline.

So you pushed back, and argued everytime you disagreed, things that weren't part of your work but you still did because well, if he was still hellbent on making you suffer, you weren't going to make it easy for him this time.

If students argued against him, you took their side; even if just one did, you had their back.

You finished grading, but when returning the papers, you'd let them fall with a heavy thud over his desk, not even daring to look back.

At the time he'd talk to you, you wouldn't answer, instead just doing so, but no words to be uttered his way, as if he wasn't worth the effort. Not even a clipped okay.

And you enjoyed this; savored how he'd take every one of your petty actions with his full chest, eyebrows furrowed and face red in anger, but never answering, just silent, like deep in thought, a cold and calculated look overtaking his brown eyes.

Then the veins on his neck would pop as the ones of his tight white-knuckled grip on his mug. He'd speak up, and his voice had your legs shaking for some friction, wet spots now more often on your lingerie.

That he didn't know.

All he did was you were now more than a pebble on his shoe: a huge fucking stone, going down the hill, ready to squash him.

But boy, didn't he love a challenge?

It's Friday, aka last day of Torture Week.

You drop the quizzes for next Monday on his desk with the same harsh movement you had done all week.

"And it's over" you announce, papers plopping next to him, who is writing something. Mr. Pascal's hand moves, his L much longer than it should be. He looks up at you, annoyed, but his eyes flash with a hint of amusement.

"I see you can talk"

"Well, you already know me, Mr. Pascal. So you should be aware of what I can do"

"Love if you'd enlighten me"

He leans back on his chair, arms resting behind his head. It's hard not to take a brief glance to the flexing muscles, or how he's rolled up his sleeves, arms bulking up with the action, the fabric tense. It's hot in here. Wait, or has it gotten hot? Your face feels red, and when he catches your lingering gaze, he smiles devilishly.

"Like what you see, Ms. Y/n?"

No. You refuse to let him win this again, so close to the end.

"The release from prison?" you regain your posture, "very much"

"You may be a loud-mouthed brat, always knowin' what to say. I'll give that to you" he props himself to the front, elbows now resting on the desk as his eyes scan yours with a shade of dark covering them. "But a good liar you ain't"

You try to remain still, face emotionless, but your professor is a man of experience; an expert on his field. He who investigates, who has majored to be able to notice every small detail that can contribute to a hypothesis, has now formulated his.

You want this as much as he wants to.

You, with your wobbly legs and nervous eyes, glancing up at him with a hungry gaze that matches his own, despite your angry posture and irritated tone. You, that picked up petty arguments just to rile him up, because you liked the command for power on his voice. You like this, didn't you? Feeling small and weak, fangs pointy, just barely gracing the skin; the edge what set your skin on fire.

He isn't one to hold grudges (he's just mean all the time), but Pedro is willing to show you he hasn't forgotten about the years, and he'll be more than willing to fuck that bitchy attitude out of you.

"Hello?" you snap your fingers in front of him, "are you there?"

He snaps back to reality, your face covering his vision. In his position, he gets rewarded with a delicious peak at your breasts and the nude lingerine hiding them. He can imagine the perked nipples and the rosy plush skin he'd love to trace his tongue with, because even when you speak in a harsh voice, your eyes speak another thing. Fuck, he thinks he can even smell your arousal.

"I was talking to you" you don't even give him room to reply; snotty ass. "Said I was already leaving"

He thinks of himself as merciful. So he stands up, your bodies barely brushing against each other for a second, before he's opening the door, towering over you. He's so close, you can see the grey hairs mixed with the brown ones on his beard and mustache. God, you can smell him: coffee, cigarrettes, sandalwood and leather.

"You're free, Ms. Y/n" he follows your line of joke from before. "Just, humor me with one last thing"

You glance over at the clock above his desk. It's barely noon.

"Yes?" as dry as possible.

"Why did you accept?"

It's a simple question, really, but it manages to catch you off guard.

His tone is so different, maybe that's why: it's low, impossibly low. For less attentive people, it could even pass as a growl. But you hear, the amusement and dare laced within the velvety tone.

"Because I'm a good friend" you manage to speak, his body caging your smaller frame against the door.

This is ridiculous. You can leave at any time. Hello? Have your legs not gotten the memo?

"I didn't think you were capable of good things"

You huff, annoyed. "Well, I passed your subject, didn't I?"

He clicks his tongue.

"Many before you, and more after you have. Doesn't make you special, y/n"

Your name alone leaves a savory and toxic sweetness on his tongue.

"But how many of those you remember?" Mr. Pascal shots up an eyebrow, confused. "Tell me, how many can you name? That's right. I changed your life, whether you like it or not"

He's quick to reply. "Bullshit"

"Bullshit" you mock his angry tone, "but you recognized me the moment you opened the door. It didn't even take you seconds, hell, you hadn't even fully seen me and you knew who I was. Doesn't take a great investigator to figure it out, does it? So I take you missed me"

He can't believe your fucking mouth.

But then Pedro's remembering the way his pants tightened when you started to stand up to him, getting even worse when he still managed to shut you up. Fuck, the way you had smirked when you approved his subject during your last project delivery. He let you, because well, you had earned it: for the way your image had been the perfect companion for his hand pistoning his cock will full force, thinking of that loud mouth of yours gagged with it. Or when you walked past him in the hallways, wrapped in your own little bubble, your carefree laugh erupting and bouncing off the walls, tickling every hair of his body.

Part of him had accepted Jin to be his TA if that meant having a piece of you, even if a small connection, to you. Did you think he wouldn't know? That he wouldn't see you walking by in those small skirts that rode over when you bent? He noticed you; after all, you were in the same place most of your day.

You had excelled his subject after all, hadn't you?

So of course you'd notice his stare lingering in your back like a hand over your ass. How his eyes would dart to the skirts you wore on purpose, attentive to the moment you'd drop a pen on accident and your panties would be on sight, a wet spot in the middle you hadn't even noticed that smelled. Fuck, and wasn't it sweet?

You really feel like you have won this, don't you?

"Miss you?" Pedro hisses the words out. "I didn't miss you. What I think is happenin', is that me missing you is what you want"

"And I think you're repeating the same words and fumbling thoughts because you're a big egocentric prideful asshole who can't admit he's got the hots for his younger student"

"God. Don't you have such a filthy mouth, baby?"

Before he can register and you've fully let the nickname sink, your hand slaps his face with a potent movement that reverberates across his office's walls.

"You're a fucking piece of work, Mr. Pascal" but instead of being offended (or you don't know, fight back?), he remains silent. "You dirty old spoiled prick. Think I would never fight you back? That you can get away with whatever this is?"

"Whatever this is?" he chuckles, a sound rumbling deep from his chest. "Well, pretty girl, ain't you started this?"

He looms over you, hot breath carressing your face softly.

"Me? Unbelievable" you scoff. "You're one to talk, humiliating a poor freshman"

"Poor? You were distracted, in my class! Did your parents never teach you manners?!" his words leave droplets of spit that land in your face. "I had to put your stupid ass in place; that'll teach you something"

"Like what?" you taunt, recklessly, chest up and down with uneven breaths.

"I see it didn't work" his body language does an immediate switch. You remember a predator ready to strike their prey. "Maybe I should've tried harder"

His eyes do a wild dance over your body as so do yours.

Lip. Eyes. Skin. Cleavage. His tight pants. Biceps. Legs. Hair.

Before you can register, he's got you pinned against his desk, door closed in a loud move. There's a click sound somewhere in between, but you're too busy feeling his big hands grabbing your face roughly, as if he wants to consume your skin and feel your very bones on his calloused tips.

His lips are impossibly wet and eager, hands needily gropping your body. He pushes all his weight over you as he deepens the kiss, his tongue now inside your mouth, making you falter.

You let out a breathy moan when your back hits the desk, the wood digging your skin, but he swallows it whole, making it impossible for you to talk.

"Mmph-"

"Mmph?" he mocks between kisses, not giving you the chance to take a breath, or maybe he was scared you would get the time to think and would push him away. "Just my mouth got you all worked up, baby? Can't even speak"

Your fingers run through his hair for support, curls between your fingers. They felt soft, like they were meant to be combed through over and over again. He dives his head in your neck, hot mouth wet with its trail of kisses, making you squirm.

"I see" his breath ghosts over your reddened skin, "you wanted this just as much, don't you? This boys aren't enough for you?"

Every hair on your body prickles, his mouth claiming every spot he could, bites and hickeys all over your skin. You whine, pouting your lips, missing his already.

"It's okay, baby" he laughs, "just gotta show them who's enough for you" he grunts, "a man"

Mr. Pascal takes off your shirt, well, basically rips the poor thing, his hands relieved to finally touch your breasts. He roughly grabs one of them, and you bite your lip so hard, you almost feel the bitter metallic taste in your mouth. He lowers himself, despite his aching joints, to play with your hardened nipples, lapping them with his warm tongue, sucking and swirling until they turn swollen.

Your hand finds its way to his formal pants, fingers gracing over the fabric, feeling his cock straining against it. Just like you imagined it: big, like his presence. If it could, your pussy would jump in excitement, realistically just throbbing and leaking.

You untie his belt and buttons so you can begin to rub over his boxers. You can feel him trying to meet your touches, grinding onto your palm. He groans, deeply, enjoying your hungry stare, steady beat, parted lips and wet cunt.

He bucks his hips against you, propping himself on the wall behind his desk, which had moved from its original position thanks to the mayhem.

"You clearly don't know what you got yourself into, baby. But don't worry, I ain't letting you go just yet"

He pulls the skirt up, revealing the damp panties and mess between your legs. He licks his lips before rough digits find your wet folds. His fingers carress your impossibly tight walls, coating them with your slick.

"So fucking tight" he groans against your collarbones, "thought of yourself as uptight but I can fucking smell you dripping, you dirty slut. Could tell you loved provoking me becayse that's the only way your snotty ass can get off"

"F-fuck you, Mr. Pascal" you manage to choke out.

"Where are your manners? After how I've rewarded your big mouth, you bitch" he takes off your panties with skilled practice, the piece falling to the floor with a weak sound. Your bare cunt makes you shiver. "You think you're smart, baby? You think you can play these games and face no consequences at all?" he tuts. "No, Ms. Y/n, you know I hate wastin' my time, so be a good girl and don't make this harder for you, get that?"

You whine at his words, but refuse to shut your mouth.

"Oh, I'm smart" you laugh, "smart enough to have you on your knees for me"

An ugly grin spreads across his features.

"I will never bend for a bratty pretentious slut like you" he grips your hair with force, leaving your neck exposed, "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, stupid cock hungry whore. You wanted my attention? It's all yours"

Then, with a low, almost feral growl, he grabs your hips and hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sweeps the papers and books onto the floor with a clatter, setting you down on the edge.

"You better behave, baby" Mr. Pascal bites your lower lip, "don't want people to know what we're doing in here, do you? Or would you want them to know just how much of a slut you are, spread on my desk as your cunt drips for me?"

He steps between your legs, pushing them further apart, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He leans in, his face inches from yours, voice low in a threatening rasp.

"I'll behave, I promise" mind in blank.

"No loud mouth bitchy stuck up attitude?"

You free his cock, hands scouting his shaft, his base, and balls. You fondled them while his fingers lingered closer to your pussy.

"No"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked stupid and used for my pleasure? Well, get ready, because I'm not going to stop until I've had my fill of this sweet little cunt"

He savors at the sight of your glistening folds.

"Let me-"

He laughs, seeing how you desire to guide his cock towards your entrance.

"Eager, little one?" he teases.

"Yes" you whimper, "I need you so badly, papi"

Your plea mixed with Spanish sends him on edge. His eyes darken with a primal, almost feral hunger at your desperate plea.

His voice is strained, rough with barely restrained lust.

"Fuck, you needy little thing. You want to take my dick until this desk breaks?"

He rubs the swollen head of his dick against your dripping slit, coating it in your arousal. Then, with one powerful thrust, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in your tight, hot cunt.

"So tight" he groans, starting to move and setting a brutal pace from the very beginning. The desk shakes and creaks beneath you with each forceful thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the empty office. He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your clit. He sets a relentless, punishing rhythm, determined to fuck you into oblivion.

It's a goddamn view in here: him above you, droplets of sweat falling to your face, pristine hair now disheveled.

At this point, you were clenching so hard it hurt, walls fluttering around his massive girth. But he's greedy, and he's pushing himself deeper and deeper.

"Runnin' your mouth but now all quiet as you take all of me, hungry greedy whore" he digs his fingers into your cheeks harshly, but you find pleasure in the sting the pain causes. "Bet this is all you been thinking since you started talking back, huh? Don't worry, daddy's got you"

Surprisingly, he leans down, capturing your mouth in a dominating kiss, tongue invading your mouth. His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly, a silent reminder of who you belong to.

"God. You're wet everywhere, baby"

His sweaty chest presses itself onto your tits as he forced his cock deeper within you, the plaid shirt sticking with sweat to his ablazed body, temperature high.

"T-the desk" you protest numbly; mind-fucked.

And oh, boy, doesn't he enjoy this view? Your fluttering eyelids, hazy eyes and trembling body.

So he keeps fucking you: pounding into you, rolling his hips skillfully, taking up all the space within you.

"I don't give a damn fuck about the desk, Ms. Y/n. I'm gonna fuck that attitude of yours until all you know is my name" he leans down, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. His hands grip your hips with bruising force, pulling you harder against him with each violent thrust. "Gonna break the desk, hell, fuck you on the floor if necessary, but you ain't leaving this office until my cum drips from your legs and everyone knows your tight little cunt is mine"

The desk groans and wobbles beneath you, the legs scraping against the floor as Pedro fucks you with wild abandon. The sound of your moans and the crude, wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely in the room.

His pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust, the rough friction sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting up your spine. His cock hits that perfect spot inside you, the one that makes your toes curl and your back arch off the desk.

He feels your walls starting to flutter around him, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches. Mr. Pascal leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a dark, intimate rasp.

"Why don't you be a good girl and tell daddy how good he's making you feel? Show me and everyone else what a desperate little slut you are, waiting for me to fill you up nicely with my seed"

He makes out of you a loud mess, a series of sweet sounds falling from your lips. You clench and he twitches, his digits holding your waist, keeping you in place for him.

"Good girl" he praises, "now you're gonna take it all, milk me dry, you greedy cocksleeve"

His thrusts become erratic and sloppier. The older man can feel your walls starting to flutter around him, body tensing as your orgasm approaches. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a dark, intimate rasp.

"Will you be a good girl?"

"Yes!" you cry out, "don't stop!"

You hated this humilliation, how easy it is for him to fuck you with his big cock. You fucking hated him. But didn't he make you feel so good.

"Then come on my cock, bitch"

You didn't think it was capable, no, but you did. A first, another first when it came to Mr. Pascal.

You squirt. You fucking squirted.

Pedro lets out a feral roar of triumph when your pussy spasms around his pistoning cock, your release gushing out and soaking his dick and the desk, papers and shit beneath you (no, not the quizzes! You had printed them this morning). He savors the way you throw your head back, eyes rolling until they turn white on your fucked-out face.

"Such a sweet cunt, baby" he praises. "Milk me dry, come on"

Your slick walls milking him dry pushes him over the edge, clenching around him, and he knew it was over. He snaps, arching his back as he roughly moans. With one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself balls-deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he starts to come. Thick, scorching ropes of cum paint your insides, flooding your womb with his potent seed, still pushing the remnants inside when he grinds against you, his pelvis pressed tight to yours as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm. His grip on your hips tightens, fingermarks surely to be left in the soft flesh as he holds you in place, ensuring you take every last drop of his release.

"That's it, pretty baby. Can't even speak, can you?" he captures your mouth in a deep, dominating kiss. Like he owns you. "As you can see, I'm a man of my word"

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly. His eyes, when they meet yours, are dark and intense, filled with a primal, almost feral satisfaction.

It's humilliating, really, how your lips search for more. You need him, badly, despite how shit he treats you and how wrong all of this is. Is this a win or a loose?

"Good girl" he repeats, his sweaty forehead clashing against yours. The desk creaks yet again. You love when he praises you, and you whine on instintic, making him laugh. "Learned your place just yet? Listen carefully, Ms. Y/n: no matter what you do or say, I'll always win, get it? And you'll be nothing but a needy uptight slut who begs for my attention and cock"

He pulls out of you slowly, his softening dick slipping from your well-used hole with a gush of their combined releases. He tucks himself away, doing up his pants with quick, efficient movements. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, smearing a streak of his cum across it.

"Go on. Taste it, and tell me how it feels"

Your tongue does a lazy movement, making your lips moist thanks to the saliva and his cum, like a fucking gloss. You shouldn't enjoy this, really, but your body shivers when you feel the taste of him going down your throat as you swallow.

"Good" you manage to speak, salt on the tip of your tongue.

"Good" he repeats, voice low and menacing, "because we're just getting started"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

[sturniololuvz]

pls do a fic of the sturniolos sister getting home drunk/high

yesss!!!! btw i made these triplets get mad at her so please don’t be mad , i just love me some good fighting 😏🩷

“What Were You Thinking?”

Sturniolos x sister reader

Warnings : drunk, yelling , confronting

The clock on the wall read 2:07 AM.

Nick, Matt, and Chris sat stiffly on the couch, their eyes glued to the front door. The room was eerily silent except for the occasional frustrated sigh from Matt or the way Chris’s foot tapped aggressively against the floor.

“She should’ve been home hours ago,” Nick muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s not answering her phone. What if something happened to her?”

Chris clenched his fists. “If she thinks she can just roll in here like nothing happened, she’s dead.”

Matt’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care what her excuse is. She had us worried sick.”

Just then, the doorknob rattled, followed by the sound of a clumsy shoulder hitting the door before it finally swung open.

Y/N stood in the doorway, her hair a mess, eyes half-lidded, and a sloppy grin on her face. She stumbled forward, barely managing to kick off her shoes.

“Heyyyy,” she slurred, waving at her brothers as if she hadn’t just walked into an ambush. “Wha—what are you guys doing up?”

The room was silent for a second.

Then, Chris shot up from the couch.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!” he yelled, his voice booming through the living room. “It’s two in the goddamn morning! Where the hell have you been?”

Y/N winced, rubbing her temple. “Shhhh, Chrissy, don’t yell… my head hurts.”

“Oh, your head hurts?” Matt snapped, standing up next. His face was red with anger. “We’ve been sitting here for hours, worrying about you, blowing up your phone, thinking you were in a ditch somewhere! And you just waltz in here drunk?”

Nick crossed his arms, his voice sharp but quieter. “Do you even realize how selfish this is?” He shook his head. “You didn’t text us, didn’t call, nothing. You didn’t even think about how we’d feel.”

Y/N waved them off lazily, stumbling towards the stairs. “You guys are overreacting. I was just… at a party. Having fun.”

Chris scoffed. “Fun?! You can’t even walk straight, Y/N! What if something happened to you? What if you got in a car with some asshole, or got hurt, or—or—”

“You could’ve died, Y/N!” Matt interrupted, his voice cracking with emotion. “And we wouldn’t have known until it was too late because you didn’t even bother to tell us where you were!”

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples again. “Can you stop yelling? God, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Chris’s eyes darkened. “Not that big of a deal?” His voice dripped with disbelief. “You’re our little sister. We’re supposed to protect you! But we can’t if you don’t tell us where you are, if you don’t pick up your damn phone, if you just—”

He cut himself off, his hands shaking with anger.

Matt exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re grounded. I don’t care if you’re seventeen. You’re not going out for a long time.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You can’t ground me. I’m almost an adult.”

Nick’s eyes snapped to her. “Then act like one.” His voice was low, but the disappointment in it cut deeper than the yelling. “Adults don’t get wasted and ignore their family when they’re worried sick. You’re being reckless, Y/N.”

Y/N bit her lip, suddenly feeling the guilt sink in. The way they were looking at her—hurt, exhausted, furious—made her stomach twist.

Chris shook his head. “I can’t even look at you right now,” he muttered, storming off to his room.

Matt sighed, running a hand down his face before following Chris. “Go to bed, Y/N. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

That left just Nick, who studied her carefully. “You scared us, Y/N,” he said softly, but his eyes were still filled with disappointment. “You really scared us.”

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a lot smaller than before. “…I’m sorry.”

Nick nodded slightly, but it was clear he wasn’t ready to forgive her just yet. “Go to bed.”

She obeyed, dragging herself upstairs, her head spinning—not just from the alcohol, but from the reality of how badly she had messed up.

[whysoblue2]

Random word babble you can ignore about Shamura and Kallamar, but it's kind of fun to imagine the years when Shamura was still mostly a war god but they were also a new older brother to Kallamar and how that likely manifested at first.

Gods in general are pretty known for their selfishness, so I always end up imagining Shamura being a bit overprotective with Kallamar for a little bit and especially very possessive over Kallamar in general for longer while also being both more tending/loving and more aggressive in their actions to and about Kallamar because they're still, ya know, learning to chillax.

Which ends up with Kallamar being very confused in general and even more scared but also, at least a little bit, relieved and happy to finally have a safe space in Shamura. I can also definitely see Kallamar seeing Shamura as a sibling first before Shamura saw him as a little brother, but those feelings hit Shamura HARD in the gut, they weren't prepared at all. And it's just nice to think about

Oh, you make a lot of good points and I can see it! 

And sorry for the incoming wall of text, have a suffering Kall for your journey, friend!

When I wrote the chapter about Kall, I hinted at how their relationship worked in those years they were alone. 

To me, Shamura never really wanted to be a big sibling when he met Kall. They spared him out of pity and convenience because this squidling still had some power to unlock that they could exploit in their grand scheme of killing deities to reform a new pantheon.

So why was Kall always scared and insanely good with weapons? (yeah he was definitely the hardest fight for me, like 10 times harder than Shamura so I don't know if this is common or I just sucked, but it's part of my hc now). 

The first years they were together, it was hell for Kall! Shamura was brutal in their teachings and didn't care to be gentle or compassionate, even less empathic, all things that Kall is. 

So they taught him to fight, to kill and to go against his natural calling for healing by unlocking the power to harm with sickness. They did that through violence, through "tough love" cause ffs, god of war and all that. 

In my head, the scar on Kall's left eye is Shamura's doing, a mark they left to remind him who is in charge and that they could kill him any moment they wanted.

Things started to change slowly over the years. Kall was the one who "taught" Shamura love, and yes, I am 100% with you on the protective and possessive attitude. Kall became a precious ally, good at his powers, older, and an object of attention.

Kall indeed saw Shamura as a bigger sibling first to try and give meaning to that twisted Stockholm syndrome he was experiencing. He would love his jailer because he thought he could change them and make them better, heal them while being terrified of them.

The relationship evolved eventually, but I can see Shamura not letting Kall out of their sight, killing suitors or friends and imagining them as spies or assassins that could harm his precious little brother. 

You know "I do it for you, I love you and I want to keep you always safe"

Then Kall started to be more independent and they probably hated that, but they needed him for god-killing so they had to let him go and do his thing. 

When things got more chill, Shamura really loved Kall as much as Kall loved them, but I imagine that underneath the care and niceness that they showed to the other siblings, the feeling toward Kall would still be unconsciously toxic and possessive.

SO conclusions: I feel their relationship is unique compared to the other siblings. Kall has seen the very worst of Shamura and lived with them during that time. That gotta hurt, that is trauma. And that's why our favourite squid is scared all the time.

Thanks for the ask, I love rambling!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Doppelgänger

Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst, self-image issues, mentions of childhood trauma, addiction, our mans has had it rough as fuck™

A/N: Brought on by this post from @tarjapearce and the comments i made (I'm sorry i am a ho for some angst sometimes) I'm merging ATSV stuff with comic stuffs because NO WAY IS HIS MOVIE DESIGN LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE WITHOUT IT POSSIBLY COMING UP IN FUTURE MOVIES ASDFGHJKL

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You came home and it was quiet. Quiet and dark; and already you knew something was up. You left Miguel sleeping so you could attend to some meetings and paperwork at your office, and pick up a few groceries.

Miguel had been acting strange the past few days. You'd asked him if it had something to do with work and he simply shrugged the question aside, like it was a small chip on one of his broad shoulders.

You'd asked him what was bothering him again, and he simply stared at the carpet, muttering something you didn't quite catch, and he went straight to bed.

You were so worried you'd even texted Gabriel on your walk home:

Hey, Gabe...

Heyyyy! If it ain't my favorite brother's girlfriend!

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a soft snort. You only have one brother, Gabe.

No no, chica, I meant that you're my favorite of any girlfriends he's ever had. 😂

Gabe that sounds a little... Bad. 😬

Does it? Woops! Anyways, what's up? My big dumb, brick-house brother do something to make you mad?

No, Gabe... He's acting weird. Has been for the past few days, and he won't open up to me. I'm worried.

You could see the chat bubble pop up over and over again with '...' signifying that he was in the process of texting. With how many times it popped up and went away you were expecting a bible scripture's length of a text wall.

But what you got instead made your heart sink.

He saw our mom. She... She brought up Tyler.

Oh, god. You knew that Miguel and Conchata had a rocky relationship. Miguel had told you why. It was so bad, even just recalling everything, that you felt Miguel's pain like it was your own.

You also knew that Miguel's biological father, Tyler Stone, was the one that manipulated him, that used him, got him addicted to Rapture and almost killed him...

But it wasn't even the real dose of Rapture. It was simulated. Just another manipulation tactic. It was overhearing that conversation that Miguel found out the truth of his heritage, and you could tell that nugget of knowledge permanently chipped his sense of identity.

Even moreso when he confessed to you about Gabriela--

Your phone pinged.

They fought. It was... It was ugly. I... I didn't know about Tyler. God, chica, I didn't know. Dad was...

You felt your heart flop, knowing poor Gabriel was shielded by Miguel for so long so he didn't have to suffer like he did at the hands of their gaslighting and manipulative mother, his sadistic sperm donor... Miguel wanted nothing more than to protect Gabriel from that pain.

Your fingers flew fast on the little keyboard, a few spelling errors here and there;

God, Gabri im sory you had to fidn out that way

I know. It figures Miguel would have told you, before me, tho. He loves you.

He loves you too, Gabri. God, more than you know. He loves you.

I know. He was trying to keep me safe and out of Mom's drama.

No offense, Gabri, but if I ever see that woman I'm rearranging her face with a shovel.

OMG. I mean... After the things she said to Miggy, I... Kind of want her to at least feel consequences of her actions, y'know?

Oh, she will. Don't worry. Thanks for telling me this, Gabri.

Go cuddle my big brother and tell him I love him, k? Let me know how he's doing.

OMW home now, I'll text you when he's feeling better.

KK, see ya.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Yeah. You knew for sure Miguel was still heartbroken when you came home after that.

You put the groceries away, a somber expression on your face as a million thoughts went through your head.

God, of course Conchata had to come see Gabriel at the same time Miguel was there. You wouldn't be surprised if either she could have tabs kept on him, just to... to try and lord her power over him somehow, like he was still that scared little boy, holding onto his baby brother, being his shield and buffer from their parents' fights.

That bitch had to have had a hand in Tyler using him the way that he did, that she had to have known about--

Your mind was knocked away from those dark thoughts when you heard glass shatter.

You dropped the bag of apples onto the ground, the fruits tumbling out and rolling across the floor as you made a mad dash to your bedroom.

Noting Miguel wasn't in there, you turned to the adjoining bathroom door, seeing faint light come down from below, small wafts of steam rolling out.

"Miguel?" You frantically called out, knocking on the door and leaning your ear against the smooth metal.

You could hear shuffling and the tinkling of glass shards, as well as the shower running; but no verbal reply.

You knocked on the door again, hurried and a little too hard, your fingers hovering over the control panel.

Before you could push a button, the door slid open.

Miguel was in nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning over your bathroom sink, his hands gripping the marble countertops, threatening to crack the material. Beads of water rolled down his muscular, tanned skin; droplets of water dripped from the ends of his thick, wavy chocolate locks, the natural curls more apparent thanks to the water.

That's when you noticed it. Your bathroom mirror, shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering the counter, floor, and in the sink.

Bright, scarlet droplets were on the floor, steadily building into small puddle from his right hand, his knuckles split, shards of the reflective material sticking out of it.

"I'll pay for it." His voice croaked out, unable to lift his eyes to meet your horrified gaze. "I just--"

"Oh, god! Miggy!" You breathed, reaching out, taking a step towards him, only to wince and hiss when the pieces of broken mirror stabbed the soft, delicate soles of your feet.

You gritted your teeth as the glass crunched, but you grabbed Miguel.

Instantly it was like a switch flipped inside of him, Miguel's head snapped up and he looked down at you, seeing the bloody footprints you now left on your tile.

He looked terrified at what he was seeing. How you just ignored the shards in your body in favor of frantically digging around one of the cabinets for your first aid kit.

"Bebita... I..." Miguel choked out.

When you found it, you killed the shower and stepped into the glass once again, pulling him into your room, and onto your bed, your feet leaving bloody prints as you walked, like macabre rose petals being left in your wake. Miguel had a large enough stride that he was careful to avoid getting any in his feet, but the smell of your blood permeated the air, it made him sick to his stomach. Not with disgust.

With guilt.

Of course, you checked him over first, plucking out the shards of glass from his knuckles and cleaning the cuts out with wound wash, ignoring the blood welling up onto the tile floor of your bedroom from.

You carefully roll his hand as you try to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Miggy, can you hold your--"

"I'm sorry." He interrupts.

You looked up at him, and only then do you see his face. Framed in his wet curls, his face was shadowed and haunted, his eyes dark and as tumultuous in a maelstrom of anxiety and fear.

You bring your hand to his cheek, caressing one of his sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "Baby, it's okay. It's just a mirror, I can--"

He shook his head, as if your touch to his face burned him like a hot iron.

He leaned over, grabbing your legs and pulling your feet into his lap so he can assess the damage, and return the favor of cleaning and dressing them.

"You're hurt because of me." He whispered sadly, dabbing the blood away.

"I'm hurt because of the glass, honey." You tell him gently, letting him apply the "honey" to the cuts in your feet, sealing them.

His massive hands encapsulated your ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as the rough pads caressed your skin. Like you were made of the delicate gossamer of a butterfly's wing.

He sits like that, not meeting your eyes. And god, did that hurt you so badly. You knew how important eye contact was with Miguel, he almost always went out of his way to keep eye contact when he was conversing with someone. Having him avoid your eyes... hurt.

Because you knew he was hurting.

"Miggy." You breathed. "Talk to me."

You move your feet from his lap and scoot closer to him, moving your face until he locked eyes with you again, and you could see the pain and the tears fill his own as he looked at you; his full, pouty lips trembling in an effort to hold his emotions at bay.

His shoulders dropped low, and Miguel leans forward until he was practically bent in half, clinging to you, burying his face in your chest as he fisted your shirt in his hands.

You rubbed his shoulder with one hand, biting your lip as he softly cried into your blouse, your other hand combing through his messy wet hair.

You stayed like that, for what felt like hours. You weren't sure how long it was exactly, with the blackout curtains drawn and the lights off. The only light that dimly illuminated the room was from your bathroom, and the open door.

He finally calmed enough to speak, to explain why he shattered the mirror.

"...I look like him." Miguel said, his heart in his voice, his soul stripped down and naked with raw pain.

"Mig--"

"God, I look like him. That... that cabrón." He hissed, tugging your shirt in his fists.

"I look like that bastard that... that made me into this." The self-contempt in his voice broke your heart.

You kiss the top of his head, murmuring against him. "No, you don't, baby."

"Yes, I do!" He snapped, pulling himself away from you and throwing himself to his feet. He paced like an angry tiger in a cage, waiting to swat at whatever keeper dared enter his enclosure. He didn't notice that he was stepping into the sticky, dried blood trails you left.

"I have his--his face. His fucking face--" He said, gripping his hair in his hands, tugging as he started to hyperventilate. "My fucking nose, my fucking cheeks, my fucking lips--they're all him! I'm not allowed to be me, every time I look in the mirror I see him! I can't ever get away from him! He's a part of me, he always will be! I fucking look like him!"

You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your soles as you dared to reach out, to touch the pacing tiger.

Your hands smooth up his back, gently, softly; then back down until they wrapped around his mid-section.

You feel him, how tense he is, how his muscles flex at your touch almost like he's bracing himself for some kind of blow that simply will never come from you.

You rest your cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin was burning.

"Baby. You don't look like him. You aren't him, and you never will be." You whisper.

You plant kisses wherever you could reach, not letting him go, feeling his body shake with each shuddering breath as your soft lips made contact.

"More importantly, Tyler will never be you."

"I--"

You cut him off. "Listen to me... Did Tyler figure out multi-dimensional travel, build a strike force of super-powered people from across the multiverse? Does Tyler, almost every day, work to keep dozens--no, hundreds--of universes safe from monsters?"

He didn't answer.

"And did Tyler Stone protect your baby brother from your mother all these years?"

No answer.

"You are Miguel-goddamn-O'Hara." You tell him. "I love you, with trauma, quirks and all. I love your little scritch-scratches you make, the way your bottom lip pokes out when you pout, your crooked teeth when you smile. I love your ridiculously large body, I love how you hug me. I love the little snores you make when you fall asleep at your desk, how you crinkle your nose when you're about to sneeze.."

You feel his hands slowly rise to touch your arms where they're almost-locked around his larger frame.

"I love how sweet and gentle you are. I love hearing you curse to yourself when you shock yourself with your soldering gun... I love listening to you bicker with Lyla, or complain about one of the other Spiders bugging you." You place more kisses after each sentence; hoping each one plants a seed of love beneath his skin, to bloom into a garden that he can admire and love, not hate for the very skin he was born with out of illegitimacy and infidelity.

"Tyler Stone is not you. He never will be. He will never be as good as you." You sigh against his skin, feeling the goosebumps form in the cold of your room, now that the adrenaline of his anxiety was beginning to fade, and his body became aware of the water that was slowly drying and cooling his skin.

"I love you, Miguel O'Hara. You and no-one else. Don't ever think for a second that you don't have your own identity because of your genes."

He slowly turns in your grasp, looking down at you with raw, unclothed emotion as his hand touches your cheek.

"You're more than that. You're you, and I wouldn't have you any other way." You say, your tone set and jaw tight; every word you spoke carrying a hefty weight of seriousness and honesty.

He smiles, almost sadly as you feel the rough pads of his thumb against your cheek, the little talon there poking you but not breaking the skin.

"...I..." He said, his voice stiff as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"I really will pay for your mirror, you know."

You grin up at him and turn your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.

"I know you will, Miggy."

"But I am curious... I felt like you were going to keep going with the affirmations." He said, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"Well, the last one..."

"The last one?" Miguel tilted his head down at you quizzically.

You grin at him again, your teeth showing and eyes creasing as you barely manage to reach around him, swatting his ass playfully.

"I also love the fact you have the nicest ass I've ever seen on a man."

He couldn't contain the snort that came out of him, and he reached up to cover his whole face with his other hand.

"Mierda..."

You giggle as you step around him, giving a playful swat to his ass once again as you walk by.

"C'mon, Miguel O'Hara. You got a broken mirror to clean up."

His shoulders lifted as he watched you, his eyes softer than you've ever seen as he smiled.

Yeah. You were right.

He was Miguel O'Hara.

And he was certainly going to pay you back for the smacks to his ass.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 12 (Pt 2 of 3)

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 came with so much you really didn’t want.

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; tension; anger; crying + feelings of sadness; self deprecation; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; jealous!reader; jealous!jake (my fav); wet jake in the shower (!!); lotssss of nakedness (!!!); oral sex f!receiving; fingering; almost p in v (like..so close...i am v sorry); pregnancy hormones of multiple variety; reader is always emotional and stubborn (love u, sweet girl); INFIDELITY; talks of cheating/wanting to cheat on (obnoxious) partner; important issues addressed over texting; joshy + elsie continue to come in clutch fr (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 12 (Part 2) Word Count: 32.8k+ (i will just continue saying to plz blame the characters. they have a mind of their own + I simply can't control them... however, my evil mind does like to give in to their evil ways...)

a/n: i would have been doing this chapter a total disservice if i hadn't included everything i've had outlined for it... and if i didn't give in to the evil voices when they told me to keep going with my evil thoughts... hence why this chapter is now t h r e e (punch me) parts instead of two. (i need to be taken away lmao)

god, i love this chapter...... and it just gets even ~~~better~~~ in pt 3... ;) hehe

aka: methinks the teasing should come to an end for now, hm? ;) (my outline that began two years ago is helping me to stick to this rather than being mean and dragging it out any longer lol -- slowburn is my krypto)

as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits + listening to every time i have anxiety over my writings <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person. <3

an additional thank u to @builtbybrokenbells and @alwaysonthemend. <3 <3 <3 THANK YOU, my loves, for always having the right words to encourage me amidst ~~A L L~~ of life’s stresses. I love you guys so much - you know I'd be lost w/out you :')

Also, to my friend @gretavangroupie, consider this my belated birthday gift to you, lovely <3

Please enjoy the playlist as you read (there's officially a new cover for the latter part of the story!) 🖤 (fr, i listen to it nonstop when i write this.... all of the songs are pertinent to the story and aid in telling it - either already or eventually.)

Covet Masterlist

"[The] desire of having is the sin of covetousness."

William Shakespeare

Without any hesitation, he was stepping over the ledge of the bathtub, still fully clothed, until his boots were sloshing in the shallow puddle of water that swooshed to the drain. 

His hands found your body soon, igniting a fire under your already-heated skin. He guided you back a bit – until you were pressed against the wall furthest from the shower stream. He was getting drenched, but he’d made sure to get you out of it. He held your waist the best he could with the new addition of the baby bump, but still managed to hold you in such a way that showed you he was in charge. 

The way he held you reminded you that you were nothing more than putty in his strong hands.

Then, he was going to grant your request.

The words "Kiss me, Jake" were ringing on a loop in your head.

Leaning in to you, his grip on you, so firm, steady, sure. . . . You could see every intricate detail of his plush, pink lips as he came closer. Your heart fluttered in your chest. You were ready to feel his lips on yours. 

He was near enough for you to see the stubble coming in above his lip. By the day, he seemed to become less and less concerned about staying completely clean shaven. . . . and you were rejoicing for it.

Though, before you could study any other detail, his hands dropped from around your waist. You studied him in a panic. What was he-? His eyebrows were dipping in with doubt as he pulled away. Fuck. No no no no no please –.

“I–I can’t–,” he shook his head, now drenched from the spray of the shower. You followed his lead, pulling into yourself and away from him - the best you could - to protect yourself. And, even though you wanted to cover yourself, you couldn’t for fear of slipping. You looked away from his face, instead scanning his body as he stood before you, tense and unmoving. 

You noticed, though, that he wasn’t getting out of the shower. He’d only distanced himself. But if he was already regretting this, why wasn’t he moving? Goddammit. Your heart started to split in your chest. . . You were so confused and so vulnerable. He’d just encouraged you to open up completely for him. . . only for him to decide against this – against you.

“Do you not want me?” You asked, voice messy with unshed tears. Your line of sight landed on your own feet, refusing to look at him as your temperature spiked with aggravation. “Because, shit, Jake – I told you! I fucking told you we shouldn’t – but now you have me fucking shaking. And — goddammit! It’s not fair for you to get me to admit those things and then bail as soon as you–!”

“Y/n,” he growled your name, commanding your eyes to land on his. His stare was intense, just as it had been before he’d moved away. There was irritation flaring in his irises, though. Towards you or himself, you couldn’t tell. All that mattered to you was that he stepped closer once more, boot heel clicking. Your heart hammered in your chest. “I’m not going to fucking bail. I told you I wanted to please you and I plan on keeping my damn promise. I want to taste you, feel you so fucking badly. . . I just–,” he shook his head with a growl, messing with his wet hair a bit, pushing it from his forehead.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, your chest hot and your core clenching at nothing watching him pushing his wet hair away from his forehead. . . Drops of water, dripping down his chin. You didn’t know how to respond. In your life, you weren’t sure you’d ever felt this sexually stimulated. It had to be the baby hormones. The way you were feeling at the present moment had you wanting to crawl out of your skin and into his. Your body was on fire, a collection of electric sparks under your skin, begging to light up. You knew pregnancy hormones could make a woman feel crazy, but you hadn’t truly understood. Not until now, completely naked and ready in front of the only man you wanted. 

You were starting to feel as though you would stop at nothing to have him inside of you. Like, murder might even happen to have him, quite frankly. Anyone who might stand in your way was not safe as you continued to buzz with anticipation that wouldn’t dissipate in the dense, humid air of the shower. Doing the only thing you could do, you chose to admire what was in front of you.  His shirt was opened to the middle of his abdomen on what you knew to be a chilly December evening, daring him to catch a damn cold. 

But. . . the sight made you anything but cold–no, seeing his perfectly toned chest heaving and soaking wet. . . it made your entire body flame. You felt red-fucking-hot as you watched each and every breath – inhale, exhale. . . . in and out. . . in and out. . . His shirt was light blue, the water soaking through the material to make it nearly transparent. It gave you a glimpse at everything beneath his shirt. . . You honed in on his pecs, firm muscle underneath waiting to be gripped. You needed to put your hands on him again. You needed to feel the smooth skin of his chest–with your hands, tongue. . . anything. Needed to feel him. So, you did what your body told you to do at that moment. 

Taking one wary (and brave) step forward, you reached your hand out timidly, giving him space to stop you if he needed to. But, he didn’t stop you. When you glanced up at his face to read his reaction, he was watching your hand move, mouth agape at the action. You could finally feel his warm breath on your cheek again as you took one more step towards him. Without any more thought, you placed your delicate hand on the exposed part of his tanned chest. And, daring to feel more, you slipped your palm underneath his button-down shirt to feel the taut muscle on one side of his chest.

His breath caught at the motion. It felt like sweet relief to be touching him like this again. His chest flexed under your hand with the sharp intake of breath. Your breaths were uneven, too, not daring to breathe too harshly to scare him away. This moment felt so eerily similar to a moment so long ago – that first game night. The moment you’d been dared by the stupid ass card game to touch him. But this time–this time felt worlds different than that night at the beginning of summer. There was history now. A baby you’d made together, for God’s sake. So much more between these two people in this moment of time. And this meant you knew how to read his body. . . He wanted this. You knew he did. You knew him.

So, it was no surprise to you when he took a steady step forward, very nearly meeting the front of your body with his. You knew it was going to happen before it did; you knew that his hand would reach up to touch your chest as well. You watched his hand as he followed through on your prediction. Though, he didn’t touch your breast like you expected. No, he balanced his hand above your heart, where it beat furiously for him. Your nipples were impossibly hard, straining at how close he was. They were so tight it almost hurt. The kind of pain that could only be soothed by him.

“Jake,” you begged, his name saying everything you couldn’t say. Your thighs rubbed together of their own accord, desperate. “Please.”

And there it was. His hand immediately went to hold your swollen, sore breast. It seemed the only relief your chest could find was from his touch. You gripped his chest tighter, having to hold on to something. Your other hand, reaching forward to pull at the soaked linen of his shirt at his waist. Every movement he made on you, you traced with your eyes. Memorized every touch. Your legs continued to work at creating friction with every movement of his gentle massage on your breast. His other hand came up to hold your hip, gripping you with a sure hold. Chest heaving, your nipple, so sensitive and taut beneath his palm, your body – pleading for more. Still. You needed more. As his hand moved away from the front of your breast, he went to hold the underside of it. He held it so securely in his grip. 

You noticed how much bigger your tits looked in his hands than before the baby.  They filled his hand completely now, some of your chest even spilled out from the side of his splayed palm. Your chest was officially too big to fully fit in his strong hand. But that didn’t deter him for a second. As his fingers on your hip flexed around your smooth skin, he brought you closer to him by the sensitive flesh of your breast. A whine sprung from your chest at the added pressure to the left side and the severely tight nipple of your other tit connecting with his wet chest. He brought you closer to him, skillfully kneading your flesh in his hand like you’d needed so desperately. Relief. Sweet fucking relief. And suddenly, you were so close to him. Just close enough to feel his dick straining against your hip, in his pants. . . Fucking shit. You almost lost your balance. 

“Jake,” you were whining, outright. It was pitiful as hell. But – you couldn’t give two flying fucks. 

“I–I can’t kiss your lips,” he breathed, voice gravelly and low above you, floating directly to your ear. You finally looked up from watching his hand, waiting for him to continue. There was more he wanted to say, it was obvious. “That’s–I have to keep something that is unique and sacred to my relationship. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” It did. It made complete sense and you admired his feeble attempt at saving one thing for her. . . but, you couldn’t help that it cracked your heart the slightest bit that you weren’t able to feel his lips against yours. Fuck Maya for that one specifically, honestly. 

The tears were welling in your eyes all on their own–couldn’t stop them if you tried. Although, you couldn’t tell if they were from baby hormones or an honest result of the new crease left in your heart at him so obviously not being yours. He belonged to her – not to you. And the lack of kissing was a painful, blatant reminder of that. Kissing him had been something so normal and familiar only a few months ago, you could have kissed him any time you wanted (well, almost any time. . . but still). And . . . you’d given that up. Given him up. Desperate to feel anything from him, anything he could give you, there was only one question that lingered in your mind, weighing heavily like bricks on your tense shoulders.

“What can you do?” Your voice broke with the wetness in your throat, a tear stupidly trickled down your face. 

His grip on your breast stayed firm, his hand going to cover the expanse of it. You moaned, your eyes fluttering closed a bit at the feeling. The hand from your hip reached to wipe your cheek of a few more stray tears. “Shhh,” he hushed gently. 

Playing it off the best you could, you offered him a half-assed response. “Don’t ask me why the tears are happening –it’s–it’s the baby hormones,” you sniffed again, willing the tears to go away. 

And, thankfully, they did. Once they’d subsided, his fingers carefully trailed to the other breast, your hand still on his chest, nearly clawing at his skin with each measured press of his hands at your aching breasts. Your hand trailed up to hold his neck, around his arms on you. Your thumb smoothed at the flesh behind his ear. God, you’d missed holding him and you really loved that spot behind his ear. . . couldn’t explain it. You sniffled. Despite your sadness, your body sparking, growing goosebumps rapidly at the way he was stimulating you so deliciously. Your thighs worked hard to ease the throb between your legs. 

“How does it feel?”

“So fucking good,” you grit out, your hand gripping gently at the roots of his long hair, darkened and soaking wet from the water flowing from the showerhead. “How do you know how to–? They hurt when anyone else holds them. . . but not with you– how?”

“I was determined to find out how to make you feel good,” he replied with a hoarse chuckle before he cleared his throat. “I have been doing research,” he smirked, his eyes connecting with yours. You felt your cheeks warm. His hands began a new pattern lazily and intentionally adding pressure to the areas that needed it most. He was trying his best to give equal treatment to both of them, you could tell. 

And dammit if he wasn’t doing the most impeccable fucking job at it. You gasped at the additional pressure on both sides as he pressed up, around, and over. . . covered every inch of your chest with his skilled hands. His dark eyes found yours as soon as you’d gasped, a small, secret smile on his face. The grin you gave him in response was bashful, cheeks flaring a deep pink in the soft moment.

He continued his words as he worked his hands so intentionally against your swollen, aching chest. “I’ve been reading on how to pleasure pregnant women– what to do to make them feel better. . . since your body’s changing and shit, I know it’s gonna be a little different than before,” he explained. You observed how he seemed to study your chest intently. He was invested in the task, manipulating the supple flesh in his practiced hands. “And you told me that your tits have been sore, so I’ve been reading how to help that specifically. I didn’t think I’d actually get to try it out on you – but, here we are,” he smirked, his eyes connecting with yours once more as he raised a brow. 

Didn’t think he’d ‘get to try it out on you’. 

You blushed, continuing to watch him in awe, the way his brows furrowed, his eyes going back to his hands. You decided to follow his eyes with your own. God bless America. Truly, watching his hands at work was just as bad as surveying his features. Your nerves were on fire and you felt your muscles tighten at your center, needing his touch in a million places at once.

“And, when pregnant women have sore tits, it apparently helps to massage them and apply pressure,” he continued, informing you of his research while doing just as he said. “So, I thought I’d try that.”

He kneaded and pressed against your heavy chest. As he continued with those motions, his thumbs reached to stroke the nipples. All of it, all at once. Every single nerve ending on your body was warm and tingling. Your eyes closed in sweet ecstasy, your head unwittingly going to lay against the shower wall with one particular motion, your back arching into his hands. Your hand dropped from behind his head instead gripping the shower wall. Now you were holding on on both sides. Literally bracing yourself. Shit. It was embarrassing as fuck how pliant your body was to him and his skill. You were completely gone for this man. With another mewl, you bucked your hips in his direction. 

Goddammit. Words, y/n. Words. He’s conversing. “W-what else did you find in your research?” You gasped, opening your eyes to observe his hands move just so, his thumbs tracing the buds of your nipples as he cradled the underside of your tits. He was doing the most incredible job at keeping the heavy feeling off of you. He was literally taking the weight off of you and handling it himself. It was heaven.

You looked up to catch his eyes and saw he was still concentrating on his actions. “For sore tits or overall pleasure?” He pondered, eyebrow raising again as he glanced at you and caught your line of sight. 

“Pleasure,” you breathed, feeling his hands come to a devastating halt on your chest, smoothing over your sides before he dropped them completely. Goddammit, Jake. Don’t stop. “All of it.”

“I know that some pregnant women really like being touched and have a pretty high libido,” he paused, bringing his hands up to push his soaking wet hair back. “But I also found that other pregnant women experience the exact opposite – have an aversion to sex.” He eyed you, squinting with a knowing smirk. “I could probably guess which type you are by how much you loved that just now, but . . . I want you to tell me. High libido or low?”

“Well,” you paused, your legs suddenly feeling like Jell-o. So, not wanting to fall or some shit, when he’d successfully pushed his hair back, you reached both hands up to wrap around the base of his head, your fingers working at their own massage against his scalp. The hum that sounded from his chest, along with the searing hot look he gave you as he gazed down at you, inspired you to work more intentionally. His eyebrows raised at one point, eyes closing briefly at one particular run of your fingernails against his scalp. 

You kept on, his eyes lazily finding yours when you began speaking; he sleepily blinked his heavy lids open. “I–I haven’t really felt a high libido for anyone but you. . . I don’t think I’d want it from anyone else right now. . . So, I don’t know what that makes me. High, maybe?” You pondered aloud, wanting his opinion of your predicament. “. . .Does it count if I only truly want you?”

“Fuck. Are you serious?” You watched one hand reach between you to rub against the strain at his zipper. The other hand came to your hip, pulling you into him further, then moving down to your ass to pay attention to the muscle you’d told him was sore earlier. Your sighs filled the air, your senses overwhelmed by him. He rasped his next question, voice so low between the two of you. “You only want me?”

“Only you,” you confirmed, the honest words brushing against his face as you leaned just a bit closer with your quiet, sighed response. 

Then his face was stern, one brow raised skeptically at you as his jaw set. The muscle in his cheek flexed as his eyes burned holes through you. “What about the noises you were making with Theo?” He implored, not angry, per se. Just serious. He was genuinely wondering. “Seemed pretty into it with him, too.”

“It was fake,” you confessed, looking away from him briefly, your hands halting their movements. Suddenly embarrassed and nervous at the memory. You didn’t want to be thinking of that nimrod. Your hands fell from around his neck as you curled in on yourself in slight shame, instead interlacing to cradle the bottom of your belly. “I took too long for him. He didn’t try at all to get me there. He was shit at everything he tried.” Then, you gained just enough confidence to look back to Jake with your next words. Needed him to understand and believe you. “And he’s not you. I don’t think any other man will ever make me fall apart the way you do.”

Jake seemed to relax at that, another, tiny step towards you, sure of himself all over again. He’d just needed the reassurance, because now he was eyeing you like he fucking owned you. And you weren’t sure if he did or didn’t at this point. You were ashamed to admit that he most likely did in fact own your body. It was his. All his. Honestly, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you would say thank you every damn time. His boots, still on and clicked against the tub. His confidence made your legs shake. Your fingers, wrapped at the bottom of your belly, loosening with your body. Opened up for him with ease as he got closer to you. Your eyes flicked to where you saw movement at his waist and you saw his hand find his dick again, gripping it to relieve himself however he could. Fuckfuckfuck.

“So, if I were to get on my knees right now and fuck you with my tongue. . . you’d say you have a high libido?” 

“So fucking high,” you sighed, desperate. Ready. Aching for it.

“Thank fucking God,” he growled. And with one more push of his hand against himself, he moaned under his breath, and snaked a hand around your waist to reach for your ass. Your body leaned towards him, welcoming the touch. And with one sure grip to your ass, he grasped both of your hips, holding you to him tightly, his dick pressed snugly to the juncture between your hip and belly. Your arms found his neck, wrapping around it to bring him closer. “Well, I’ve found there are countless positions to try, but I think the one I’m going to try is going to feel–.”

“The one? Don’t tell me you’re going to cut it off at all of the other shit, too,” you said, backing away from him, pushing him away a bit. Yes, you were pouting. His hands dropped from you as you let go of his neck. Your arms went to cross under your breasts. “No kissing, so what’s next? What can’t you do? You never answered that.”

He started unbuttoning his sopping wet shirt. And when it was finally completely off, he reached up to drape it across the bar of the shower head before turning a bit to angle the shower head more towards the wall than him. Your eyes tracked every. single. movement. The way his bicep rippled slightly with the stretch, the way his abdomen flexed. . . every muscle, so beautiful in its prominence beneath his soft skin. When he was back from his task and looking at you again, shirtless, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander the tan skin (how was it fair for him to be so damn tan in the winter time?). He cleared his throat, bringing your attention to his face once more. The smirk on his lips and the way his eyebrow was arched pissed you the fuck off. Was this amusing to him?

“You think it’s funny? How turned on I am and you can barely do a damned thing about it? Even though you led me to believe you could?”

“Who the fuck said I couldn’t?”

“You just said you can’t–.”

“You didn’t let me finish, y/n,” he reasoned. “I was going to say I can’t do that right now. I literally just told you I was going to tongue fuck you, babe. I want to focus on you before we get to sex.”

Before we get to sex. . . so he was planning on . . . more? Deciding to ignore that dangerous train of thought for the time being, you huffed, your arms still crossed at the top of your rounded abdomen. “Well, I’m just confused.”

“The only thing I told you I can’t do is kiss your lips,” he reminded you, his thumb coming up to briefly touch your full lips. His eyes followed his action, your lips still pursed in annoyance as you challenged him with your expression and stance. But you were wavering – quickly. Especially any time your eyes followed a drop of water from his shoulder, all the way to the waistband of his dark jeans. And every time you caught sight of the raging imprint in his jeans. . . “Y/n.”

Embarrassed and flushed, you flicked your eyes back to his face. You covered it up with indignance and frustration, your arms tightening in their position. “What, Jake?”

“I will do anything else you need,” he affirmed, taking a tentative step towards you, boots clicking against the floor of the tub. He got close once more, coming near enough that you pressed yourself against the back wall of the shower again. Your body betrayed you, your nipples once again peaking at his proximity. “And right now, I intend on doing what I’ve told you I’m going to do,” his eyes trailed to where your thighs were still pressed to relieve the persistent pulse below your belly. 

“Goddammit, Jacob,” you breathed with a roll of your eyes, arching yourself off of the wall towards him, just in time for him to meet you halfway. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to him, your belly between you not letting you get quite as close as you used to. “Then fucking do it–please.”

He leaned forward and for a moment you thought he was going to betray his ‘one rule’. But instead, he kissed behind your ear, right where you liked to kiss him. Then, he trailed his mouth down the column of your throat. He alternated pecks and open mouthed kisses, all the way to your shoulders, collarbones. . . You sighed, completely at his mercy. When he found your left breast, he gave it the most attention. 

He licked around the sensitive nipple of your left breast, mirroring it with the right. At which, he elicited a moan that quickly progressed into a very whiny wail from you. “Fuck! Fuck, yes!” You cried, grasping his wet hair, not sure how to stop yourself if you fell – your shaking knees were bound to betray you, you could feel it. “This is so fucking wrong.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” he growled against the wet, supple skin of your breast. Every word, emphasized with a lick around your tender, hardened flesh.

Your train of thought was halted – lost all thought in your brain at him full-on kissing your nipples. He’d begun giving them kisses just like he would your mouth. Soft lips and wet tongue enveloping the entirety of the bud, tilting his head to the side to get the best angle possible. His nose nudged against your swollen breast as he continued lapping at you. He went back and forth, offering the same to both of your tits, several times over. A shaky hand reached out to tangle in his drenched hair as you tried to properly breathe. You were going to finish from this alone if it kept on much longer. You watched him in pure astonishment, his eyebrows knit in concentration. Then, as if things could get any worse (better?) he moaned – the action vibrating against your skin.

Your hips jolted up enough that they collided with his, just barely. But enough that both of you groaned in unison at the contact, his hard dick enticing you as you felt it, only a thin barrier of clothing between you. . . You felt your pussy flex at nothing, your thighs feeling the wet result of your arousal. But–you hadn’t finished yet. . . Not yet. Though, you knew you were so damn close. . .

“Don’t cum yet,” he commanded, mumbling around your nipple. Your nipples, usually so fucking sore, but feeling like they were made of sparklers, electric under his soft mouth. “‘M not done yet.”

“But– I can’t– a-ah-ah!,” you moaned, your body beginning to lose its fight to stand up straight, near to giving out. “I can’t hold on for much longer, Jake. Please. I promise I’ll cum again for you,” you swore, your fingers lacing even tighter into his long, chestnut locks. “Please, baby.”

“Not fucking yet,” he bit out, his dark eyes meeting yours from their place at your full breasts. Then, he winked, making you throb from that gesture alone. Fuck. You weren’t sure you could do as he said. 

He went back to giving your body kisses, this time trailing back up to your face, little pecks covering every expanse of skin on your flushed face. Then, with one gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, he reached a hand up to hold your cheek. His eyes held yours, open and vulnerable under his stare. So soft, he spoke to you with fervor in his tone. “I promise it’ll be better if you just wait, baby.”

Pinching your eyes shut, you laid your head against the wall in frustration. “Fine,” you griped, hands tightening in his hair. 

His mouth worked its way back down your body. He started by giving sloppy kisses to your collarbones, but ended up lowering to his knees as he continued, all the way to your hips – covering each one. Once there, his hands replaced his mouth and started kneading at the flesh at your hips. “Y/n, honey.” 

You heard the smooth velvet of his tone and couldn’t deny him your attention. Blinking your eyes open took a little more effort than you would have liked, but you couldn’t help it with how delirious you felt.

“Mm?” You hummed, your eyes fluttering a little, vision blurry until you looked down and saw his handsome face, loosely grinning, right next to the spot you wanted him most. It made butterflies fly erratically in your tummy. For all intents and purposes, it was a very tranquil, tender moment. Seeing him next to you like that again. 

His eyes said a thousand words, but you got an inside look at his mind when he spoke next. “I have been dreaming of this happening again for a long time,” he softly spoke, almost inaudible with the water behind him if your ears weren’t completely alert and opened for him. 

“Your body has always been the most exquisitely breathtaking sight. . . But it’s infinitely more beautiful now. You rival any other woman that has ever walked this planet, carrying my baby or not – but goddamn,” he sucked in a breath before leaning forward and kissing the bottom of your belly so gently, lovingly. His eyes were still tied up in yours, never leaving as he bared his heart. “If you being this goddess – this picturesque image of pregnancy isn’t haunting my every waking thought. And it’s just going to be even worse now that I’ve seen you naked like this.” One hand slid from your left hip to your ass, gripping the flesh surely in his palm, leaning forward to place one more kiss to your belly, a little wetter than the last. “Deliciously fuller – in every way that might make your body even more perfect to me.”

Before you could say anything in response to that, his mouth kept moving downward. Your eyes were watering at his words and you had to reach a hand to wipe at your eyes with a sniffle. You didn’t think you’d ever heard something so ideally timed in your life. He was fucking perfect – remedying every insecurity a pregnant woman might have. His hands did a stellar job at holding you against the wall to prevent a fall, both of his hands firmly placed, once more, on your hips where his thumbs kneaded circles into the muscle. His hold on you was strong and intent. It was fucking heaven. His thumbs moved and pressed with purpose, working the tired joints. 

“My hips– Jake, god. . . thank you,” you sighed, your eyes closing at the way your body felt weightless under his hands and mouth. 

Suddenly, his mouth was on your thighs, going back and forth between each leg until he reached your knees, stopping there. He was obviously intent on holding you upright as he knelt before you. You opened your eyes, suddenly desiring to see him again, and you watched as he gave your thighs unrelenting attention. You watched in wonder as he very slowly started to work his way to where you needed him most. And once he got there, he gave you a dark look that made your knees nearly buckle. Then, he began on you, wasting absolutely zero time. There was no warning for his mouth meeting your searing hot, wet heat. 

“Oh-oh-oh, J-Jake, f-fuck, yes!” You were nearly incoherent, but who would expect any different when you had Jake Kiszka making out with your wet and waiting pussy. You’d been aching and waiting to have this again for so fucking long. . . The slew of curse words and moans that escaped your lips were useless, as they all came out as jumbled non-words. Utterly unintelligible.

His tongue was inching closer and closer to your opening, not even daring to edge towards your clit yet. You clenched your jaw, a low mewl coming from your lips, unable to do anything but watch him. Your eyes couldn’t dare to leave the sight in front of you. He was taking his time to lap at your folds, soaked and fluttering for him. Your hips jerked forward, not able to stop the way his lips and tongue were setting you on fire near the point of retaliation. You were trembling, your body not working on its own at all to hold you up. You were dependent on his death grip, now back on your hips, steadying you. He was pressing you so hard to the wall – you just fucking hoped that he left bruises in the wake of his fingertips. Wanted—no, needed— to remember this.

He kept on with his work for a bit longer before you felt a few chillier drops of water spring from the shower head, onto your skin. Fuck no. And, of course, as if on cue, Jake backed away, wiping the corners of his mouth with the pad of his right thumb, his left hand still holding you to the wall. 

“I swear to god, Jacob Thomas, if you fucking stop because of some cold wa– oh!” 

And he was back, licking up every bit of early release at your heat. You couldn’t catch a breath to finish what you were saying as he added his fingers to the mix, twirling his pointer and middle fingers through your soaking folds, as his tongue tapped at your over sensitive bundle of nerves. And as his tongue flattened on you, his fingers simultaneously met your entrance. 

But, he stopped there. And you knew why. 

His attention was set and stuck on your comfort first and foremost. And you knew he could tell you were getting cold with the addition of the less-than tepid water. You were shivering, only in the slightest, in spite of your determination to continue — more from the cool temperature of the water (and the apartment), than his mouth and hands. But it could’ve been because of his touch. . . You willed him to not catch on and to just keep going. 

But you knew it wouldn’t work out like that. You already accepted the fact that he knew it wasn’t wholly because of his mouth that you were trembling. Your skin hadn't even grown goosebumps yet from the chill, and still his eyes caught yours in a steady trance. He raised a brow at the openly petulant look painted on your features at his pause. He cracked a smile; he could read you so damn well. You wanted to simply blame it on the connection you had to him by carrying his baby. But, his instincts of your impending reactions had always come incredibly quickly. Before the baby he’d always seen right through you, just the same. 

“Jake, please. Don’t stop,” you ridiculously whined, in spite of your chitter-chattering teeth. 

“You’re cold, y/n,” he clarified, as if you didn’t know. “Literally shaking.”

His observant tone, in true fashion, worked to piss you off. But, you were still hazy from his ongoing touch, so you closed your eyes to center yourself. 

Because, he might’ve moved his mouth, but he’d kept his fingers at your core. His fiery touch worked to warm your body the best it could. His fingers were lodged deep enough that when he went to bend them, the knuckles in the palm of his hand grazed your clit. And, the pads at the base of his two fingers nudged inside of you, just under the skin that housed the nerves. He was nestled so deep, continuing to elicit electric stimulation at your core. And the calluses of his fingertips were the perfect addition of friction to your swollen heat. He wrapped his hand against you, staying situated where he was. His other hand stayed firm on your hip, not letting go for anything. Wanted to keep you balanced.

You bit your lip, your head laying against the shower wall. You could barely concentrate on the fact that he’d spoken at all.  When you leaned off of the wall the best you could, you opened your eyes. Instantly, it felt like you were going to slip with the movement. But, just when your foot dared to lose balance, his hold on your hip tightened further. His fingers began to twirl within you, his palm ghosted over your clit with every purposeful jerk of his fingers. Your walls fluttered at the way he kept you going with one hand, while steadying your body in unison with the other.

He wasn’t saying anything further. Just kept going. Your hope grew that he hadn’t stopped. And the ball in the pit of your belly threatened to unravel with a figure eight movement he’d begun where his palm kept fitting to your tight, tingling nub as his fingers swirled. 

You quickly came to find out how focused he’d still been on your chilliness though. Turning around without you realizing it, fingers still distracting you, tucked between your folds, he switched the shower off. 

“Jake!” You complained for no reason whatsoever. Well. . . you knew why you were complaining. You were worried — didn’t want to lose this. You’d been so close. “Do not let this be the fucking en–.”

“Y/n. You’ve gotta trust me. I’ve kept my fingers where they are to show you — I’m not done,” he responded, tone lacking tolerance for your quip. “Can you just be fucking patient?” “You’re not being patient!” 

“How in the hell am I not being patient?!” 

“Your voice tells me so,” you argued, hearing the way it sounded ridiculous as soon as you said it. You shook your head, body shaking from the cool nip of the bathroom air and your soaking wet body. He was also trembling, his body just as wet as yours. The sight made your heart falter in your chest at the idea of him being cold, too. You’d been too busy worrying about yourself to think of him.

So, when he removed his fingers, yes, it aggravated you. . . but you’d started considering his chilliness enough that you weren’t going to chew him out. And, you couldn’t stay mad for long anyways. Seconds later, he was once again eliciting a dazed moan from you. As soon as he’d removed his fingers from you, he was bringing them up to his mouth, placing them on his waiting tongue before locking his lips around them to suck your arousal off. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brow and groaning in the process, his opinion of the way you tasted apparent. Holy fucking hell. 

“Taste good?” You asked, trying to sound snarky, but failing from the way your breath had escaped your lungs. 

When his fingers left his mouth, he slowly started to stand, eyes connecting to and never leaving yours. His grip on your hip not giving up a single bit in the process. Once he was standing at full height again, he slid the shower curtain open, eyes staying hooked on yours. He grabbed the towel hanging on the wall rack, momentarily leaving your gaze. But, as soon as he had the towel in his hands, his eyes snapped back to your waiting stare. 

“Fucking delicious. You taste better than anything – always have. . . No other woman compares. But. . . it’s–it’s even more-so now,” he paused, releasing your hip and motioning for you to come towards his arms with the fluffy, waiting towel. You turned your back to him, holding your arms out a little so he could wrap the towel at your back and handed you the rest to finish wrapping yourself. 

He kept talking as you cinched the white towel around yourself, your breasts not appreciating the way you tucked the material tight around your chest. You groaned at the feeling, pissed with the fact that your body was so sore.

Jake’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. “You okay?”

You nodded grumpily, carefully turning to face him. “Yes,” you grumbled. “It’s my boobs. They just ache all of the time. . . milk has officially started coming in, according to my readings. And I believe it with the way they're hurting right now. My tits have been a lovely focal point of change this entire time, but right now. . ."

"Yeah, I can't imagine how much they must hurt with how they've grown." There was no missing the way he bit his lip, eyes darkening. He licked his lips, smoothing his pointer finger over the bottom one before he responded. “But. . .I’ll help them feel better, baby. Don’t worry.”

The buzzing in your veins was impossible to ignore, and you didn’t trust yourself to give a valid response with how lightheaded he was making you. All you could do was nod, eyes hopefully communicating your excitement. 

“I read about the taste of a woman’s release, too. . . when women are pregnant, they have a tendency to taste sweeter than usual. And I can safely assure you, it’s the motherfucking truth,” his voice was hoarse with the last sentence. He kept on, locking his Amber-brown irises with yours. “And it’s fuckin’ erotic that you taste like the sweetest thing while you’re growing my baby. . . I can’t even explain it, y/n.”

You were positively vibrating with need for him, your body threatening to unravel at any given moment. Now warm from the towel, you knew most of your shivering was still from him. 

“You don’t have to,” you assured, your mouth dry from it hanging open at his words. Swallowing purposefully, you shook your head before stepping out of the shower. And, once you’d towel-dried your body enough, you bent to tie the towel around your hair, turning away from him. As you made your way to the mirror, leaving him. Once you checked yourself, you were in horror as you realized just how red your face was. “Ah! God, Jake, I look like fuckin’ Elmo.”

He belly laughed at that, the sound making your tummy ignite in a swarm of happy butterflies. “No you don’t. Trust me,” he said, still giggling at what you’d said. “. . . ‘look like Elmo’. You’re fucking hilarious,” he paused as you heard his belt clink away from him, along with the pull of his zipper. You tried damn hard not to think about it, just focused on fanning your face. “And what’s with all of the Elmo lately? Josh creeped me the fuck out with that shit.”

Not able to help the laughter bubbling in your chest at the thought of Josh’s horrifying Tickle-Me Elmo, you turned to face him to enjoy the moment together. You first saw all of his soaked clothes, in a neat pile ready for the laundry, next to him. His boots, sitting as a pair beside the clothes. His belt, rolled tight on the toilet seat. 

And, Jake, completely naked. 

Your body reacted immediately, suddenly ready for the most. Your tone was way too eager when an inward ponder was spoken aloud. “Are we going to have sex?” Dear God, y/n.

He smirked, shaking his head as he took a step and leaned past your naked body to get in the cabinet under the sink for the spare towel you kept underneath. His fingers brushed the side of your ass in the process and you didn’t want to discuss how quickly his touch heated your skin. You turned away from him once more, leaning towards the mirror to check out the two pesky spots on your chin that threatened a pimple under the skin. Thankfully not big enough to notice to someone else, but still. 

For some reason, the size of your ass was now all you could think about. How your body had gotten bigger in a few unfortunate areas. . . You couldn’t help feeling insecure. “Was that on purpose?” You shot the other question his way, followed by a statement of your own. “It has increased in size, just like the rest of me, so . . . wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t on purpose and just because it’s huge.”

“It was on purpose. Too nice not to touch — want to grab it or slap it any time I see it. Nice fuckin’ thing,” he replied, causing you to drop your hands and lean back so you could give him your full attention. The response made your cheeks blush crimson red, slightly visible through your slowly lightening skin. When you swiveled his way, you found him towel drying his hair, his dick still fully erect and tempting the fucking hell out of you. You bit your lip, and he continued on, eyes closed as he focused on drying his hair. God, he was so handsome. And the constant scruff above his top lip was just not good for your sanity.  “And I don’t know what you mean by the rest of you increasing in size or being huge. One, you aren’t huge by any standard. And two, all I’ve noticed increase in size are the three things I enjoy watching as they get bigger.”

You flushed, turning away once more to work on towel drying your own hair before you left the steamy room. You’d want the towel to wrap up in the hallway. Suddenly intrigued by the fact that you were talking so openly with him, you kept going. “Do those things happen to be the Three B’s? Boobs, belly, butt?”

Jake was laughing again at that, his little snort unmistakable, even as you were bent the best you could at the waist to towel dry your own hair. “Yes,” he chuckled, lighthearted. “That is correct. Did you make that up?”

Damn, I missed this, your mind absently trailed. “I don’t know,” you smiled, raising from the towel dry to do it standing. Your body was buzzing with all things him. “You didn’t answer my sex question.”

“No sex,” he promptly replied. Your heart fell, but obviously being oblivious to it, he kept on. “I’ve got a job to finish tonight that doesn’t include my dick.”

“What if I want it to include your dick? Aren’t you doing this to please me?”

How had the conversation just picked up like you’d never stopped being the two of you? The awkward air that had persisted, on and off since the wretched day in the kitchen in August, was seeming to float away day by day with his knowledge of the baby in your belly. But, before that line of thought could derail, he was responding to you. 

“Are you saying you weren’t pleased with what I started in there just now?”

“Of course I fucking was, Jake,” you rolled your eyes. “But, still–.”

“You just answered the question yourself.”

“How?”

“Would you just finish drying your fucking hair so I can continue eating you out?”

The way your body temperature rose inexplicably at his words was not something you wanted to admit to, so you went with a simple response to keep you on level ground with him, rather than a quivering mess. 

“Aye aye, captain.”

Another snort, followed by a chuckle. “Shut the fuck up.”

Once you’d gotten yourself completely dry, he was following you to your bedroom, closely. So close that you felt his warmth radiating from behind you, only working to increase your already heated need for everything that was him.  

“Get on the bed and get on your knees for me,” he insisted, lips grazing your ear with the words, once you crossed the threshold of your room. Those words, for me, had you feeling reminiscent of walking on a cloud. This was actually happening. “And spread your legs apart, baby. Need that pretty pussy open for me.”

God. You did not want to give him any argument. Your body was shaking with need from the entire evening. Your heart was beating harshly, rapidly — felt it knocking against your heaving chest. . . 

He undoubtedly knew the effects he was having on you. And planned to lean into them as long as you could. 

“You should know better than to tell me what to do, Jacob,” you jested, walking towards the bed. Clearly your words didn’t mean much since you said them while doing exactly as he told you. In your best attempt at being sexy, you got on the bed. And once you were on the soft comforter, you crawled on your hands and knees to the front of your bed, slowly. You made a show of sticking your ass in the air.  

You then heard that familiar chuckle as you did so, and decided you were slightly offended over the fact. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Relax, baby. I just think you’re cute. That’s all,” he replied as you heard him close your bedroom door. You paused briefly and looked over your shoulder, to see where he stood by the door. “How can one be so equally cute and sexy? I’ve never known someone who does it as flawlessly as you.”

You blushed at his words, giving him a flirty grin with a wrinkle of your nose. But you quickly realized now was not the time for joking. Not for much longer, at least. Not with the way his eyes were set on your body, drinking in the sight before him. You knew he enjoyed his view, his eyes trained solely on your body rather than your face. So much so, he didn’t catch you watching him. He licked his lips before running one finger over them in silent admiration.

The vision of you, naked and wanting for him, pregnant with his baby. . .you knew, most likely, it was unrivaled to anything else he’d ever seen. Even in the dim light of your singular lamp, you could see that look in his dark eyes, one hand going to brush through his hair while the other tightened the towel at waist. His bottom lip, gripped by his teeth. His thick cock, still very erect, tenting the towel hung at his hips. 

“You are beautiful in every way,” he remarked, tone low and throaty as his eyes finally locked on yours. You felt your thighs tremble with need as your body continued to prepare itself for him.

Still on your hands and knees, you looked towards the head of the bed again to get to your pillows. Once there, you turned your body around to fully face him. You tilted your head to the side with a grin that you hoped conveyed at least half of what you felt. Over one shoulder, hair cascaded down your back, and over the other shoulder, your hair laid against a supple breast. 

You then began to shift your weight back slowly, lowering your hips toward your heels, resting the backs of your thighs against them with your knees spread just enough. Your belly and breasts, the main focal point. The palms of your hands found the mattress behind you as you were beginning to lean back against the pillows. Needed the pressure on your  back. But, he stopped you before you leaned too far. 

“Wait,” he said, your eyes silently questioning him as you watched him make his way towards your side of the bed. “Let me help you, baby.”

You watched in adoration as he grabbed the two pillows on the other side of the bed with one hand, situating them behind you, along with the two that always rested there. “I know how your hips and back have been hurting. . . I should’ve done this before you ever got on the bed.”

“It’s okay, Jake,” you smiled, watching as he worked to place them just right to support your sore muscles. “Really.”

“Just wanna take care of you,” he replied, tapping your hip with two fingers. “Now you should have that support behind you, baby. Lean back. Just a bit.”

You did as he said and. . .oh. It felt so nice. When your back formed to the pillow, you could have sung a thousand praises. It was instant appeasement for your aching body. Continuing to make yourself comfortable, you watched him push his hair back as he stood beside you, watching you with intense care.

“Are those pillows enough? I can go get a couple more from my–.”

“It’s perfect,” you truthfully claimed. Yet, even if it wasn’t perfect, you were not about to let him leave your side.

Your mouth watered as his eyes darkened, taking in every inch of your body he could see. You saw his zone in on every movement of your hips, eyes, and heavily swaying tits as you finally, fully situated. Then, with nimble, impatient fingers, your hand reached out to the towel at his hips, and with a singular flick of your wrist, his towel was falling. And your eyes instantly flew to his thick cock that seemed strained to the point of uncomfortability. His tongue met his lips, his dark irises, trained on your face as he lifted one hand to your lips. You knew exactly what he wanted. So, you did just as he silently requested and spit in his palm. 

Hand now wet with your help, he went to languidly stroke his length. His eyes never once leaving yours as you felt your mouth fill with more saliva, might he need it. All you wanted was to help him. 

That wasn’t deemed necessary, though, because he was soon letting his cock go to sit on the edge of the bed, beside your bent knees. His fingers grazed up your thigh, the skin automatically igniting at his touch. Your center fluttered, needy for more attention from his hands. 

It was like he sensed the call of your body, finally scooting back to lay down on the bed. He was moving with intentionality, going to the exact space he’d instructed you to create between your legs. . . for him. 

Finally, he was on his back, head nestling snugly between your thighs. His face was in the direct line of your pussy and ass. And his entire tanned, solid, stunning body was extended in front of you. You watched his stomach flex with each inhale and exhale — as he took in deep, deliberate breaths. And his beautiful dick, in perfect view for you to admire if you wanted. Was he doing this shit on purpose? Was he taunting you with it? Even though he refused to let you have it? 

You were about to get snarky with him about it, but you didn’t have time before your body was sent into euphoria as his hands located your ever-aching breasts, giving them each a firm knead. Each got attention of their own for a bit, his hands placed fairly over their own full breast. 

Before you could get too used to that, he pushed them together. It should’ve hurt, but it felt so impeccable. Your chest was tender, but the soreness of one offset the achiness of the other. You let out a relieved sigh with the work he was doing, pushing them to move against each other in the middle as he paid attention to the swollen sides with a firm massage. You bit your lip to conceal a moan at the sensation. But when you felt a gentle slap against the side of your left breast you couldn’t contain the noise as it slipped easily past your lips. 

“I want to hear you, y/n,” he sternly commanded, your core close enough to his face at this point that you felt every breath with the words. Your thighs shook with each breath he took. “Let me hear you.”

Then, without leaving time for you to bicker, he was back to his previous motions. You respected his work always, but you were learning to really appreciate his new, adjusted focus to parts of your body. Specifically your boobs. Even though they couldn’t fit in the palm of his hand like they once (perfectly) could, he still made sure to cover the expanse of them with intentionality from his long, skilled fingers. 

You threw your head back as the calloused tips of his fingers skimmed over your sensitive nipples. And when he came back, he purposefully rolled them with practiced circles from his thumbs. You were shaking when he finished his work with a final, intentional pinch to both nipples. You shivered as your back arched, body searching for more. 

His arms then went to wrap around your front, palms immediately situating on your belly. He placed one hand at the bottom of your belly to affectionately hold the curve of it. As you leaned into the touch of his hand there, he gave a gentle caress to the front of the bump when you heard a few words slip from his mouth. 

“Thank you, y/n. You will never understand how it feels to watch you grow my baby—our baby,” he breathed, each word’s breath brushing against your vulnerable center. 

You hummed an acknowledgement, not able to fully process his words with the way his breath continued to make your entire body tingle with needy electricity. 

Then the tender moment was abruptly cut off when his focus zeroed in on holding your ass instead. He squeezed a round cheek in each palm. You moaned, your legs spreading even more to grant him additional access to the place you needed him most. Your hands wrapped around the front of your thighs, irritatingly squeezing the supple flesh as you buzzed with need. You wanted to hang onto him, but you didn’t want to spook him. 

Before you could get too used to the new angle and the feeling of his grip on your behind, he was smoothly landing a harsh slap to your right cheek. The action had your head falling back with a sigh, your pussy fluttering. His hands then traveled to your hips and held safely to them, splayed perfectly to grip the muscle there entirely. The pressure was euphoric.

“Jake, please. I need more—.”

Without any warning whatsoever, he brought you down just the slightest bit further to meet his mouth in a tender kiss. Then, his tongue began where he’d left off in the shower. 

Your toes curled deliciously with a loud groan at the feeling of him making home between your thighs with his skilled mouth. You couldn’t help it — you had to touch him. His abdomen was in perfect distance for you to grip, so you did just that. Your legs widened further with your new hand placement, allowing your core to meet his mouth’s ministrations even better than before. 

Your fingers flexed against his belly as you let your tummy rest comfortably on his chest. You smiled softly to yourself at the connection, not planning to move anytime soon. You watched his cock tremble briefly with another brush of your tummy to his chest as your body jolted with a particular flick from his tongue against your aching, throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body tingled, almost all of your senses being wonderfully assaulted.

For a few moments, he paid special attention to your center with long, purposeful licks of his tongue. Then, you felt one hand drift over your ass to your most intimate spot, two fingers spreading you even further. And, keeping them there to spread you, with practiced precision, he began giving several long, open mouthed kisses to the sensitive flesh. You pulsed with each deliberate slide of his tongue and lips.

The sounds you made were humiliating, at best. Though, it seemed Jake really did like it. He’d even started rewarding you for them. At every noise, he’d intensify his actions – making out with your pussy fervently, his tongue dipping deeper and deeper with every squeak, moan, or sigh. He continued teasing you until he replaced his tongue with two strong fingers. He slipped in, spreading the long, skilled digits inside of you — deliciously stretching you. 

“You are so fucking tight, baby,” he raspily groaned as he intermittently spun and stretched the two fingers inside of you to prepare you. He licked one stripe through your opened folds before you felt a smile against you. “Has it been difficult being a celibate pregnant woman?”

“Only when it comes to you,” you moaned as he pushed the two fingers just deep enough to brush your sensitive cervix. “I’ve needed you so fucking badl— ah!”

You couldn’t finish your thought as his entire tongue, rolled just right to fit snugly in you, thrusted up, finally making home inside of you. Stars erupted behind your eyes — his name, a pathetic whimper on your lips. 

He used his grip on your ass to pull you back just enough that his bottom lip was able to nudge against your clit with each thrust of his tongue inside of you. Your body shook at the new sensation, your hips rocking of their own accord to meet every movement of his mouth. After a few more intentional laps of his tongue within you and his plush lip grazing just right against your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves, you felt yourself nearing the end. Your entire body was alight and trembling. And the intoxicating, mind-numbing realization that you were about to finish on his tongue for the first time in who even knew how long was what tempted to finally push you over the edge. 

But before you could reach that peak, he was pulling his mouth away and using his firm grip on your ass to lift your tension-filled body off of his face. Fuck. No. You did not attempt to contain the angry grumble of his name, the frustration was ridiculously palpable in your tone. He needed to know your aggravation at his rude teasing behavior. You were actually on the verge of frustrated tears at not being able to finish like you so badly needed. 

“Jacob, if I can’t fucking cum–.”

“Stop it, y/n – I just needed you to know that I want you to let completely fucking loose,” he interrupted you, not letting you get started on a tangent before he was correcting your assumption. He wasn’t stopping – just wanted to talk. Wanted to give you permission. “I need you to show me with your body how badly you’ve needed this. Don’t you dare control it. Let fucking loose. If you move your hands, though, I’ll fucking stop. Make you wait. So you better keep those hands on me. Don’t move and let me work. Do you understand me?”

You felt the stress ease from your body, your body relaxing once more, going once more to rest against his strong hands and the pillows. You could do all of that. Just needed him to keep going. “Yes, Jake,” you sighed, your pussy clenching needily at his warm breaths, the only barrier between you and his mouth. “I promise.”

“Let me take care of you, baby.”

You sighed with an agreement as you let your hands relax on him enough to smooth over to his sides, holding onto his sturdy obliques for better support. 

Then he was back at it. No warning as he went back to exactly what he was doing before. Except this time, he alternated between patterns. He started with the one angle of his lip against you and his tongue inside of you. But after a few skilled uses of that one, he was back to making out with your folds, tongue first every time, then lips meeting to seal the deal with an intimate kiss. God, it made you wish even more that he could kiss your mouth. . . but you’d just have to suck it up.

Your body was shaking against him, still holding on to enjoy the feeling for as long as you could. But you could only hold on for so long – you needed the tight ball of tension in your belly to be unfurled. So, with the rotation of his tongue in you, lip intentionally prodding your clit, to the long lap of his tongue before he’d give a lasting, lazy open mouthed kiss to your cunt. . . You barely registered it approaching, the ball tightening to near obliteration, one precise suck from his mouth making your body tense, desperate for moremoremore. Your hips faltered, almost stilling completely, as your eyes hazily rolled into the back of your head. And with one final, purposeful stroke of his tongue from top to bottom of your oversensitive flesh, you were gone. His name tore from your chest, no mind at all for anyone else besides JakeJakeJake as your fingers sealed to his sides, never daring to leave his skin. Needed all of him around you, in you, on your, with you — forever.

Fuck. You loved him so goddamn much. And as your body hung loosely in the clouds from the work of his tongue, you felt wholly validated that there was nothing on the planet that compared to the way he made you feel. Whether it be in your bed or in your heart, Jake Kiszka was it. Always would be, you were afraid. 

As you tried to come down and recover from the high, you soon realized he wasn’t going to give you time to gain strength. No, he just kept going. His mouth worked like he was devouring his favorite dish. Too desperate for every last bit of you to bother stopping, it seemed. And the next time he went to put his tongue inside of you, his lip had barely brushed against your clit before you were going entirely motionless. Your mind blanked entirely. 

You sobbed his name on a drawn out, strangled whine that turned hastily to a growling moan. Every filthy sound that escaped your lips was loud as fuck. And, really, you would’ve felt incredibly bad for your neighbors – had you given a single fuck about anything. Your hips stuttered in their rhythm, keeping in time with the melody your mind kept producing. akeJakeJakeJakeJake. . . .  Everything worked in time with the long-since-practiced song of his name.

“Fuck, baby,” you whined, eyebrows furrowed as you felt consciousness come back little by little, only faintly, but still. Your fingers let up just a little on his sides, letting his flesh breathe from your vice-like hold. 

The way you let your body settle to accommodate the motions of his tongue was nice. He did all of the work as you relaxed against him, your quivering pussy gave him everything he — and you — needed. Your eyes slid closed in ecstasy before a hum from his lips jolted you, your fingers slipping past his waist line just a bit as you stretched further down his body to give him better access.

Slowly, before you could process anything else, your hips started moving again with some assistance from his persistent hold on your hips. He went to fully grip your ass, assisting you in grinding down, hard against his strong, flattened, and fucking wet tongue. He hadn’t stopped once the entire time. His fucking stamina was otherworldly. And, even though you’d just (kind of) come back to, you were already falling apart again. It hit you suddenly, when you felt his hums switch to a low growl against your labia, right before going back in for a sloppy kiss. You were instantly back in the throes of all things Jake; your body went utterly numb as you sunk as far as you could onto his face. The growls and groans continued from his mouth – you felt every single one against your center as he worked to tilt your body just so, his nose nudging against your aching core briefly. Your toes curled tighter at the contact, amidst the harsh ride of your orgasm on his lips. He wanted you to feel every bit of work he was putting in. Every movement of his mouth was crucial to your enjoyment of the moment and he was making damn sure you knew that.

You made the mistake of looking down as you groggily returned from your second orgasm, to the present time. Because, when you looked down, you were offered the opposite of reprieve. With a slow glance just past your round tummy, you caught sight of the very bottom of his chin and the strong column of his neck below you. And what you beheld was intoxicatingly beautiful.

He was—his tanned skin. . . He was fucking soaked. Had you squir–? The flood of heat that enveloped your belly, washing over your entire body in a rush of glorious overstimulation, was the only sign you’d had of a fourth orgasm. 

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, your body incapable of handling itself as you let out a choked sob, tears flooding down your cheeks at the care you were being shown. Your hands finally slipped further, nestling on the insides of his thighs. You leaned forward just a bit to grasp him better, the want for his dick back with a burning desire as you got closer to it. You could obviously tell that he was beyond ready for you — stretched readily, angrily, and so thick. . . All. For. You.

How did he expect sex to not happen tonight? You needed it. Needed him — all of him. So, so, so desperately.

You felt even more tears touch your cheeks at the heavenly thought. Yes, you were definitely being pushed past your limits. But, with Jake, did you truly have any limits? Your poor pussy was straining, begging for a break. But, all you wanted to think about was Jake. Jake, inside of you. Needed to keep going until you got what you needed most of all. 

You could hardly begin to wrap your mind around how he just kept going through all of it. Though before you could topple into another one at the mere thought of his dick in you, your weak, spent body was being repositioned by strong arms.

Through barely opened eyes, you sort of registered that he’d moved both of you completely from your previous positions. You were definitely still out of it as he balanced your ass on his thighs, one arm around your waist to hold you. And he was the one on his knees now, facing the headboard, your back still facing the pillows he’d set up. 

You wrapped your legs around him, which made your leaking center draw even closer to his tip, throbbing and angrily blushed — all for you. 

Even through blurred vision, you noticed how he seemed to have gotten impossibly harder – at the sole act of devouring you. The precum that glistened at his head distracted you, your mouth watering at the sight with a tiny whine at the intimacy of it all. From your front row seat, you admired how his cock jerked with need as he worked to pull one pillow down to situate behind you. Before you could get used to the sight of his dick for any longer, he was once again repositioning your body. Gently, he used the arm at your back to guide you directly onto a pillow, placed perfectly to cradle your hips. Your head, blissfully meeting the other fluffy pillows at your headboard. 

You could’ve fallen asleep right then and there, exhaustion threatening to take over. But you knew better. Fuck that. You did not want to go to sleep yet. The night was young and you still hadn’t gotten what you truly, initially wanted. And you were determined to convince him. Simply put, you were far from ready to be done with this night. 

His voice was hoarse with want as he leaned over you, giving a wet kiss to your dampened neck before his warm breath brushed against it. “When the pillow supports your back there, it works to elevate your hips,” his fingers gripped your hips, his thumbs melting into the muscle there to release tension. Your head rolled back into your pillows, your eyes slipping closed with an intense, relieved sigh. “And. . . ,” he continued, lips grazing your neck before he delicately kissed the crook underneath your ear. He moved to speak into it, so low. “I get the best angle to make sure you feel satisfied. All I fucking want is for you to feel so good, baby.” 

You used him being closer to your face to your advantage and laced your hands through his hair before bringing him down a bit further, just enough to touch his naked chest to yours. His face tucked even further into your neck to give you a plethora of messy kisses, licking the skin he could reach. 

Your nipples were so tight, still aching for attention. And, you found at that moment, simply pressing your breasts to his chest, skin to skin, gave you some much needed reprieve. Gave you a sensation that felt like sparkles, all the way down to your toes.

Pushing your chest against his once more, he let you use his body as he balanced on his elbows around your head, keeping his chest close enough to graze your tender breasts. With the action, he brought his face up to examine your blushing, pleased features with a smirk. “Your nipples sore, baby?”

“Always,” you sighed with an absentminded giggle. “It’s all your fault.”

“Mine or hers?” He asked with a grin, his hand going down to cup the side of your belly. 

You felt butterflies flutter at the gesture – loved when he touched your tummy. “I feel like blaming you right now,” you grinned, cupping his cheek, running your thumb over his beauty mark. 

“Guilty as charged. I’ll work on those later, hm?”

“Okay,” you sighed, pushing yourself up against him one more time before he was moving, yet again.

As he went to lay on his belly, you laced your fingers through his hair, mostly dry, just a little damp. And, his tongue, once again, met your heated core, only brushing the sensitive place with one measured, precise lick through your overindulged folds. 

A guttural moan formed at the back of your throat, your hands leaving his locks to grip the comforter. Your back, arching from the bed and pillow, body yearning for moremoremore. 

He began languidly kissing your center again, this time focusing his tongue on your clit before each tender press of his lips to the bundle of nerves. When another jolt of electricity shot through every inch of you, you went back to knotting your hands in his hair. And with one gentle kiss to your clit, he worked his way back up your body. 

He tucked his face into your neck, giving listless, hungry kisses to the skin there. With every brush of his tongue, you felt yourself melt into the sheets around you. Heat pooled under your skin at his lips on your supple flesh. You felt it go from your lower back, all the way to the pit of your tummy, simmering at your core. A pleased hum slipped from you at the sensation, your eyes closing at the familiar, precious feeling of pure and unadulterated safety and comfort under his touch. 

You’d missed this.

Fatigued as your body was from the repeated climaxes, you instantly perked with a surprised, needy whine when you felt two fingers deftly swipe — up and down — through your folds to collect any remaining release. You shivered while he collected enough for his liking. As you continued to tremble beneath him, he took the time to swiftly push the same two digits inside of you. He stretched you so exquisitely — all the way to the last knuckle. Your hips bucked into his open palm, needing every bit of support his hand could offer your aching center at the familiar, yet (now) slightly foreign feeling inside of you. 

You’d needed this. Him, inside of you. Somehow, some way. Right there, you decided, if he wouldn’t let you have his cock tonight, you would gratefully accept his fingers as a runner up.

These fingers. They knew your body just like they knew the strings on a guitar. The callouses, from his craft, deliciously traced circles, slow and sure, against your most secret spot, inside. And not too long after, his thumb claimed its rightful spot on your clit, drawing the same circles there as the fingers did on the inside. The two tender places on your body, receiving equal, gentle, deliberate care. 

With a final lazy kiss behind your ear, he let his lips trail from your neck, down your chest. He took special care to wrap his mouth around each of your nipples. You savored the feeling of his tongue flicking expertly at your puckered skin as his fingers worked at your pussy. You writhed under him at the sensual relief for your aching body — your sensitive nipples — fuck. Your chest arched into his mouth as he paid each breast special attention. 

His dark eyes instantly shot to yours as he leisurely released his plush lips from your breast, measuring your reaction at the loss of contact. You only whined a little as you watched him with rapt attention, awaiting his next move. 

He rose to his knees, fingers leaving you at the movement. You whimpered pitifully as he shifted back down towards the foot of the bed. He went slowly — the raging, rock hard problem at his groin, offering an incredible sight. Once he’d made it as far back as he believed reasonable, he was carefully lowering himself onto his belly once again. As he did this, he held his cock in one hand, positioning it so he’d be as comfortable as possible. 

God, you wished to be the one holding it. Whether it be with your hand, your mouth, or your pussy. . . You’d accept anything he granted you at this point.

Once on his stomach and with his dick tucked away and out of your sight, you felt more desperation gather in your chest. You had to tell him. Ask him one more time. 

“Jake,” you started, waiting for his eyes to find you. With the obtrusion of your round tummy, you had to lean up on your forearms to see him better. After a couple beats, he gave you what he wanted. His pretty brown eyes located yours in one fell swoop. Your breath caught shakily in your chest at how he was gazing at you. “Please, let me have you tonight. All of you. Please.” You begged, not giving two flying fucks for how stupidly pathetic you sounded. 

Your eyes gauged his response. Would he say something? For a few moments, he continued to hold you in an intense stare, eyes scanning your face, something akin to awe evident on his face as he observed you. 

Then, the slowest, most heartfelt smile blossomed on his lips, eyes earnest for you to understand. “Tonight is your night, baby.”

“Okay, so – it’s what I want,” you insisted. “Please.” 

Yet, all you got in return was a smirk, followed by a wink before he was settling his face between your thighs. You sighed in resignation, but lifted your hips up to his mouth, greedily as you rested on your back once more. Your head rested against the stack of pillows behind you, giving you little glimpses of him as he worked. After a few careful licks, he let his eyes hone in on yours as he made out with your pussy – just like he would your mouth. His eyes never left yours as he continued. And, the feeling that began to unfurl in your tummy was an old friend at this point in the night. 

You watched as he went down so far — catching every bit of your release. So, momentarily, his face was hidden, blocked by your growing belly. But before you could be too sad, his head came up, and those Amber-brown eyes met your own. They were filled with lust, hooded in your direction with an intense yearning. 

“Jake,” you sighed, smoothing your hands down your belly before you situated a little better on the pillow under your hips and lower back, leaning up on your own elbows to get a better view of him. 

His long hair was fanned across your legs, sweeping against the flesh of your thighs as he leaned forward to kiss your round, taut stomach, so delicately. 

“In every way, you are perfect, y/n,” he affirmed, saying it in a way that left no room for disagreement. 

You flushed a little smile his way, but your core throbbed for more. You needed it. Needed all of him. 

“Jake, please,” you moaned, communicating all you could with the two words. This moment felt more familiar than you could put words to. . . It made your heart thump so hard in your chest, all the way up to your ears. 

And then, he was rising more and more, his tongue peeking out from between his lips, licking them with a sort of cruel intention – never taking his eyes off of you. 

Your eyes tracked every single movement of his mouth and then his body. Because of that, you hastily became aware of him situating himself to balance above you, right where you wanted him. His handsome face, once more hovering above yours as his elbows were, again, placed on either side of your head. There was a sparkle in his eye as your breath caught in your chest at the possibility of what was about to happen. 

As he fully settled, you became very aware of his dick – hot and heavy against your throbbing center. 

“You feel that?” He said with a smirk, eyes soft with his words. “That’s what you do to me. What you’ve always done to me. But. . . damn it, y/n. It’s so much worse now. . . because now when I look at your beautiful body, I see it changing to properly house my baby. . . and that sight of you – god. You instantaneously become so much more alluring and enchanting than one could fucking imagine.”

God. He was everything. You would carry his baby forever if you could. The feminist in you screamed at you to take a second, but you couldn’t hear her through the steady pounding in your chest. Your heart yearned for him. And you found it an honor to do this for the heaven-sent man who continued to cast a sweet, secret grin your way. One you’d seen many times before, but this time it held more than before. . . 

You were sure no one would ever understand the immense, wondrous impact the man had had on your life. He’d helped you in ways that were incomprehensible at the moment. 

And, he was so . . . consistent. For example: those first words he’d just spoken to you. . . they were the same as they’d been all of those months ago; on your bed, heatedly touching each other and matching kisses like your life damn well depended on it. He was safe. So, so safe. Never changing. Steadfast. And you knew that — you weren’t stupid. But you could only sink into that knowledge when the nagging little voice that haunted you stayed fucking silent. 

He continued to measure you with a long gaze, all of his attention on you as he bent to nudge your cheek with his nose. When he planted a little kiss to the apple of your cheek, you felt the tear fall from your eye to meet his lips. At this, he kissed it away. He was quite actually taking your pain away. 

In response, all you could say was, “Jake,” on a breath, your eyes continuing to water at the rush of memories as well as the present moment. Your arms went to lock loosely around his neck, holding him and wishing he never had to go. 

“I can’t look at you without wanting to worship the ground you walk on forever. There is no one that—. I’ve never felt—. You are— you— I – fuck,” his eyes quickly averted to your chest, head bowing the slightest bit to face the supple skin. His words turned to heavy breaths against your soft skin. 

You combed your hands through his hair to ease his mind. He gently closed his eyes at the feeling, sighing with relief at your touch. But after a few seconds, he went back to that pensive look as he eyed your chest. His gaze never faltered from it, scanning every inch of your body that he could from his position before he went to nestle his forehead at the top of your breasts. You felt his nose, tucked in between them. 

Then you felt them. Just a couple, but definitely there as his shoulders shook the slightest bit to accompany them. Tears. You paused your ministrations through his hair, suddenly alarmed at the emotion. It mirrored yours, yes, but you worried, nonetheless. . . Fuck.

Your thoughts trailed off, beginning to wind down a dangerous path. Was he regretting this? It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t. Because, if he was regretting it, you couldn’t be surprised or hurt. This was something you’d willingly decided on with him. And it was so wrong – you knew it. If he regretted it and wanted to stop in an instant, it would be understandable, acceptable. Hell, by most standards, it would be opportune. And you hated that. 

You hated it, but — he had a girlfriend. You weren’t anything to him. Not like her. Your heart cracked at the feeling of wetness on your chest, a couple more hot tears falling to meet your sensitive flesh. Your tender breasts were tingling at the sensation of him between them, your nipples so tight at his nearness. Even as you convinced yourself that he was regretting this, your ready and willing body — it pulled you to him. 

Fuck—had to move. You had to move. Be the first one to escape so he couldn’t hurt you. Removing your hands from his locks, you sniffled once as you felt your own tears gather at the corners of your eyes. Dammit. 

Yet, right as you went to take one scooch up, you felt his strong hands present at your waist. He held the sides of your belly snugly in his steady hands. Four fingers gripping your back, and his thumbs, positioned perfectly on either side of your tummy to hold you in place. Why was he stopping you?

When his eyes finally floated up to yours, your breath hitched at the sight. 

God, his eyes. They revealed his soul so exquisitely. 

And, what you saw in them right now was not regret. Not at all. At least. . . not regret for being with you. No, instead, you saw. . . Longing. Desperation. Fondness. Devotion. . . . . For you. And . . . you felt it wrong to name the final emotion you were witnessing. Besides, you were sure that your eyes were deceiving you. 

“I don’t want to stop, y/n. Stop thinking that,” he rasped, clearing his throat as his eyes searched yours. His eyebrows dipped in, nerves seeming to kick in for him as well. “D-do you?”

“Of course I don’t want to stop, Jake,” you insisted, your eyes boring into his, needing him to feel what you were thinking. “That is the last damn thing I want to do. But you were fucking crying, so I felt it was best to–.”

“Y/n—you were just crying, too,” he responded, a whisper of a laugh on his lips before he shook his head, eyes averting briefly before finding you again. “I—. Y/n—. God. There is so much that I want to tell you and I just can’t and it—. . .” 

He cut himself off with one swoop, pulling you back to where you’d moved from. And when his face was above yours again, you felt the head of his dick nudging at you. It made your vision momentarily blurry as his fingers tucked a bit of hair behind your ear. His pointer and middle finger lingered on your cheek as his eyes searched yours for kinship. And you could only hope he found it because you definitely understood him — especially not being able to say what you wanted. 

On a shaky breath, he leveled you with a dark stare. “I just got caught up in my thoughts while I was looking at you and the emotions took over. It normally happens in my head when I see you, but I was saying it out loud and you were right here and—,” he huffed slightly, shaking his head at himself. “I guess you could say the words came out as tears. I don’t know — kind of stupid, but—.”

“Not stupid,” you reassured, getting on your elbows once more to press your body closer to his and leaned up to kiss his cheek delicately. His lids fluttered closed at the contact. You kept your hand on his cheek and held his gaze once he opened his eyes. Feeling like the moment warranted complete honesty (or as much as you could offer), you explained. “I get the whole ‘not being able to say everything you want to’ thing. I’m right there with you. Our situation is just. . . The way it is. And, as much as I wish it were different, it isn’t and it can’t be,” your voice cracked on the last few words. 

He let his face rest against the palm of your hand, his hair brushing your arm. “I know. And it’s just so fucking difficult.”

You furrowed your brows, letting your hand fall from his face to rest on the part of your belly that wasn’t pressed to his. As much as you didn’t want to say it again, you wanted to give him one more chance. Based on the word difficult and the apprehension to express his emotions. . . The situation itself helped you feel morally sound in speaking the pondering thought into the hot air one more time. (Which, in retrospect, was hilarious since none of what you’d engaged in tonight was morally sound by any means). 

“We really don’t have to do this if it is too difficult for you to do this to he— while you’re in a rela— since you’re with someone el—,” you huffed, closing your eyes to recenter, your throat suddenly tight with tears. You really didn’t want to talk about her.

“That’s not what I meant when I said that.”

Your eyes slowly opened to process his expression with the words. His face was open and vulnerable, but hardened all the same. He was letting you in and you loved it. The situation just made it all more tense than it had to be. And you hated that part.

“I meant that it’s difficult since we are limited — due to outside factors,” he expressed, pressing his lips together before continuing. “You aren’t the one making it difficult, baby. I feel completely resolved and peaceful at the idea of this,” he looked down between your bodies. Your eyes followed, witnessing as he lazily rocked his hips against yours once before you felt the pressure of him resting at your entrance. Your heart was thumping furiously in your chest, cheeks hot as his gaze locked on yours again. “And what makes it difficult is I know I shouldn’t feel like that with everything and with the other people involved. . . But— fuck if I can’t help it. It’s always felt natural and right with you, y/n. Even if we can’t be together, I know that it will always feel like this with us and that is what makes it so damn difficult.”

Your eyes watered. Everything he said rang true to your heart as well. So, you said all you found necessary to let him know you were on the same page where that thought was concerned. 

“I know, baby,” you sighed, at a loss for anything else to say that could fix it. 

“The problem is. . .I don’t care about any outside factor right now,” he rasped, breath fanning over your face as he leaned down to press his lips to your cheek. Then your neck. Then your collarbone. And finally, your forehead before his fiery gaze was back on yours, burning down to the pit of your tummy. “I only care about what I’ve wanted to fucking do with you again for so damn long. Watching you and not being able to have you — my baby in you or not. . . It is torture not being able to be inside of you. And I want to stop feeling so fucking tortured all of the time. I need to feel you around me again, y/n.”

Goddammit, Jake. What did one do with all of that? You didn’t know. All you knew was the way he was looking at you had you questioning why in the fuck you were still talking when his dick was quite literally waiting at your entrance. You ‘needed’ this shit, too. Bad.

“Then let me help you with that,” you encouraged, unwavering in your stare. “Please. I need it, too, baby.” You rolled your hips forward once. Just the slightest bit, teasing him and yourself as you felt him begin to slip in. 

His breath caught at the same time as yours, your hips naturally falling back to where you laid, losing the new contact with him. “You’re sure this is what you want, y/n?”

Well. That felt like a loaded question. At the moment, your mind was too fuzzy to articulate what all that question could imply. But you did know for a fact that whatever you wanted. . . It always included him, one way or another. Whether it hurt you or hurt him, you wanted him. It was selfish, but it was true. 

So, you answered without another thought. 

“Yes. So, so badly,” you replied, not able to help the whine as you watched his hand move to hold the length of his cock. He gave it a few leisurely pumps of his fist, before running the tip through the wetness gathered at your center. 

The way your body threatened to unfurl at that action alone told you all you needed to know.  You wrapped your arms at his shoulders, fingers grazing his warm neck before going to spin through his long hair. It was past time to have him—.

Tinklytinklytinklytinklyting! Tinklytinklytinklytinklyting!

Of course. It was zero surprise to you when the ridiculously harsh shrill of the Blues ringtone cut you off mid thought. Your eyes turned stony at the very unwelcome interruption of your iPhone. Jake’s expression looked the same as yours, his jaw clenching for a millisecond. He stayed above you, pausing his motions. But he didn’t budge; only moved his head to get a better look at the interfering device.

Even as he peered over to the phone, plugged in on the bedside table, you kept your arms laced around his neck. You watched his expression change from one of irritation to care and concern for the caller. 

“It’s Elsie,” he said, looking back at you with a brow raised. 

You rolled your eyes. Shocker. You truly weren’t surprised that she was the one calling you at the exact moment you were about to get laid. Annoying ass sister shit, one might say (because, yes, even if she was your favorite person ever, she would always be your aggravating older sister). 

“She’s fine,” you reassured him, gently running your manicured nails over his back. Goosebumps rose in their wake, a loose grin forming on his features at the feeling before he was settling above you again. “I’ll call her later.”

“You sure?”

“More than sure,” you emphasized before getting an idea. “Can you just go ahead and switch it to vibrate?”

He immediately granted your request, shifting just enough that his chest glided smoothly over the tender skin of your nipples. You gave the slightest moan at the feeling and you felt his dick twitch against your thigh. 

You watched his handsome face as he momentarily concentrated to turn the ringer off from the angle at which he laid. His lips were so pretty and pink, begging to be kissed. But before you could get too sad over it, he was done and adjusting above you once more.

And with that, the moment was back. Determination washed over you both. No more phone. Only Jake. And his beautiful face — freckles that usually stayed hidden on his cheeks, suddenly so noticeable as he leaned down even further. His soft, tempting lips, ghosting over your cheek before they traveled to your ear, teeth grazing your lobe before gently biting down on the flesh. 

You sighed, body melting into his as your back arched off of the bed. Forming together perfectly, you felt him line up with your entrance. 

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he hushed above you, breath dusting your heated cheek. 

“Me too,” you sighed, your hips lifting impatiently to meet his. “Please, Jake. I—.”

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

And again. The blessed phone. You swore if it was Elsie again. . . 

You groaned, put out at the calls and horny as hell. Why was it always like this for you two? God forbid you get what you fucking want. As you groaned, his face fell into your neck with the same sound from his lips before raising up to check your screen again.  

“Oh,” he said, tone steady and serious; his body went rigid at the name on the screen. It caused enough alarm that you sat up on your forearms, elbows balancing your trembling body. 

“What?” You asked, eyebrows bent to show your worry. 

“It’s your Grandma,” he said, eyes glancing to find yours to gauge your reaction. 

“What?” You faltered, dropping your hands from his shoulders. With a shake of your head, you maneuvered your body the best you could to grab your phone. 

“I’ll unplug it,” Jake insisted, nodding his head at you once to lay back. “You just try to take deep breaths, babe.”

Admittedly, you were glad he volunteered because your back was not having it and your breathing had become short at the possibility of something wrong. You’d been laying on your back for a touch too long, it seemed. And, as the Jake-induced haze cleared, you realized your belly was really not getting along with your spine. It was going to take a bit to situate. You could already tell.

When he stretched to grab it, he continued talking, voice low to calm you down. “Relax, baby. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“But she never calls this late,” you explained, body in pain, your mind running in frantic circles. You placed both hands over your face to shut out the mental and physical discomfort. “Jake, if she’s not okay— if Grandpa isn’t okay—.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. That’s dangerous and you know it,” he encouraged with a grunt, the position making it tricky to grab the phone. But then he was sighing with relief as you heard the charger being pulled from the socket. “Got it.”

When he was back, he gave you the phone. But he seemed to notice the stiffness in your body. You knew your expression was not hiding how you felt, your lower back twinging. “Come on, baby. Let’s sit up,” he encouraged as he maneuvered his body to be in a sitting position. Sitting right next to you, now, he held a hand out as an offering to you. He gave a gentle nod in his own direction as a silent direction to you to lean up.

Your heart fell in your chest, gripping your phone tight in your hand as it plummeted, elbows digging into the fabric of your bed covers with a blazing hot, furious intent to not let him go. You’d just gotten him again. . . If you stopped now, when would you get this again? 

“But I—I also don’t want to stop—.”

“It’s okay. We’ll keep going. You just need to talk to your Grandma first,” he reminded with an air of reason that you desperately needed at the moment.  “And this position isn’t working anyhow; you’re in pain. I can tell.”

You eyed him skeptically, hoping he was right and that you would be able to keep going. “Fine,” you conceded, taking his hand as he did the hard work with one steady hand in yours as the other pressed against your back, firmly pushing you up and forward. 

With the aiding gesture, you felt it easier to think for a moment. So, you took the opportunity to answer the phone call as he arranged your pillows behind your back. 

“Hello? Grandma? Are you okay?” You rushed the words out in one breath, fingers edging towards your mouth to chew at your nails. (A very bad habit from your childhood that hardly surfaced anymore.)

After he’d fluffed them to an extent that he seemed pleased with, you settled cozily against the pillows as your brain went haywire. 

“So you can answer for our damn Grandma, but not for me?” Elsie quipped from the other end, a giggle hanging off the end of her words. 

But you were not in the mood for giggling. With a contented sigh at it being Elsie and not your Grandmother in trouble, you breathed a little easier. The upright position helped — no longer feeling gravity working against your body and belly. The sitting position was nice. . . And as long as he didn’t leave your side, things would be okay. You just had to get rid of your sister and things would be fine. 

You looked up at Jake with a roll of your eyes, placing your hand over the bottom speaker. “Elsie,” you mouthed towards him, rolling your eyes once more to emphasize your annoyance. 

All he responded with was a breathy laugh, shaking his head at her antics before he began to carefully study your body with blatant admiration. His eyes feasted on your exposed skin. It made you realize how much you hadn’t cared once that you were casually sitting buck-ass naked, as you talked on the phone. And, well. . . It was still not a concern to you. It felt natural to do so with him.

You rather appreciated the domesticity of the moment, even if your sister was totally cramping your groove. 

“Elsie. What the fuck, dude? You almost put me in full panic attack mode,” you griped, looking down at your nails to avoid the rather inappropriate thoughts that swirled at Jake’s dark gaze covering your skin. “What could have been so important that you use our Grandma’s phone to get me to answer at a moment’s notice?”

“I got to town early!” She excitedly chirped. 

The possibility that she’d been calling previously to tell you the same thing hadn’t even dawned on you before. You felt momentarily guilty for not realizing that sooner before snapping at her. It was great news—one of your favorite things was when she would come to town. But. . . it had just come at the wrong time, this time. 

“Well, for one, obviously, Els. You are using Grandma’s phone,” you snorted at her, crossing your legs the best you could with achy hips and a bigger belly. “And secondly, while I am so overjoyed that you’re finally in town —and moving back, no less — I am very busy right now.”

“What could be more important than me?” She snarked before tacking on one more thing. “Oh. . . I know what it is. I bet it’s Jake related, huh?” 

“Fuck, Elsie!” You gasped. For some reason, you were embarrassed by her saying that. . . Even though you’d literally just had the man’s face buried in your pussy. Whatever. 

When you heard another little laugh from Jake’s direction, you warily glanced up. With a fake glare, your cheeks heated as you quickly turned the sound down. 

“Why do you insist on keeping it so loud?” He whispered, his cheeks still pink with a little laugh. 

You stuck your tongue out at him, flashing a middle finger his way. The action only caused him to chuckle more, and you couldn’t help but smile along. 

“Was that it?” You tried at Elsie, looking down at your toes as they wiggled anxiously. Seriously — you were just hoping she’d say yes and let you hang up. 

“So it is Jake!” She giggled evilly from the other end, something shuffling behind her. “Told you so.”

“Who are you with?” You skeptically asked, knowing already. 

“Joshua Michael, of course,” she chirped, at which you heard him scream ‘helloooo, mama!’ in the background of the call. “We just wanted to tell you that we have three movie tickets for the Whitney Houston movie that just came out and you, my lovely sister, are the lucky recipient of one of them!” 

In spite of yourself, you grinned at their antics. “I would totally say yes, but—.”

Though, just as you began to turn your sister down, there was a tell-tale knock at the front door. Oh, hell no. 

You knew there was only one woman who used that particular knock. You’d heard it enough times that it was permanently seared in your brain. 

Maya. Of-fucking-course.

When she knocked again, your eyes snapped up to his. Your fury wasn’t easy to hide, try as you  might. His eyes took you in as they darkened, jaw tightening. Both of you sat there for a couple of moments, Elsie talking on the other end as another knock sounded at the door. 

But you couldn’t be bothered. You were lost in his irises, and it seemed he was lost in yours, too — gazing at you in a way that caused your brain waves to stutter. 

While he wasn’t rushing to get up and get the door, you knew — he felt the moment ending, too. It was evident in his downcast expression — the way his smile had instantly drooped to a frown at her arrival. This was not what you two had wanted. The night wasn’t supposed to end this way. 

Would you get this back? Now that you’d been dealt the glorious cellular and visitor disturbance? Or was all of this going to jinx the possibility of it arising again? Was seeing her again going to make him second guess it all? 

With a sure hand, he reached forward to drift his fingertips down your cheek. Your lids threatened to close at the caress, but his Amber-brown eyes weren’t letting you. He grasped your chin between his pointer and thumb, keeping you right where he wanted you. You were trapped in the way he studied you. No, not trapped. . .  Captivated. He left you utterly captivated. And, you could tell by looking at him, by this stare you were exchanging, that he was just as aware as you that this night was over. 

Elsie and Josh carried on with their own conversation in your ear, they were easy to ignore when you brought the phone away from your ear and into your lap, a defeated look etched on your features.

“I’ll, um— I’m gonna get the door,” he offered in a whisper, dropping your chin. His eyes offered zero reprieve or reassurance as he looked just as downtrodden as you felt. “I’ll have to get dressed, so.”

“Obviously, Jake,” you whispered, palm covering the speaker once more. You sounded snippier than you intended. But you couldn’t help how upset you were in the moment. This night — it had begun to make all of your dreams come true. . . only to sputter out in a blaze of glory. “Just fucking go to her.”

“Don’t do that,” he hushed back, eyebrows turned in to show his own irritability. “It’s not like I called her and asked her to fucking show up. I don’t even know why she’s—.” As if on cue, he was interrupted by yet another knock. His features stern and stony, he waited for her to be done to continue. “Elsie and Josh want to hang out anyway. Why are you pissed at me when we both—?”

“Because it’s always her, Jake!” You whispered, just a touch too loud for the callers. So, at that, you decided it was time to end the call. Bringing it up to your ear and keeping your eyes firmly on Jake’s, you spoke. “Elsie, Josh. I’ll be ready in thirty.”

“Make it twenty, Mama!” Josh yelled from the other end. 

“In other words: the movie starts soon and Josh was already running late, so he’s now rushing everyone else,” Elsie added, sounding equal parts exasperated and in love with Josh. Must be fucking nice. 

As Josh started on a rant about Julie Andrews’ line about being late in The Princess Diaries, Elsie kept talking. “Okay, Josh. Yes. But you aren’t the Queen of Genovia, sweetie,” she snorted a laugh on the other end. You couldn’t even crack a smile as you stayed lost in Jake’s deep brown eyes. “We’ll be there in like twenty minutes, sis. Plugging in Grandma’s phone as we speak. . . And I want coffee, so try to make it even snappier.”

Before you could respond, she was saying a quick ‘I love you’ and hanging up.

You didn’t bother to delay getting ready, knowing full well what your evening had become. As you slipped off the bed, Jake reached out a hand to help you. You didn’t take it. 

“Y/n.”

Being the emotionally charged pregnant woman in the situation, you had zero problem turning your nose up at it. You were allowed to be pissed and pouty. And you wanted him to know how upset you were. (Like he wasn’t feeling his own frustration. . . You knew he was. But still.)

“Baby,” he tried again. You heard his own feet hit the floor and saw him pick up his towel in your peripheral before wrapping it around his waist. Just lovely.

Still refusing to acknowledge him, you went about the stages of getting dressed. Your sports bra came first and you pulled it on in a way that was a little too rough for your sore chest. Not allowing the pain to show, though, you opened your closet door with a powerful yank. Quickly, you located an oversized black sweater and tugged it on in one go. 

And, just as you heard him shuffling towards the door, you were finally hitching your thong up your legs. 

“Please talk to me,” he tried once more to gain your attention. 

You knew he wasn’t going to leave without you giving him something and if he did leave without you acknowledging him, there was a chance you could lose all of the progress you’d made tonight. He’d think that you’d given up. And even if you felt remorseful over how the evening had played out, you weren’t ready to give up. Not even close. 

At that, you decided to turn to face him. You blatantly checked him out once you did, that being easier than his eyes at the moment. The towel was back to being hung around his hips. 

Gotta love it, you continued to inwardly snark.

“What?” You challenged, flicking your eyes to meet his stare. 

Your breath caught in your throat at how he persisted in appearing just as you felt. Though, you’d be willing to bet at this point, your features weren’t hiding your distaste at all. 

“Don’t pull this shit. Not after tonight,” he begged and ordered you all at once. “Please.”

“I’m just upset,” was all you could mutter, crossing your arms at your chest like a child. You felt slightly silly with your outward display of emotion, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care too much. “I wish the night would’ve ended differently.”

“Me too, y/n. I need you to know that,” he pleaded, eyes searching yours. 

For all of the ‘upset’ you were feeling encompass you, you did believe him. After everything he’d said tonight. The way he’d treated you all night long. . . You knew he wanted you back. That much was clear. 

“I do know,” you relented, shoulders easing as your shoulders sagged the slightest bit at the admittance. Because saying it out loud made you realize how straight up depressing this ‘love story’ had become. If you could even call it that. “I’m just tired.”

“Me too,” he loosely grinned, but the way it hung on his lips showed he wasn’t happy. He was empathetic — right there with you, sitting in the sadness that was y/n and Jake. 

The final knock was quicker—sharper. The way she’d rapped made it seem that she was either nervous for Jake’s safety or angry at him for possibly ignoring her (which he was most definitely doing). 

With a nod towards the door, you began to encourage him to leave you. “You better go—.”

At the same time, he’d thrown a thumb towards the front of the house. “I’ve gotta—.”

The interaction had you two sharing one last smile before he was twisting the doorknob and slipping out the door. 

You could not be judged for the tears that accompanied you as you finished getting ready for the movie.

And you definitely weren’t going to own up to the way you hid your face under your massive hoodie on your way out. There was no way in hell you were going to look at the beauty who you heard, still, in Jake’s room. 

It wasn’t because you felt guilty — no. Not at all. It was for the simple fact that she had him and you didn’t. 

There was absolutely no fucking use in denying you were jealous. Fire was in your chest, steam still coming from your ears, and your teeth continued to clench uncomfortably as you hopped in the backseat of your Grandparents’ car. 

Thank god it wasn’t Josh’s clunker. You couldn’t handle throwing up from exhaust fumes on top of everything else tonight. 

December 23, 2022

The next day, you woke up feeling frustrated. . . various types of frustration. 

You started the day by just laying in bed, staring at the spinning fan on your ceiling. You tried to allow the fan to ease you, but you couldn’t stop thinking about your night with Jake — from start to finish. Many circles were drawn across your chest in contemplation until you realized you needed to get up and start the day and get some shit done. You had a late afternoon shift at the Black and Gold. So, when you glimpsed your phone and saw it was already later than 8:30, you figured it was past time to get the day started.

You checked your reflection in the mirror, brushing through your hair once before throwing it up in a ponytail. Your reflection was not your friend, but. . . It was what it was. 

After the way you’d left things last night, you figured you’d make talking to Jake your first stop after you brushed your teeth. He was leaving for his trip today and you didn’t want to leave things on an awkward note before he left. And. . . you just wanted to see him before he was gone for the next couple of days. You missed him already and he wasn’t even gone yet. 

You hadn’t heard him making breakfast yet, so you assumed he was still sleeping. When you opened the door to your room and peeked down the hallway to see his room closed, your theory was essentially confirmed. His door had been shut when you’d made it home from the movie, too. 

So, you went about your morning routine – hastily as you could. Went pee. Washed your face. Brushed your teeth. Checked your hemoglobin. Fed Stevie. 

After fifteen long minutes of daily tasks, you finally went to knock on his door. But, when you knocked once, it made his door swing open at the touch. . . It hadn’t been closed all of the way? 

And. . . When you opened his door, your heart sank. No.

All you found was his bed. . . empty and made. The only whisper of Jake was an empty, unused duffel bag on the bed. Was he. . . already gone? Had he left? Why hadn’t he told you? 

That last thought hurt most of all. You checked your phone in your hand to double check your texts – maybe he’d texted you and you’d missed it. But, on sight, no unread texts appeared in front of you in your thread with him.

You did your best to push past it before lamenting in it. You had work and shit to get done today on top of focusing on being a joyful home for your baby. What you felt, she sensed and felt in her own little way. And, you’d had enough stress at the end of the night last night for you to cause her any more this morning. 

So, going against all of your normal instincts, you decided to not think much of it. It felt like old times when you’d shove things down, but it was also drastically different. Because this time, you weren’t doing it to be avoidant. You were doing it out of a pure and unadulterated love – aimed solely at your baby. 

The kitchen was your first stop – where you placed your phone on the counter, face down to avoid checking. You then went to make yourself a pomegranate smoothie. After downing that drink like nothing (out of stress, unfortunately), you’d washed your smoothie glass and the BlendJet. But your mind still raced with thoughts of Jake and his whereabouts (again, unfortunately). You thought of how he hadn’t thought to tell you anything before leaving. Well. . . That was if he had left-left,. . . You still weren’t sure.

If that were the case and Jake had left town with Maya, had everything last night meant so little to him that he hadn’t even thought to tell you he was leaving early? It appeared as such since he’d just let you wake up to an empty apartment. He hadn’t worried if you felt alone. All that had mattered to him, as soon as she’d walked through the front door, was Maya. 

You knew you were overthinking the entire scenario. But you couldn’t stop. You’d always been like this — always overthought things. It was a habit. Mentally squeezing the toxins from your worries into nearly every brain cell while forcing yourself to digest the negative. And, eventually, you’d never fail to convince yourself of the worst. 

Most definitely a trauma response, you knew that. But that truth couldn’t magically stop you from doing it. 

Gia’s advice echoed in your brain. . . Out with the negative, reach for the positive.

For Lavender at the very least. It was what you needed to do. 

Find ways to be less stressed, y/n, you encouraged yourself, physically shaking your head to rid yourself of the onslaught of emotions. 

So, that was just what you did. The idea that came to mind was honestly ideal for Christmas Eve-Eve, too. 

The first thing you did was indulge yourself — preheated the oven to make some cookies. They were the cheap, circular, break-apart ones with the little Christmas trees from Walmart. (You’d definitely been lacking impulse control when you’d decided on buying them, as they were more than unhealthy — but you were glad you had now.) 

As the oven did its thing, you decided it was time to execute the next part of the plan. This morning, you’d actually felt cold rather than overheated (for the first time in a hot damn minute), thanks to a sudden temperature drop outside. So, after turning on the heat (by a notch), you went to your room and bundled up in your coziest sweats and a sweatshirt, fuzzy socks completing the attire. 

Your favorite, fluffiest blanket came next, right off the foot of your bed. You threw it over your shoulder with glee, actually looking forward to this impromptu self-care time you’d decided on. When your blanket was officially tossed to wait on the couch – along with your phone (which you still hadn’t checked) – you went to put the cookies on a sheet and in the oven on a timer. 

And, you even got a wild hair while in the kitchen — deciding to make a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Might as well go all out.

Once you had the beverage started, you went to the living room and flipped through streaming services until you found the exact Christmas movie you wanted. As if the Christmas gods were smiling down on you, Love Actually was actually streaming on Netflix. 

Right as you clicked play, the cookie timer went off. You got those out and put a few warm cookies on a Santa plate (that you’d rediscovered a few days ago at the back of your cabinet), then grabbed the hot cocoa and finally snuggled down on the couch. It didn’t take long for Stevie to happily join in on the cozy morning, tucking herself into the crook of your bent knee.  

With your phone close by once again, you decided there was no time like the present to text Elsie and let her know that you wanted to do something with her tonight. Having her in town again was going to be the best damn thing in the world. 

(You were also sort of looking for an excuse to check your phone.) 

At the same time Billy Mack finally got the lyrics right, you pulled out your phone to text her with a smile on your lips at Bill Nighy’s problematic character.

But the smile turned to a face of shock at what greeted you on your screen. The name made your tummy flip. 

Jake. Two texts awaiting you, both delivered about twenty minutes ago. 

Jake, 9:32 a.m.: hey. You were gone when we left and my phone died on the flight, so I didn’t tell you

Jake, 9:32 a.m.: but we had to leave town early for Maya’s dad’s Christmas. Flight got rearranged and shit. Should be home late tomorrow night. I’ll keep you updated :)

You stared at the gray bubble. Your mind was racing and your throat was tight with emotion. Yes, last night had happened — you’d done that shit to yourself. . . You just couldn’t help yourself.  It had been something you’d waited for. . . . Longer for it more than anything. But it’d still been a poor decision – you had to remember this. It was a poor decision that made your head spin. 

No, the head spinning was not on behalf of Maya. Fuck that bitch. This was about you; all it had done was hurt you. But, last night, as soon as he wasn’t with you anymore, all you’d had were your thoughts to sit with. Including this morning, you’d had plenty of time to face the hard truth of the matter. 

You weren’t important like Maya. Yes, he’d been fine forgetting about her for a moment last night. But he’d simply been a victim to temptation and lust. She was the one he chose to be in love with – stay with. Whatever emotions you thought you’d interpreted from him last night were invalid when you broke it all down. A lot of shit could be said in a moment of weakness and passion. . . And who the fuck knew if you could trust it. 

Your trauma advised you not to trust his words from the night prior. People couldn’t be trusted with everything they said. Not even Jake, you were afraid. The ones you were fondest of were the ones who could hurt you the worst. Your past never failed to confirm this for you.

The texts just reinforced all of your overthought. He was out of town already. With his girlfriend. He was not your boyfriend. He wasn’t leaving town to see your family. And he didn’t even care to text until this morning to tell you. Left you to worry about him. And surely his phone hadn’t died right off the bat – he could have said something. Also. . . There was no way they hadn’t landed hours ago. Phone chargers were also a thing one couldn’t forget, and he’d definitely had access to one before 9:30 a.m.. 

Easy, made up excuses stared at you from your phone screen. 

You didn’t matter to him. 

So you’d respond as such. (Even when you loved him so much. . . You had to put up a front to protect yourself.)

You, 9:58 a.m.: No worries. I didn’t even think twice about it. Figured you were with her. You two have fun!

In astonishment, you got chills as you realized what you’d just sent. You were proud of yourself. Even though you were internally keeling over with love and hurt for the man, you were playing it very cool. Things would be okay if you forced them to be. Fake it till you make it. Right? 

Besides, at the end of the day, you only had to ‘force’ the ‘cool’ in a few areas. Your past, your future, Jake. . . You only had to pretend so much. 

There were plenty of other areas of your life that were naturally ‘okay’ and happy and joyful. The sonogram picture filling your screen as you locked your phone was enough to remind you of this. The photo worked magic and calmed your nerves on sight. 

Your baby girl. Your little Lavender — your tiny saving grace. She was a gift — already. 

Another cookie had just popped into our mouth as you snuggled down to distract yourself with more of Kiera Knightley’s storyline. . . . when you felt your phone buzz – not once but twice. You tried to play it off and ignore the way your tummy flipped. Tried not to think about how your text hadn’t warranted a response (on purpose). And still. . . you’d received two.

Then there was a third buzz. The vibrating sensation against your thigh pulled your thoughts to Jake. You thought of how he’d been the one to put your phone on vibrate in the first place. You dreamily recalled just how naked he’d been when he’d done it. . . Fuck. The way you bit your lip was a secret told between you, the TV, and Stevie only.

Your eyes stayed glued to the screen as you tried to downplay images from your escapade the night before; the distraction of Rick Grimes in a romantic comedy only worked so well.

The waiting period lasted roughly ten minutes. By the end of it, you were left with zero self control. You unlocked the phone faster than you would ever like to admit. 

Why were you waiting to read and respond like it was a game? Was that the right way to ‘play it cool’? You didn’t know. You were new to this.

Jake, 10:10 a.m.: how are you this morning?

Jake, 10:11 a.m.: I should have texted you last night. 

Jake, 10:12 a.m.: I had to pack my shit at the last minute and our plane was literally about to depart when we got to the airport. A clusterfuck of sorts, one might say 

The little gray bubble with ellipses kept popping up, just as soon going away. He was trying to think of what to say or something. . . Though, you didn’t have to wonder what he was typing for long. The message showed up as soon as the ellipses disappeared for the fourth time. 

Jake, 10:13 a.m.: oh and we’re in Charleston. South Carolina. 

Jake, 10:13 a.m.: A bit of a ways away… her dad lives here. But if you need me, I’m just a text away. For anything you need

Another glimpsing ellipses. . . .

Jake, 10:16 a.m.: I also wanted to apologize for last night

Jake, 10:16 a.m.: I wish it wouldn’t have turned out that way

At his words, your heart broke into a thousand pieces in your chest. What did he mean by that? Was he apologizing for it happening at all? Did he mean to imply that he was wishing it wouldn’t have ended with the interruptions? Or was it that he wished he hadn’t ended up in your bed?

You sat in contemplation, skeptically eyeing the phone screen. To be safe, you chose to respond vaguely. For one, you didn’t know what he meant, so how could you respond to something that could mean two things? And for two, you didn’t want to reveal too much of your heart. . . might it break more at a less-than desired response from his end.

You, 10:20 a.m.: It ended the way it did for a reason. I ended up having a great time with Josh and Elsie. And, I’m sure you’ve had a wonderful time with your girlfriend. :)

You wrinkled your nose in pure disgust at the smiley face. Texting that shit did not make you feel smiley. The flashing ellipses appeared momentarily from him, but nothing came for a bit. There was a slight lull that made your heart sink. Even if you were trying to be guarded, you did not want to stop talking to him. What you’d pondered earlier was true. You already missed him. 

You were a few scenes ahead in the movie twenty-some minutes later. . . Still waiting. Until you weren’t. His name popping up on the screen barely registered before you were unlocking to see what he’d said.

Jake, 10:45 a.m.: Elsie and Josh always bring a good time with them

Jake, 10:45 a.m.: As do you

Fuck. And what did that mean? Your pulse thrummed under your thumbs as they hovered over the keyboard. What would you say to that? Was there anything more laced in those three words?

Once you’d given that a good two minute stare, you went for a simple, kind response. 

You, 10:48 a.m.: Thanks, Jake. :)

For the first time that morning, you felt completely satisfied with what you’d texted. Two words and a smiley face. A win was a win. 

He didn’t waste time. Even though his read receipts weren’t on, the ellipses gave him away every time. Though, you weren’t sure if he cared too much that you noticed. . .

Jake, 10:50 a.m.: I really mean it, y/n. Last night was fucking incredible

While his words should have made you leap for joy, you weren’t sure how to feel about them. They made you feel sort of. . . Cheap. The way you immediately interpreted it was that he only thought you brought a good time when it came to your body. 

And while, yes, that was a turn on. . . It only made your heart feel halfway full. You loved how he’d viewed your body and treated it, but. . . Last night, for you, had been more about the long stares. The secret smiles. The heartfelt words exchanged (that he might have meant and might not have meant). Yes, his naked body was right at the front of your brain (how could it not be? Look at him). But, he was what mattered most to you. 

Not his appearance. Or his dick. Or his mouth. Or his fingers. (But, god, yes. Of course those really mattered, too).

In fact, in spite of yourself, you were squirming on your couch thinking of those things as you saw another gray ellipses pop up on the screen.

Jake, 10:52 a.m.: I thought about you the entire flight, baby

Jake, 10:52 a.m.: you are so fucking special to me. Your heart is the most beautiful thing about you

Jake, 10:53 a.m.: I have to tell you though. All night, I kept beating myself up over how close I was to finally fucking you again. Haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually 

Okay, then. 

The warm flush in your face traveled all the way down to the pit of your tummy. Your mouth fell open before you were closing it to bite your lip. Your heart thumped in your chest at the words taunting you from your screen. 

What does one say to that? If you were squirming before, you were fucking trembling now. Your movie was a faint noise in the background and what was left of your hot chocolate was bound to turn cold. You stared at that message long enough that the words started morphing together. 

Last night had been both a blessing and a curse. A tease of what you’d been wanting. And you could have gotten it. Had it not been for his stupid ass girlfriend. Elsie had been an issue, too, yes. But, you could’ve easily gotten rid of her. But Maya? Damn that woman. And damn her family for taking him away from you — so. far. away.

When you finally thought of something to say, you weren’t sure if it was truly the best thing to say. For the sake of exposing too much of your heart for eventual brokenness, you chewed on it. But eventually, you decided that you didn’t care. 

You, 11:06 a.m.: It was the worst way the evening could’ve ended. I was pretty fucking angry when she showed up because I knew you’d end up going to her. As always.

So much for not exposing your heart and playing it cool. That text screamed at you that it had all been for nothing. . . because at the end of the day, Jake Kiszka was your biggest weakness. And that was even without being pregnant. So, the hormones did nothing to assist you in the issue. 

Even though your response had taken a while, he didn’t let that get the best of him. His responses were speedy as hell. Maybe he really had been thinking about it. . .

Jake, 11:09 a.m.: I had no choice. I’d made that commitment to her

The words caused crimson red to flash in front of your eyes and your brain didn’t process time as you responded. 

You wanted to pop the fuck off on him. So, you did. 

You, 11:10 a.m.: What about the commitment I’ve made to carry your child? Am I nothing for that? Can’t even tell her to wait? Maybe make some time for me? Just for a quick fuck? I’d hope I’m worth at least that, Jake. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have said it. . . But you also didn’t fully regret saying it. You made a solid point (kind of). (. . .Except for the glaring fact that it hadn’t been his choice for you to make that bodily commitment. . . When it had been his choice to be and stay with her.) Honestly, the part you loved most about the fact was the spitefulness inflicted behind your words. It might have made you a bitch, but you were tired of acting like your feelings were one way when you knew for a damned well fact that they weren’t. 

You knew how much you cared. Hell, you’d made the move to admit to yourself (and him, apparently — way back when) that you loved the man, for crying out loud. The least you could do was show yourself some grace in being fucking honest in your anger. You really were hurt from last night. To hell with sounding petulant and unreasonable and ridiculous. . . You could always blame it on the hormones (which could very well be seriously to blame).

Your palms felt damp as you held your phone in slightly shaky hands. Your vision was still fuzzy and too clear all at once as you awaited his response. This one took a little longer than the others. 

Over your time waiting for him to say something, you tried to decide between two things. First, you weren’t sure if you were totally okay with what you’d said. (You were very angry, but that didn’t necessarily validate a person for snapping like you had.) And secondly, you contemplated if what you said was completely within reason and you were more angry with him for taking so damn long to answer.

Trying to get out of your head, you chose to engage in the movie the best you could. You only made it about twenty minutes before his name was on your screen again. 

Jake, 11:22 a.m.: what happened to you being the one who wanted me to go be with her all the damn time? You’ve been pretty insistent that I keep my sights set on her. What changed?

Your eyes narrowed at that. Yes, he had a point. . . But you didn’t give a fuck. So did you.

You, 11:23 a.m.: What changed???

You, 11:23 a.m.: Well, for one. YOU were pretty damn insistent on me being the center of your attention last night. YOU were fine with forgetting about her until all of that went out the window with one knock.

And, for a bit, it continued like that. Just the two of you, bickering. You, blowing smoke out of your ass and him, testing you right back.

Jake, 11:24 a.m.: I can’t forget about her if she’s literally at the front fucking door

You, 11:24 a.m.: And whose fault was that?

Jake, 11:25 a.m.: um. Not mine?? Why are you acting like I was in charge of the flight getting rescheduled last minute? 

You, 11:25 a.m.: Maybe if you would have kept your phone on you, you would have known that she was on her way. We wouldn’t have had to talk so damn much before. We could’ve gotten right fucking to it. 

Jake, 11:25 a.m.: my phone was the last thing I was thinking about when we left that bathroom

Jake, 11:26 a.m.: also, I have to ask. Is that all you wanted it to be? Just a quick fuck?

You, 11:28 a.m.: No. But I wouldn’t be surprised if YOU were fine with it just being a ‘quick fuck.’ 

Jake, 11: 29 a.m.: why me? Why is it always me who wouldn't want that?

You, 11:29 a.m.: It’s always been like that. Right?

Jake, 11:30 a.m.: you have got to be fucking joking. You know for a fact that’s not true.

You, 11:31 a.m.: Do I?

Jake, 11:32 a.m.: you damn well should know it. I don’t eat pussy like that for girls who are just a quick fuck

Oh. Well, then. You were left with no time to consider those words — or the way they were affecting you — before he was texting right after with his own rebuttal. 

Jake, 11:33 a.m.: is that you telling me that it’s always been like that for you though? I’ve only ever been a quick fuck?

You, 11:35 a.m.: Of course not.

Jake, 11:35 a.m.: okay then. So quit accusing me of it.

You, 11:36 a.m.: When have I ever been the one to sleep with multiple people at once? Wouldn’t you worry about being a quick fuck if roles were reversed?

That one must’ve left him stumped because you waited a few minutes for him to come back. Or, much to your dislike, you knew he could also be busy with Maya. Too busy to text you back. At that thought, a gentle hand drew to your tummy for comfort as your eyes welled with tears that you couldn’t avoid.

Jake, 11:39 a.m.: I don’t know why you are so convinced that I’m some sexual lunatic who has slept with all of these women. There were a few when I moved here, yes

Jake, 11:40 a.m.: but that only lasted for a bit and then it was just you and Maya. I’m not some man whore, y/n. My head was just fucked for a while and I didn’t know what else to fucking do with my emotions. Sex was easy so I used it to cope

You, 11:41 a.m.: It’s always me AND Maya. Isn’t it, Jake? Has it always been both of us? The whole summer, was it both of us? And you picked her, so.

Jake, 11:43 a.m.: we’ve talked about this, y/n

Vaguely, you remembered it. But it was hazy and wrapped around a lot of weed and a night that resulted in a baby. You could only remember things in bits from that night and they came back when they wanted. The details of his Maya explanation (because you knew there had been one — you remembered that much) were fuzzy and jumbled at best.

You, 11:44 a.m.: You know I don’t remember everything from that night, Jake. Definitely don’t remember enough to feel solid in claiming I remember EXACTLY what you told me.

Jake, 11:48 a.m.: well. I told you that I saw her for like a month from the middle of June to the middle of July. You asked if I kept seeing her after the night at baby’s all right and I told you that I had because I didn’t think you wanted me. At the time she was a woman who wanted to have regular sex with me and she was just there for me during a really hard time

Jake, 11:49 a.m.: but when you and I started fucking, I cut her off right away. Barely said a word to her to explain why I was done. Kind of ghosted her, actually. All that mattered to me at that point was that you wanted me. Because all I had wanted since the day I first saw you was you. But you only wanted me to a certain extent and then that day in the kitchen, I found out you didn’t want me at all. At least that was what you told me. 

Jake, 11:50 a.m.: you didn’t give me much of a choice that day, if you remember. I had served my purpose and you didn’t want me anymore

Jake, 11:50 a.m.: so I ran back to someone who was familiar and there she was. Point of the matter is you didn’t want me and it broke me, y/n. She wanted me, so we became more. It just happened like that

Jake, 11:50 a.m.: right now is the first time it’s honestly been both of you at the same time. And I’m not sure what the fuck I’m doing to be honest with you. I just know I want you so fucking badly it hurts me every single day. And she is someone I care about enough that I don’t want to break her heart. It’s just really fucking complicated

You sat in shock as you read the four messages. In all of your time knowing him, you had never seen the man type such long texts. . . and all back to back. He’d been waiting a while to say a lot of this. You were grateful he was being honest with you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t fucking suck to read all of it. It made you want to shrink into yourself and succumb to all of the tears you could muster. Which, at this moment, were sure to be a hell of a lot if you gave in to the pressure pushing at your tear ducts. The pressure in your chest made the tears seem like nothing, though. You felt a weight fall so fucking heavy at your breastbone, you were positive your heart had become a fifty pound weight.

He had definitely put you on the spot with all of that just now. You were at a loss for words. But you had to say something. But your fight or flight was combatting with your raging hormones and your rambling emotions. So, even if you weren’t totally sure of it, you went ahead and typed out what you felt best in your fucked up head.

You, 11:53 a.m.: It’s really unfair of you to put all of the back and forth over the summer on me. You could have had me sooner had you not been such an asshole to me. I wanted you, too. Even if I shouldn’t have wanted you, I did. I had no fucking clue what to think half of the time, Jake. 

Your thumbs flew across the keyboard on your screen before he had time to respond. You had your own shit to say, and the more you typed, the more you didn’t have to think about it. There was some long overdue shit that you needed to express, too.

You, 11:54 a.m.: I was dealing with my own conflicted emotions when it came to how to approach shit with you because I didn’t want to betray Josh’s trust in our friendship by going against his wishes and seeing you. He didn’t want you seeing people. I knew that and I still saw you. So, I felt like shit over that. 

You, 11:55 a.m.: But since finding out about the baby, he and I have talked about all of that and I wish I would have just fessed up to him because I think it would have helped me be more open to everything. At the same time though, I’ve never wanted another woman to get in the way of you pursuing your dream. I didn’t want to be the reason you put yourself on the backburner again. 

You, 11:57 a.m.: I have cared about you for so long, Jake. Even when you were a prick, I cared about you. Josh once said we are more alike than we think and he is right. In a lot of ways, we are alike. One way we are not alike, though, is I have a really fucked up past that I don’t want you to have to deal with. Period. And I’m not fucking budging on that.

You, 11:58 a.m.: But I do want you, too. I hate it because I don’t want anything between us to ever get in the way of what could make you happiest. I’ve always felt this pull to you that I wish I didn’t because it’s unfair to you. And now that I have this baby inside of me… it is near impossible for me to deny the pull. I don’t WANT to deny it. But, at the same time, you are with someone else and that makes me feel even shittier about myself for possibly destroying it for you. And I’m just not sure what the fuck to do. 

He must have been reading them as they came in because his responses were coming back quickly.

Jake, 12:01 p.m.: don’t let any of what we engaged in last night or before make you feel like shit. That is the last fucking thing I want. Our past is complicated and maybe we will never figure it out. We definitely don’t need to be sorting it all out over text 

Jake, 12:02 p.m.: but I do know that if I don’t give in to this pull that we are both feeling right now, I’m going to regret it forever. No matter who else is involved, I need to have you again. And because of our situation, sex seems to be the only thing we are going to be able to have. It sucks, but it’s what we’ve done to ourselves

There was no way you could disagree with him when it came to regretting it. You would regret it forever, too. You had to have him. But. . . the worst part about all of it was that you knew it couldn’t last. Both of you were destined to be in a constant battle of never being able to fully have each other and that was fucking gut wrenching at best. 

And even if he didn’t want you to feel shitty, you did. Because the fact that it ever ended was your fault. Your fucked up brain from your fucked up childhood that you couldn’t even fully remember. It was the most repulsive and hilarious shit. Hilarious in the sense that it wasn’t funny. At all.

At that moment, you didn’t know what to do. So, you did what you did best and denied what you could to push past the hard emotions. You didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve Eve being down on yourself. As a gift to yourself, you wanted to grant yourself that reprieve. In the way you knew best. Avoidance. 

You, 12:03 p.m.: I know that at the end of the day, Maya is who you’d want anyway. I’m too much, Jake. You haven’t put up with me long enough to understand it. 

You, 12:03 p.m.: I am very thankful that you found Gia for me. So, really. Thank you again, because therapy is how I’m going to get better for Lavender. But SHE is my only goal right now. The baby. 

You, 12:04 p.m.: So I think it’s for the best that we’ve done this to ourselves. Truly. Sex is what we are best at anyway. It’s all we should be doing. When emotions get involved, we fuck it up. And when it’s just sex, it’s easier to cut off.

Jake, 12:05 p.m.: it’s funny. You said the same exact shit last time, but it didn’t make anything any easier for me in the end

You, 12:06 p.m.: So now it’s all about you?

Jake, 12:06 p.m.: jesus, y/n. Cut the shit. It wasn’t easy for you either

You, 12:07 p.m.: Well, I wish it would have been. 

Jake, 12:08 p.m.: I wish it would have been too. But we can’t always get what we fucking want, can we?

In order to avoid an argument, you took that as an opportunity to drop a joke. Again, you were trying to give yourself a gift. And an argument over half-lies with the man you loved was not a gift.

You, 12:09 p.m.: We sure can’t, Mick Jagger. 

After about ten minutes of staring at your screen with no response, you started losing faith in any sort of arrangement working out with Jake. And again, you’d only have yourself to blame for screwing up any progress that you two were making with the emotional explosion, from both of you, over fucking text messages. 

Your screen was becoming your worst enemy. You didn’t want to look at your rejected bright blue text any longer. But you were stuck in a staring contest with it, no matter how hard you didn’t want to be.

The laser focus concentration had you fucking jumping when the phone in your hand started buzzing with a call. But as soon as you calmed down and focused on Elsie’s name, your breath rushed back into your lungs at the fact that it was her. You needed her. 

Sweet relief. Thank you, Els, you thought gratefully as you clicked the green button, carefully sliding out of your texts before putting Elsie on speaker. 

You did not want to accidentally send a voice memo or a weird ass text by staying in your texts with Jake, as a phone got pressed to your heated cheek. 

“Hey El—.”

“Hey bitch, I’m pulling into the parking lot,” Elsie’s energetic voice cut you off. She’d most definitely been up for several hours already, being much more of a morning person than you’d ever been. “If you aren’t ready when I come knock on the door, I’m disowning you.”

“Give me a damn minute!” You grumbled, albeit happily, at her intrusion. You turned off the TV as soon as you could, though. Had to escape the confines of your living room. “You just called me.” After throwing the blanket off of you, you rushed around to throw away your cookies and dumped your cocoa down the sink. After washing all of the dishes you’d used, you went to find some decent clothing for an outing. Comfort was still key today, so some leggings and a sweatshirt were your goal. 

The conversation with her carried on into your bedroom, while you found clothes to wear. She was doing most of the talking as you figured out what to wear. A bigger black sweatshirt, black leggings, and black fuzzy socks. And a maternity bra today. The sports bras were decent, but the maternity bras felt much better, if you were given the choice. 

You took a minute to relieve your ear from Elsie’s rambling. When you pulled the phone away, she was still going on and on about something slightly crotchety your grandmother had said offhandedly that morning.

And when you took a break from her talking, your head cleared enough that you decided to put on a little bit of makeup. 

So, rather than continuing to be rude and ignore her spiel, you ended up telling her to just ‘be patient and wait for a few minutes’  in the car. You made sure to tack on a promise that you’d be down soon.

After she hung up with one last ‘hurry up!,’ you finished your mascara with a final comb over your left lashes. You brushed through your hair a couple of times in front of your full body mirror. And when you were observing your chosen outfit, your eyebrows drew in when you looked better at the dark material of the sweatshirt in the mirror. Bavarian Inn? This didn’t belong to you. . . You didn’t recognize it and it fit slightly bigger than your other sweaters. 

The closer you looked, the more you noticed it gave a specific location for the Inn. . . Frankenmuth, Michigan — the guys’ hometown. Right below the name of the hotel. Did this belong to Jake. . .? It could’ve been Josh’s, Sam’s, or Danny’s. . . . You knew it belonged to one of them, thanks to the Michigan reference. You were almost sure of it. 

But, still, an idea struck in your head.

You snapped a few quick selfies in the bigger sweatshirt. You made sure to angle the camera in a way that helped you feel confident and cute, while also showing the sweater. Your toes wiggled nervously in your white, fuzzy socks. 

You noticed your hair flowed over your shoulder beautifully. It helped you feel a little more confident in your idea.

After taking a few seconds to critique the photos, you chose the best one and sent it to Jake. 

Deep breath in. Why were you even anxious? His face had literally been between your thighs twelve hours ago.  

You, 12:23 p.m.: Yours? 

You, 12:23 p.m.: Or Theo’s? 🤔

For a second, you questioned if it was a good idea to send it. . . You were clearly just starting shit. But, glancing back at your bed, you remembered what had happened on it just a little more than twelve hours ago and how it was cut short by Jake and his girlfriend’s commitment. And, any sort of anxiety over sending it dissipated. 

And the idea that his girlfriend might see your text was fucking thrilling.

You clicked the phone closed, not wanting to watch and wait for a response. As you walked to the living room, you rubbed a hand over your belly before you stopped to give Stevie a few rubbies. She had hopped up on the back of the couch to bid you farewell. With one more twirl to her tail, you gave her back a gentle scratch before telling her you’d see her later.

Then, in no time, your belt bag was slung over your shoulder—almost good to go. As you laced up your trusty white, high-top Chucks, you felt your phone buzz in your belt bag. And simultaneously, you heard Elsie in the back of your head telling you to get your ass to the car. 

So, after slipping on your thicker coat to combat the cooler temperatures, you quickly made your way out of the apartment. 

It felt like old times to, once again, sit in the passenger seat of your Grandma’s old BMW. It was on its way to becoming a family heirloom, at this point. The car, having been new when you and Elsie had been kids. 

“Broke out this old clunker, hm?” You asked with a lilt in your tone. Even though you’d been in the car for a few minutes already, the shivering was nonstop with the shocking drop in temperature outside. Leaning forward a bit, belly tucked in the crook of your thighs, you placed your hands in front of the heat. After a couple beats, you were already feeling slightly better. 

And warm, warm, warm.

Man. While it was undoubtedly the coldest day so far for December of ‘22, the older car’s intense heat worked wonders. And it was quickly making you regret the coat. 

Without another thought, you were throwing off the offensive, heavy coat and throwing it in the pristinely kept backseat. Though, you knew, if Elsie took ownership of this car when she moved back, it wouldn’t stay like that for much longer. She was terrible at keeping a car clean. Unfortunately. Because, in all honesty, the car had been kept in great condition for its age. You’d expect no less from your Grandma, who kept everything sparkly clean. It was hardly a ‘clunker’. But it was still much older than your Jetta. 

“Did you hear nothing I said on the phone?” Elsie accused, but her voice indicated she wasn’t angry. She snorted a laugh before she spoke again. “I swear if Jake was up there with his whore of a girlf—.”

“Elsie!”

“Shut the fuck up,” she responded, rolling out of the lot in the vintage silver car. “You know you don’t like her.”

Rather than agreeing, you gave a bullshit response to save face. “Els, I’m trying to be better about respecting–.”

“Stop. She’s heinous and we don’t like her. It’s okay to say that, babe,” Elsie insisted, driving smoothly through a red light when she definitely shouldn’t have. “You, of all people, hold the right to bitch about the bitch.”

“Okay, Red Light Fuckin’ Special,” you poked at her, pulling down the mirror to swipe your lips with chapstick. “Jesus.”

“Red Light Special. . .,” She hummed, clicking her nails against the stereo as she turned up the Ariana Grande song. “That’s what Josh calls me when I go down at a red li—.”

“Okay, no,” you gagged, pretending to vomit at the thought. “Not this early in the day.”

“It is not early. It’s past noon. Damn, sleepy pants. ‘S like you’re carrying another life or something,” Elsie jested, looking over at you just as you did her, offering you a wink. “And that was no red light special, sis. No, no. California Roll is what I like to call that little move,” she jokingly boasted, tossing her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder. 

After the move, she did a little jig with her shoulders to a key change in the song, belting the lyrics from the top of her lungs. 

You couldn’t help but momentarily join in, letting “Santa Baby” by Ariana and Liz flow past your lips, fresh with Baby Lips chapstick. 

After sharing a giggle, you glanced at her from the corner of your eye after checking your very janky nails. “Can we get a manicure today?”

“Oh yes please,” she begged, sniffing a bit as she turned into the nearest Waffle House. Your favorite, trusted location. Just a few blocks from your apartment. “Christmas nails?”

“Ohhhh yes,” you agreed, placing your Baby Lips back in your belt bag. “But let’s do something subtle since it’s almost Christmas,” you laughed, zipping up your bag. The pocket with your phone buzzed again, reminding you of its earlier notification as you’d tied your Chucks.

Oh, yeah. . .Jake. You’d actually kind of forgotten about him.

You took Elsie’s momentary distraction with her lipstick in her mirror to check your phone. 

When you saw you had five texts from him, your tummy flipped and a sly grin pulled at your lips. You loved the way his name looked on your screen. You really did. And you were really hoping you’d gotten to him with your text. . . if even just a little bit.

Jake, 12:25 p.m.: what the fuck?? 

Jake, 12:25 p.m.: yes, y/n. It’s mine. I’m from Frankenmuth. Why the fuck would he have been to a tiny ass town like my hometown?

Jake, 12:30 p.m.: did you invite that fucker over last night or something? After hanging out with Elsie and Josh? Is that why you’re wondering if it’s his?

Jake, 12:31 p.m.: actually. Never mind that question. It’s not my place to care

Jake, 12:33 p.m.: I just hope the sweatshirt is keeping you warm enough

You couldn’t wipe the silly grin off your face or shoo away the butterflies going erratic in your tummy at his several texts in a row. Unbeknownst to you, though, Elsie had caught you, apparently. 

“What did Jake say?” 

What? How did she–? Your phone wasn’t even in her line of sight.

Y/n, the voice in your head said, sounding like Elsie as well. Be so for real. . . She knows you better than anyone.

But still, after opening and closing your mouth like a fish for a solid thirty seconds or more, you asked her. 

“How do you know it’s Jake?”

Fuck! Why didn’t you deny it?

Because there’s no point and you know it, the voice seemed to laugh at you. No point in lying to someone who will catch you in it.

 She didn’t answer you right off the bat, just curled her lips in a knowing grin as she raised a brow at you. You continued looking over at her, feeling stupid and not knowing what else to do. You shrugged, bugging your eyes with a shake of your head as if to say ‘what?!’. She looked like she was about to explode with laughter, with the way her lips shook and her eyes brightened mischievously. 

“How do I know it’s–?” She squeaked, a giggle finally escaping her lips. “Y/n– babe. Sis. Please. Don’t even act like I don’t know you’ve been imagining him in your bed every night since you found out in October. Probably even before you found out, too!” She exclaimed, sneaking a glance over at you as she turned the volume down. “You know I fucking know. It’s me!”

Obviously, you knew she was right. But you weren’t going to just let her get off that easily.

“Did Josh tell you anything?” You asked, suspicious that the activities from your game night had been exposed to your older sister.

“Maybe he spilled some information after your sad ass got out of the car last night. . .,” she smirked, eyebrows scrunched together in faked thought. 

“My ‘sad ass’? I was totally fine last nigh–.”

“Stop lying to me!” She rolled her eyes with a laugh in disbelief, the pitch in her voice raising with exasperation. “I heard Jake during our phone call and Josh put two and two together when we picked you up.”

“What did he–? How did he know anyth–?”

“He saw Maya’s car when we got there, I guess. Didn’t say anything about his little clue until the night was over though. After I brought up how depressed you’d acted all night long.”

“I didn’t act depressed, Elsie. God,” you corrected her, knowing she was most definitely the correct one. 

You knew you’d acted beaten down. Stupid – should’ve used last night to have fun rather than playing your turn of events over and over again in your head. Last night should have been a night of celebration that your sister was finally home (for good). 

You should have enjoyed the movie about Whitney fucking Houston while indulging in delicious food at Nitehawk during the movie. 

The stress eating had been unavoidable – especially when the menu had come out and your favorite dish had practically screamed your name. The root beer float and Charlie Bucket after your meal had been a pure act of self care for your broken heart. But. . . you’d still wound up sobbing during the final scene of the movie over much more than the obviously heartbreaking death of Whitney. Because, as she’d sung those songs, all that had appeared in your head was a reel of you and Jake. 

So, as Elsie and Josh had sung the movie soundtrack from the top of their lungs on the way home, you’d continued to silently sulk in the backseat as you finished the gummies in your Charlie Bucket. Your hood had been up and over your head to conceal your emotions. Said head, having laid dramatically against the car window as they’d had the time of their lives in the front seat. 

Okay. . . . Maybe you had been transparent in your emotions. 

“Yeah. . . You’re remembering, huh? Little Miss Depressed McMopey,” she smirked, although the smile didn’t reach her eyes as she seemed to be feeling your reminiscent melancholy with you. Not ever one to let you sit in your sadness for too long, she was squeezing your arm to bring you back to the moment. Your eyes snapped up to hers, the light in her blue irises brightened your spirits once more. “There she is. . .,” she paused, rubbing your arm until you were giving her the best smile you could manage. It wasn’t hard to put one on — not with Els; she made you feel at peace just by existing. “Now. . . back to Jake’s hands being all up in your no-no square during game night.”

At your open mouthed squeak, reminiscent to Lizzie-fucking-McGuire, she bursted out with a laugh. 

“Ohhh yeah, y/n,” she chuckled knowingly, blinking a few times for emphasis. “Oh. Yeah.”

Your mouth continued to gape, questions spilling past your lips in choppy sentences and barely intelligible words. To be fair, you were in shock at the sudden change in topic — the fact that she knew. 

“Josh told me everything. Well. . . everything he knows at least,” she cut into your sounds, your mouth momentarily clamping shut. “The rest I can piece together because you, sis, are my favorite puzzle to try and solve – always have been, always will be. It’s because you’re a fun puzzle for me. . . I put every piece together every damn time.”

You stared her down. Brows furrowed in contemplation and simmering annoyance. The fire that licked your veins was at Joshua for exposing you to her before you’d gotten the guts to say anything. “What is ‘everything’? What all did he divulge?” You were finally able to spit something out, your tone begging her to give more information. There was no hiding anything from her. No point in hiding anything in the first place – she was always going to figure you out — one way or another. 

She was right. She did solve your puzzle ‘every damn time’. 

She stayed quiet, smirking like a little rat. And curiosity getting the best of you as you squirmed under her knowing look. Like a petulant child, you crossed your arms over your chest, twitching your nose. “And what in the hell happened to my sweet best friend, Josh, who’s never liked exposing other peoples’ shit? He’s just decided that he’s done keeping my business, my business? Now he’s making it his to share–?”

“Oh, babe,” she interrupted you. “You two made it everyone’s business the other night, from what I heard. . . So, no. Josh still keeps shit to himself that isn’t his to share, but. . . he recalled his memory to me. My ears had to hear all of the details that you two exposed everyone to. It is not his fault that he had to witness pornography–.”

“He has got to stop with the porn shit,” you argued back, grasping for something to keep up your end of the conflict. “And it wasn’t ‘us two’. It was Jacob who started shit like that in front of everyone. I was an innocent party – a casualty at the hands of his attack.”

“Oh, yes. Little Miss Innocent. Mhm,” she snorted, turning the volume completely off before pinning you with a stare. “You definitely weren’t spreading your legs for your baby daddy. Right next to his damn girlfriend and everything.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, wimpily facepalming with one hand at her recollection. You didn’t know why you were fighting her on this. She was completely right and you knew it. Josh wouldn’t lie and Elsie wouldn’t bullshit you. The story she was telling sounded like the absolute truth and there was no getting around what she knew.

Besides, you could really use Elsie’s expertise on the situation. 

“He started it,” you moaned, placing both hands on your face to cover yourself a bit more. Even if it was Elsie, your sister who knew you best of all, you’d been caught red handed. And you were embarrassed.  You still couldn’t believe it had happened — in front of everyone. 

But, it had. And you had to own up to it once more. So, you released your face to look her in the eyes. Get it over with. “I couldn’t fucking resist. Because, yes, Elsie. Big ‘ol fucking shocker. You are right and I haven’t stopped wanting Jake in my bed. Not once,” you rambled, eyes widening to emphasize your point as you explained. “Practically since the moment I met him – even when he was acting like a prick. Since the beginning, I’ve wanted him. Yes. And the whole ‘being pregnant with his baby’ thing just makes matters worse, so give me. a fucking. break.”

There you go. You said it and there was no taking it back now. 

Would you look at that? Admitting things to yourself at the same time you were admitting them to your sister. Was it considered growth? Gia would probably say so. 

“Caught ya. But I knew all of that already,” she snickered, turning up the seat warmer on her side, showing her intrigue. “So, what did he say that no one heard? I need the tiny details. I know everything else. Did you two end up fuckin’ or what?”

Well. Not quite. So, you’d deny. As long as you could.

“No! He has a girlfriend, Elsie.” 

Didn’t stop you last night. Come on, y/n. . . 

You shook your head at the inner voice taunting you. “Even if I do want him, I shouldn’t want him,” you mumbled, knowing that was the truth. No matter what had happened, you were wrong for wanting him. “Whether his baby is inside of me or not, I shouldn’t. Morality is a thing, you know.”

Yeah. Morality means so much after last night. You are so right, y/n. Morality Queen. In the flesh. 

Memories and moments from the night prior were bouncing around in your head, playing a game of torture and mockery as you said one thing while re-living another. Your moans as he’d devoured you, everywhere. His naked body, under your hands. Your tits, held so well in his hands. The emotional exchanging of words. His dick, just about to enter you. . . Had it not been for–.

“Mhm,” she replied, lips pursed as she narrowed her eyes at you. “But you do want him. So. . . Fucking take him. I am sure you two have already fucked again anyway. So, the morality bullshit means virtually nothing at this point.”

“We haven’t had sex again, Elsie,” you grumbled, brushing a hand through your hair as your phone buzzed again in your hands. At the feeling against your thigh, you suddenly got terrified that you’d accidentally recorded and sent this entire conversation. Fuck. You hurriedly picked up your phone in shaky hands to check for any accidental recordings. 

When you glanced at your screen, you saw a new text from Jake. But you barely cared until you opened your text thread with him to find out if you’d accidentally sent anything. . .

But, you found no accidental messages when you checked your thread. Thank god. You hadn’t sent anything. All that greeted you were his (now six) texts sitting and awaiting a response. The five from earlier, still glaring at you. 

His most recent one yanked your heart from your chest and shoved it into your throat, though. Your eyes slid down the screen, taking in every word.

Jake, 12:47 p.m.: I’m really sorry for being an ass. I know I shouldn’t ask you about him. But just like you hate thinking about Maya and me, I hate thinking about you and him. But I know I shouldn’t ask you shit. Just know I miss you and I really do hope the sweatshirt has kept you and our baby girl warm in the fuckin frigid weather. I checked Brooklyn’s forecast today and it’s cold for you guys. So please stay warm. You don’t need to be getting sick

You couldn’t read that and not respond to him – especially when you’d been the one to stir shit during a morning already wrought with tense text messages. . . after a night like last night. 

So, even as Elsie cleared her throat in anticipation, you gave her a sideways glance. “Just give me a sec, Els,” you insisted, already typing out your response to him.

“Is it Jake?”

“Fuck, Elsie!” You whined, blinking once at your screen before your eyes flew to glare at her. “Yes, Elsie Mabel. It is Jake,” you sneered, irritable and hungry. And, due to being very much pregnant, those two things were enhanced tenfold, making your blood heat. And, quite frankly, your head was swimming with lovesickness for the man on the other side of the phone – who was way too far away for your fucking liking, thanks to his bitch of a girlfriend. 

“And, if you must know, while we haven’t had sex, it is not for lack of fucking trying. Last night, my dear, dear sister, his face was most definitely between my thighs,” you stated, watching her jaw drop. Both of her dainty hands went to her mouth to cover a giant, shit-eating grin. “Yes, Elsie. You are right. It is exciting. I’d love to smile and celebrate with you,” you feigned glee, sarcasm dripping from your tone when a sneer met your lips with your next words. “However, it can’t be completely exciting. Because, that blissful act had almost turned into sex. His dick was right there—waiting for fucking entry and everything.” You took a moment to consider if you’d said too much. But you didn’t care enough to contemplate it much more than that. “But, Elsie, your interrupting phone calls and Maya’s quite unexpected arrival made that shit impossible for us. His dick, taken away from me and wrapped, yet again, behind a fucking towel.” pausing, you reeled in your dramatics (again, you were pregnant. Emotions were high. . . And, admittedly, you were still very wound up from last night). 

You gave her a moment to let the shock fade however it could before you were looking back at your phone screen. “Now, please, let me finish this fucking text.”

You, 12:54 p.m.: Jake. Stop. I am the one who started it with my texts. So, please, don’t apologize for getting upset. I wanted to make you upset and THAT was wrong of ME. I was the one being an ass. For no reason whatsoever. And I am the one sorry for THAT. It was stupid. Seriously. 

You, 12:55 p.m.: Also, I am staying warm. Your sweatshirt is very comfy and I am wearing my big coat and thick socks. 

And while you really didn’t want to send the next text, you still did. It was what was right. 

You, 12:56 p.m.: Now, please. Spend time with Maya and don’t worry about me. I don’t want to take any more of your time away from her. Put your phone down and focus on her. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine and I will see you when you get back. 

Not wanting to do it at all, you couldn’t deny the validity in the idea that instantly sprung to your mind to keep him away. It was a good idea.

You, 12:56 p.m.: In fact, I’ll put my phone on Do Not Disturb to remind you to not reach out. I would like for you to enjoy your time with her without being bothered by me and my antics.

Doing just what you said you would, you took a moment to switch your phone onto Do Not Disturb and locked your phone before angrily shoving it in your belt bag. You really fucking hated saying all of that shit about Maya. You hated the entire situation. All of it. Every side of your predicament sucked ass. The only thing that didn’t make you want to punch a wall was Lavender. 

You felt tears well in your eyes at the thought of her and let yourself wallow for a minute as you tried to take steady breaths. Your eyes focused on the offensive bright yellow color of the Waffle House in front of you as your mind swirled with thoughts of your future. Your baby.

She was a prize that you continuously didn’t deserve. And, selfishly, you were so ready to just hold her and feel like your pain through all of this was worth something. Because, no matter what, even if your heart broke for Jake every day, this baby was the best thing that could’ve come from what the two of you had always seemed to have. The thing between you and Jake that had never been for his best interest. A ridiculous mess you’d created. . . The night you made her, the one validating part of your selfish ideas that had come to fruition. 

Nothing else had ever worked in favor of you two, most likely due to the fact that you two weren’t supposed to work. And, you were absolutely the sole cause for that. Fuck you and fuck everything that made you so damn screwed up and unworthy of a pure love.

No, y/n. Stop it. Don’t do this, the voice in your head that mimicked Gia insisted. Out with the negative, reach for the positive. 

You put a hand to your tummy, taking a deep breath in and out as you wiped your cheeks. A few stray tears littered the skin. As you came back to, you realized Elsie’s delicate hand on your thigh, giving intermittent squeezes in time with your breathing. You imagined she’d been doing it the entire time you’d sulked. You looked up and to your left, leveling your sister with a look.

She was, surprisingly, patiently waiting. Wasn’t pushing you to say anything. Her own eyes were shining with emotion at your internal battle that you knew she knew all too well.  

Rather than saying anything to continue your conversation, though, you eyed the time on the stereo. And, upon checking it, you realized how you’d wasted your morning. It was gone and afternoon was here and you had to work soon. Fuck it all.

With a defeated sigh and slouch against your seat, you grumbled at your sister with a sideways glance. “I have to be at work in an hour and a half. And I still want to get nails done. Can we just get breakfast at Starbucks or something?”

Without a word, Elsie gave your leg one final grip before she flipped back to the front and put the car in drive. “Absolutely, babe.”

“I’m sorry,” you moaned. “I’m ruining our day together.”

“Get out of your damn head and don’t say sorry. You haven’t ruined anything,” she quipped, coming to her first stoplight before reaching over to hold your hand. With a lone tear in your eye, you looked over to listen as she continued. “We will get Starbs, get our nails done, I’ll take you to work. . . and then, tonight, we can go get something to eat and rot on the couch while we watch a Christmas movie.”

The plan sounded wonderful, actually, so you said as much and thanked her for loving you. She’d waved you off, but you did have a thought that made your heart feel a little fuller as she turned into Starbucks. So, you voiced the thought with a request. “Can Josh join tonight?”

“Do you want him to?”

“Yes please,” you answered with a barely there smile, pulling yourself up from your slumped position the best you could with the added weight at your waist. The task proved a little more difficult than you would have liked, but Elsie was distracted as she was already calling  Josh to ask him. 

You glumly realized as they spoke that if Jake were here, he would have helped you into a sitting position. He would have made sure you were comfortable before doing anything else. He would have then placed his hand over your own, which still laid contentedly on your bump. 

And. . . the tears were tempting your tear ducts once more as Elsie hung up with Josh and moved forward the slightest bit in the long ass line.

You tried your best to conceal your sniffles, but she’d caught onto one and reached to hold your hand once more. At her touch, your skin felt a little warmer and you held tight to her sure hand. Your other palm never left your baby, not letting up on that feeling for a second, either. 

“Josh said you pick where we eat and you pick the movie and that none of us are a fan of Jake being gone so close to the holidays.”

“I never said–.”

“Babe, you don’t have to say it,” Elsie snickered, pulling up behind the car that was ordering at the speaker. “What do you want?”

You were about to answer by telling her to get your usual, but you knew you probably shouldn’t be drinking that much caffeine, so you settled on yet another hot chocolate. You’d never been the biggest fan of hot cocoa. At least, not so much to drink it multiple times in a week like you had this week. But, apparently the baby liked it, as you were suddenly craving it like no other as you eyeballed it on the menu. 

When you told her what you wanted, she raised a brow. She was thinking the same exact thing as you – knew that you only drank the beverage on special occasions, never one to seek it out.

“The baby must like it,” you responded, a shaky smile coming to rest on your lips. 

Even if your eyes were still watering, the thought of Lavender someday asking for hot chocolate at a Starbucks drive thru made your heart happy. 

You cleared your throat and shook your head, starting to feel a lot better already. “I think it’s like the third time I’ve had it this week or something.”

Elsie raised a brow at you as she pulled up to the speaker and gave her order. You gazed out the windshield, watching in awe as the hoards of cars pulled out onto the busy streets. A lot of people were late to Christmas shopping, it seemed. . . 

“So, are you thinking you’re going to end up fucking him again?”

Even though the words were a stark contrast to your thoughts, they didn’t make you jolt a bit. Now that it was out in the open, you were glad to discuss it with her. You’d kind of been waiting to talk to her about it. The thought hadn’t stopped lurking in the back of your mind since last night. It persisted in a way that it felt natural for her to ask, coinciding with your revolving door of Jake-centered thoughts. 

“I don’t know,” you breathed in deeply through your nose, letting it out slowly through your mouth. Your eyes caught sight of a little girl across the way. She couldn’t have been more than three, with long brown hair and a sweet face. Her round little baby face, bright with a grin. In spite of yourself, you grinned at the sight as she walked with her mother. “I hope I get to have that with him again. Just one more time, at the very least. But. . . I know I shouldn’t hope so.”

“Why?” 

“He–.”

“And don’t say it’s because he’s taken,” she cut you off, pointing a finger towards you, inching up in line bit by bit. 

“But that’s the harsh truth, Els.”

“Well, it’s not the only ‘harsh truth’,” she clarified, making you raise a brow. “The other truth is that you are entitled to want the man. I mean, considering you are providing a bodily home for his baby everyday. . . Come on,” she shook her head as if to imply that her point was obvious. 

“Also, his cunt of a girlfriend needs to grow the fuck up. Needs to get it through her damn head that she needs to take a step back. And the next time she says any shit about my niece. . .,” She moved forward in line, huffing a quick breath from her mouth, as if working to relax any oncoming anger. “She doesn’t want to try. Not in front of me, at least. Because, not only is she insulting Lav, she’s insulting you and you are doing something she should fucking respect.”

At her words, you shook your head. . . you agreed — to an extent. But. . . she definitely had the right to not want you to fu—.

“And, what Josh told me. . . He said you and Jake, during that game – when you did each other in front of our friends, that bitch, and the entirety of Brooklyn, New York,” she began. You snorted at her with a roll of your eyes as she kept on. “He said she looked about ready to snap. So, surely that’s why she bit your head off, right? Said that ugly shit the baby?” 

“I’m sure.”

“Did Jake hear her? Josh didn’t tell me.”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell Jake? That she said that?”

“No.”

“And why not?” She asked, sort of accusing and critically. “It’s his prerogative to know that she’s talking like that about his baby.”

“I just don’t think it’s the time to bring it up. . . It wasn’t something so alarming that I feel the need to tell him, either,” you explained, feeling as though you were making excuses for Maya’s actions. Why did you care to defend Maya, of all people? Because you felt guilty? Probably. Goddamn. Your emotions were so back and forth. “She’ll slip up again, surely.”

“So now we just wait?”

“Yep,” you shrugged, not knowing what else to tell her. “I guess.”

“And, even if it meant you’d get to fuck him tomorrow if you told him today, you still wouldn’t?”

“I just don’t think it’s my place, Els,” you reluctantly answered, knowing she had a point. But, still. You had to err on the side of what was right. And it felt right to keep your mouth shut. Didn’t want to tell him she’d been hateful just so you could get him in bed (even though you knew it would be for more than that). “If he’s meant to hear something, he will.”

“You are a better woman than me, sis,” she replied, pulling up to the window with a cheerful greeting before paying and intercepting the drinks with a ‘thank you!’. 

As she pulled out a touch too quickly, you lurched forward in your seat, almost spilling your drink. “Okay, could we maybe take things a little slower, Elsie?”

“Don’t wanna spill on Jake’s sweatshirt?”

“Fuck off. How do you know it’s—?”

“It says Frankenmuth on the front, dumbass. Josh doesn’t own shit like that and I don’t know why Sammy or Danny’s clothes would be at your place.” 

You glared at her, at which she flicked her eyes over to you. When she looked, you said your piece. “Thank you so much for calling me a dumbass.”

“That’s all you heard from that?” 

“Yes. Your stupid ass correcting tone pissed me off, so I stopped listening after that.”

She blew out a breath as she made all of the correct turns to get to your favorite nail salon. “You really need to get some because you’re in desperate need of an attitude adjustment.”

“All because I told you to drive carefully and don’t like being called a dumbass?”

“Well, I just think you should let yourself have him.”

You groaned, exasperated that she was using anything to bring it up. 

Your warm drink was held in between your cupped hands, making you delightfully shiver for more reasons than one. You nestled the cup in your lap, letting the heat radiate all the way up your arms. “It’s not that simple.”

“Well, I happen to think it is,” she encouraged, pulling into the parking lot of the salon. “And you’ve always respected my advice, so. . . consider just giving in to what you want.”

Not able to believe you were yet again giving the idea any sort of weight, you unbuckled your seatbelt as Elsie did hers as well. “Even if people could get hurt?”

“Who the hell is going to get hurt besides Maya, the Massive Cunt?”

“Um,” you wrinkled your brow with a tilt of your head before bringing your drink up to your lips for a tiny sip. “Maybe Jake? Who didn’t ask for any of this and just got it thrown on him? After he went to her? After he chose her over me because I was the bitch who broke his heart? He could ultimately miss out on true happiness because of me giving in to a selfish need — yet again.”

“I’m going to ignore most of that because you know it’s bullshit and that he wants you, too,” Elsie argued, finally taking a drink of her White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha. She hummed in satisfaction at the taste, her eyes closing momentarily. “If you give Jake your coochie-pop, do you really think he’s going to be hurt?”

“Coochie-pop?”

“Your wishing well, honey pot, poontang, dripping delta, whisker box–.”

You couldn’t help but squawk, the hilarious names for a vagina killing you. “Whisker box?!” 

“. . .Because it’s your pussy?. . .” She asked, as if you were completely unaware of what she was implying. “Get it?”

“No, I know exactly what you meant,” you corrected her train of thought, shaking your head before combing a hand through your hair. Blowing out another breath, you couldn’t help the giggle that followed it. 

“Well. Whatever you want to call it, you know I’m right,” she concluded, giving you a satisfied grin before opening her door. “Now, let’s go get our nails done and we can compare how each twin refers to our pus–.”

“Nope!” You answered enthusiastically, awkwardly angling yourself to grab your coat from the backseat. Out of breath at the simple task, you knew you’d still obtained it the best you could with the obtrusion of a belly. And while you loved the baby, — so much — it was still frustrating getting used to the extra addition at your front. In a rush, you put it on before getting out. 

She was already at the shop door when you closed the passenger side, waiting for you. When you met her there, you finished your thought. “That conversation, my dearest sister, is not one I’d like to partake in.”

“Seriously?” 

Your eyes bulged out of your sockets at her, your hands tucking deep into your pockets to warm up from the crisp chill of the wind as it bitterly whipped against your face. Reaching a bit further in your pockets, you tried to grasp for Elsie’s missing sanity. “Yes, Elsie! Seriously!”

“I just want you to know,” she began, walking into the warm shop after you. Both of you shook off the chill from the winter day once you were safe inside. “That whenever you finally give in and do the dirty with him again, I will be selfless and listen to you if you wish to discuss it with anyone.”

You shushed her, looking around at the other occupants of the salon. They were oblivious to her, thankfully, as the shop played Christmas classics to drown out obnoxious people like your sister. 

“Whatever, Elsie. You’re just nosy as hell,” you rolled your eyes with a grin before turning your attention to the cute little lady at the front counter, who you knew to own the studio. 

The tiny woman with inky black locks, tied in a clip at the back of her head, nodded with a smile as she wrote you into the schedule for your nail requests. She told you it would be about ten minutes to get you with a tech, so you decided to take one of the chairs that sat in a row against the windows at the front of the store. Your feet were not in the mood for you to be standing any longer than necessary – especially since you still had to work today.

Elsie grabbed some colors for the two of you to look at on her way to sit beside you. She handed you a Christmas color swatch that you instantly began perusing as she looked through the other palette of winter colors. “Sparkly?” She questioned from your left. 

You pursed your lips in contemplation as you studied the non-sparkly DND colors in your hands. The plainness of the dark Aurora Green and Cherry Mocha appealed to you more than the colors she held, as you glanced over to give the sparkly polishes a chance.

“I think I wanna go with no sparkles,” you decided, bringing your swatch up to show her before pointing to the Aurora Green. “I’m really leaning towards this dark green.”

“Ooh, I love,” she encouraged, leaning over you to toss her colors in the basket next to you. “What’s the number?”

“747,” you recited as she typed it into her phone, before crossing her legs and tucking the device back into the crease she’d made between her thighs. Copying her previous action, you deposited your nail colors into the wicker basket. 

You tucked your hands under your belly and leaned back against the window. All of the women around you, either chatting it up or engrossed in their phones. The sight made a thought come to you. Looking over at your sister, the back of your head still balanced against the cool window, you voiced your realization to gauge her opinion. “Els—I just thought. . . I haven’t posted a picture on any of my socials of my belly or said a damn thing anywhere about being pregnant.”

“Well, do you want to?” She wondered aloud, chewing the inside of her lip (something you both did). 

“You know, now that I’ve thought about it, I feel like I’m not going to stop thinking about it until I do it,” you responded, leaning up from your position to get your phone out of your belt bag that was still slung across your chest. When you saw zero notifications, you remembered your Do Not Disturb idea and quickly checked your call log to see if you’d missed anyone important. 

No one. Wow. You were so damn popular. You left that app to go to Pinterest to look at some pose ideas. And, hard as it was, you avoided going to your texts. Because, you figured if it was important enough, you’d have gotten a call from anyone who might’ve texted you. 

You simply did not want to face the reality of Jake adhering to your ridiculous request. 

When you looked over at Elsie from the corner of your eye, she was already looking at her own Pinterest app. And while you had simply typed ‘maternity announcement poses’, your scheming sister had typed ‘sexy boudoir maternity poses.’

“Elsie Mabel!” You reprimanded her with a laugh, bumping her shoulder with your own. “Why the sexy? And definitely no boudoir. Are you kidding?”

“What?!” She said, giving you a wink. At which, you just shook your head and mouthed a final ‘no’. Growling, you watched as she deleted the ‘boudoir’, but noticed how she kept the ‘sexy’. “And — before you get onto me for keeping the sexy, I will let you know: you get better results if you throw in a word like that.”

You really weren’t so offended by that idea. The boudoir was just too much. Honestly, playing around with some sexy pictures, with the bonus of Elsie’s time and help. . . It might even aid in boosting your mood. And, you had to say. . . your body confidence was definitely better since last night, you could say that much. 

Jake had done a wondrous job at making you feel very appealing and truly attractive. Fuck, you wished you could go back in time and change the night’s turn of events. Ridiculous ass luck.

Squeezing your legs tighter together, you did as she said and typed the same into your search bar. You even tacked on ‘black and white’ because you liked the idea of that, too. . . 

And damn were you happy with the results. 

“Oookay, Els. . . You might be onto something,” you said appreciatively, nudging her shoulder once more as you found one to show her. 

Right off the bat, there was one pose in particular you knew you had to use. When you pointed to it to show her, she stuck her bottom lip out to show respect for the idea. “His shirt, too?” She asked with a sly brow. 

All you did was wink at her before pinning the scandalous picture to your brand new board.  

a/n: i love you all an inexplicable amount. you have no idea. covet is my baby + i think it's time i thank you all, once again, for loving her w me :') i wouldn't be where i am today without your support, my loves :''')

also..... after being asked several times, i gave in to the temptation... i finally took some time today to update the Covet Visualizer i made when covet was just an infant :') lol. you may view it if you'd like. however, you don't NEED TO. i simply am a very visual person, sooo i made it for my fellow visual learners/lovers. (IF YOU DO CHOOSE TO USE IT, PLEASE VIEW IT IN PRINT LAYOUT!! — esp if you’re using the docs app/are on your phone!!)

Taglist (continued in reblog):

@joshym, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlover, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @jennyraye20

I always try to tag everyone, but you all know how it goes! ughhh (taglist will be cont. in reblog !!) Please make sure you’re filling out my Google Form if you would like to be tagged and aren’t already on the taglist! <3

[latteunwoo]

meet-cute!vernon

to be fair, the two of you did share a lot in common

one of those things being that the two of you shared the same braincell (this was endorsed by wonwoo who watched yours and vernon's first meeting unfold)

you finally had a free day from both school and work and decided to take a little walk around the city and check out the music store across the street from the coffee shop you always get your morning coffee from

the store wasn't very big nor did it seem very popular as it was one of those hole in the wall places that you could only notice if you looked hard enough

that being said, there was probably like four other people besides yourself in the store

"welcome!" the store owner said as she welcomed you as you entered the store

you simply gave her a soft smile as you made your way through the crates filled of vinyl records towards the back of the store

as you reached out to grab a boys like girls vinyl that you had caught in the corner of your eye, another hand reached for it from the otherside as well making you jump not realizing someone else had been in the vinyl section as well

of course the boy jumped as well when you had jumped, causing the vinyl that was in both of your hands and your phone to fall onto the ground

"i'm so sorry, i didnt mean to scare you" he said as he reached down to help you pick the vinyl and your phone from the ground but instead ended up headbutting you as you both stood up again at the same time 😭

wonwoo couldnt help but laugh from the other side of the room

"and so it begins" wonwoo said to himself as he watched the interaction between the two of you

"oh my god, I am so sorry. are you okay?" vernon asked as you rubbed your forehead after the impact.

"i'm fine," you said as you looked up at him to see he had a red mark on his forehead, which made you start laughing.

vernon raised an eyebrow at you at first before you pointed to his forehead

"are you okay?" you asked as he rubbed his forehead a little then nodded

"yeah, I'm fine. does it look bad?"

you let out a small laugh, "kind of."

vernon unknowingly let out a small chuckle as he couldn't help but notice how cute your laugh was

once he had caught himself he quickly cleared his throat before looking back at the vinyl in your hand

you noticed his gaze and looked back at him

"um... are you going to get that?' he asked as you just nodded, "oh"

there was a small awkward silence betwen the two of you as you thought about what to say because it looked like he really wanted the vinyl too and there was only one left, however you've also been looking for this for a while

eventually a thought came to you, "it looks like you also want this vinyl and i don't think they'll have more stock of it until a few months from now so if you want i'd be willing to let you borrow it sometime. if that's okay with you?"

there was another silence between you two as he looked at you then the vinyl and back to you

"that's fine with him," wonwoo said from behind vernon as vernon quickly turned to his hyung with a look of 'what are you doing?!'

wonwoo just smiled at vernon and gave him a look of 'i'm trying to help you' before he went back to looking at the other vinyls

"um... so...." you said as even though wonwoo said it already you still wanted confirmation from vernon

"y-yeah sure that's fine with me." he said quickly as you nodded and took out your phone and gave it to him to put his number in

"i'll send you a text so you can save my number too and you can just message me whenever you want to borrow it um.... vernon," you said as you looked at the contact name he put on your phone and smiled up at him.

"yeah, for sure" vernon said, still trying to process just exactly what was currently happening.

"alright, well, i'll see you around," you said as you gave him a soft smile before walking back to the front of the store to purchase the vinyl.

as you walked away, vernon stood there still trying to process what had just happened.

"hyung, what just happened?" he asked as wonwoo laughed and patted vernon's shoulder

"you might have just gotten yourself a possible date"

vernon quickly turned around as wonwoo noticed his ears started to turn red, "what do you mean?!"

"what do i mean?", wonwoo asked as he let out a smal laugh, "i saw how you looked at her. it seems like you're interested in her so you're welcome."

"i didn't- that's not- ah, whatever," vernon said as he quickly walked away and wonwoo just laughed

that night, you had texted vernon to make sure that he also got your number and since that day you two began texing each other more often and finding out that you actually had a lot in common

seventeen m.list || main m.list

[pedriache]

idk if you’re hispanic/latino buttttt i NEED a pedri fic based off the song la santa by bad bunny (if you don’t know spanish you can just translate it and it’ll work jst fine) tyyyy i loveee ur work 🫶🫶

La santa — Pedri Gonzalez.

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader

Summary: You weren’t supposed to fall in love with Pedri, but it happened nonetheless. You knew what you were getting into when it all started and you both knew despite nothing ever going further than casual, you would always come running back.

Word count: 710

Disclaimer/s: Slightly Suggestive (?) , angst

A/N: OOOOH this song is lowk girl i’m nodding my head thank yew. i also really had no clue how to go about this .. i actually hate it so much sorry this was so bummy

Pedri was dressing quickly. Too quickly. You knew you shouldn’t have even proposed the idea of taking the relationship or… whatever you could call it, further. He always got jumpy when you’d ask for him to stay even a few extra minutes.

You leaned back against the headboard, a frown planted tightly against your lips as you watched him zip up his jeans. “Jesus christ, Pedri. It was a simple suggestion! You’re acting like I told you I was pregnant.”

The mans eyes widen as they shoot in your direction, “you aren’t.. pregnant. Right?” That elicited a loud groan from your lips.

“Oh lord.” You rub your temples before looking back to him. He still wore the same expression, nearly making you laugh as you shake your head. “No! I am not.”

“Thank God.” He huffs, reaching for his t-shirt.

You chew on your bottom lip, suddenly annoyed. “You know what? This has to stop. For good.” He continued dressing like you weren’t even speaking, so you add, “I’m serious.”

Pedri sighs, tugging the shirt over his head. “You said that last week, last month, and matter of fact, two days ago. You know damn well it’s not stopping.” His lip twitches at the corners, a smug grin forming ever so slowly.

That just furthered your annoyance because, unfortunately, it was the truth. It also pissed you off because if he’d just take you seriously and stayed away, you wouldn’t crawl back to him every time.

You’d tried to stop sending him that text or responding to his, but you were weak. Your resistance only lasted about five minutes before you caved. You simply couldn’t stay away from Pedri.

“It’s different this time, and you know it! I can’t wait around for you to feel—“

“Woah!” His hands shoot up, stopping you mid sentence. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Your lips clamp shut and your arms cross over your chest. “Well—“

“Cariño, you know it’ll never be reciprocated. You knew this the second we started the whole thing! Cut the lovey dovey act, I don’t need you doing that because I don’t know how to reciprocate it.” He finishes his rant, running a hand over his face as if the whole conversation was one big inconvenience.

Pedri leaned against the wall a few feet from your bedroom door, antsy for an escape yet also not wanting to leave you pissed off at him.

“This was only meant to be a fun thing.” He adds once the silence became deafening.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you frown. “Why though? Why is it such a terrible concept? You care about a lot of things, a lot of people, why would it be so different?”

His eyes dart to the door, he really needed to get out of here. “You know why. Just.. let’s keep this going and you’ll get over it, no? Why are you trying to mess with something thats fine just as it is?”

You were desperately trying to ignore the way your stomach churned at his words. The more he talked, the more you felt your heart sink. You knew damn well there was no changing Pedri and you most definitely knew better than to even have a sliver of hope.

“You’re right.” You finally force out, “no, yeah. I’m sorry I even thought about it.”

The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. Pedri heard it loud and clear and he almost felt guilty. Almost. But at the end of the day, he’d told you how he felt about relationships at the beginning of it all. He knew and you knew, exactly where he stood.

“I’ll see you when I get back from Sevilla, okay?” Pedri sighs, pushing himself off the wall.

Not daring to look at him, you stay quiet for a moment. A weak attempt at pushing him away, but you were just that. Weak.

“Yeah.” You huff, “make sure you lock the door on the way out.”

Pedri lifts one hand as a parting gesture, but you don’t return it and he leaves anyways. He leaves you feeling like an absolute idiot because you know when you get the text that he’s back in town, you’ll be waiting right where he left you.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, specific or all.

DTS , @halfwayhearted , @spidybaby , @gadriezmannsgirl !

[clownprincehoeshi]

Twisted Deception - Chapter 1

Synopsis: Betrayal and manipulation were always a constant in your life. Leading your family’s legacy as a mafia boss is not an easy task and most of the times can lead to losing the ones you love most. You’ve always kept away from love, but even is this dark and unforgiving world it finds you. But it also breaks you.

Pairing: mafia boss Mingyu x mafia boss reader

doctor Seungcheol x mafia boss reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, mafia au, angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: mafia scenarios, death, gun mentions, blood, car crash, cheating, sex scenes, nudity… will post others along the way if needed

Status: ongoing

Word count: 18k

Masterlist

You had no idea where you were or what day it was. To be honest, a little panic took over you, even though you’re not that type of person. You slowly start to see clearly how the room looks like. A neat, big, industrial style, with big windows and brick walls.

Seems to be in an isolated part of the city, low rise building, quiet. A voice was faint on the other side of the door. Getting up to walk and try to eavesdrop isn’t a good idea, feeling pain on your left leg, reminding you of the blood bath that took place the other night. Or was it two nights ago?

Your brain starts to work fast, making a list of chronological things that you need to do. Firstly, get the attention to the person that’s in the other room. If you’re not dead or locked in a dungeon, then you’re probably not in danger.

“Hello?” your voice low and tired

The second time you say it louder and you hear the voice stop, then steps. The door opens slowly and a man walks in.

“Oh, hi, you’re awake, good.”

“What happened? I don’t remember how I got here and I definitely don’t remember you.”

“I’m Seungcheol, I work at the hospital you were staying at. Two nights ago, you were in danger, there were some armed men that were looking for you, and you were close to collapsing so you asked me to get you out of there. So I brought you to my place, it’s the safest spot I could think of, sorry.”

“Does anyone know I am here?”

“No, because I don’t know your name and couldn’t get any information about you, since you were under maximum security, only your personal doctor knowing your info.” He says as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Well maybe that was for the best. But could I please make a phone call?”

He takes his phone out of his pocket and walks over to the bed to hand it to you. You fingers brush his as you take it. At that moment, you really look at his face and realize that he’s a good-looking guy. Very attractive indeed.

You dial Jun’s number, but immediately hang up, because he won’t answer strange numbers, so you send a text first and in 10 seconds he calls.

Jun: Oh my fucking god, are you ok? Where are you? Are you in danger? I’ll trace this phone and I’ll be there in 15 minutes.

Rua: Calm down, I am ok. Can you come get me?

Jun: Don’t even need to ask me that. I got in the car already.

Rua: Ok, well before you get here and make a scene, I am at someone’s house, a doctor from the hospital. He saved me last night and brought me to his place. Everything it’s fine, there is no danger, ok?!

Jun: Sure.

Rua: Jun? Promise you’ll behave.

Jun: Oookkk I promise. But I’ll still need to ask him some questions. Ok, got you location, see you soon.

Turning to Seungcheol, you offer his phone back, with a small “thank you”, as he holds your gaze.

Rua: My friend will come pick me up soon. Thanks for saving me. I should have said this sooner, sorry. My mind is all over the place.

Seungcheol: It’s fine, you’ve been shot and probably were on a lot of medication. I get it.

Rua: Do you know Seokjin?

Seungcheol: Yes, of course. We work together most days.

Rua: He’s my brother.

Seungcheol: Oh! Should we let him know?

Rua: No, it’s fine. I’ll call him when I get home.

You see him pacing carefully, his mind going 300 miles/hour, knowing there are questions coming. He slowly sits on the other corner of his bed, lifting his face to looks at you.

Seuncheol: If you don’t mind me asking. What happened to you, who shot you?

Rua: Umm, it’s a long story and I wouldn’t involve you into this mess. It was a shooting and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Seungcheol: Got it, I won’t push on it. But lucky you, I’m an orthopedist and I am specialized in recovery. So we’ll probably see each other often, if you plan to do your recovery at our hospital, that is.

Rua: I’ll speak to my bother about that, but if he’ll recommend you, then sure.

Seungcheol: Oh, I am such an awful host. Are you hungry, thirsty? You must be after you were out of it for so many hours.

Rua: Honestly, I am starving and I might drink like a bucket of water.

You give him a big smile and you notice the corners of his mouth going up a little, showing off a shadow of a smile. He doesn’t look so scary now.

In 5 minutes he’s back with a sandwich and a glass of water placed on a tray.

He’s watching you the whole time you’re devouring that sandwich and his tongue is itching on asking you questions. But he’s deciding to let you be. For now.

After some time, his intercom is going off. Must be Jun. You feel relieved. He goes to check and in less than one minute you hear noise, hurried steps towards you.

Jun walks inside the room and as he lays his eyes on you, he runs to the bed, hugging you. His eyes looking teary.

Jun: Omg, don’t ever do this again! We were fucking worried, I thought they got to you. I really thought I lost you.

Rua: I’m sorry, it was just how it happened. I wouldn’t be alive now if I stayed there. I made the mistake to think the hospital was safe and I guess the drugs were strong and made me dizzy. I was so lucky with Seungcheol. Btw, what are we going to tell him?

Jun: Seokmin is talking to him right now, leave it to him. But are you feeling ok? Are you in pain? We should get to Jin.

Rua: That’s probably a good idea, I feel like my leg is going to explode, hurts like a motherfucker.

He helps you get dressed, he brought some clothes for you. Then he carries you is his arms and this reminds him of two nights ago when he carried your limp bloodied body and his heart breaks. He thought he lost you not once, but twice, in only 3 days.

As he’s carrying you, you wave to Seungcheol, thanking him for everything. You nod at Seokming and he offers you a big smile.

Finally, you’re feeling safe. You’re with Jun now, and Minghao is waiting in the car. They brought another 2 cars filled with men, just in case.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

At the hospital, you told Jin that you will be staying at your place, no more sleeping at the hospital, and you’ll want a nurse. You just wanted to sleep until the pain went away and be away from everyone for a while.

For the next two weeks, as soon as Jin gave you the green light concerning your leg, you left the city. You only brought Jun and two guards with you on your huge home under the mountain. It was an isolated place, where you grandfather built an impressive house inside a literal mountain.

Nobody else knew about this, it was like your bunker, your safe place. You often came here when things were too much. Your life was never easy, always on the run, always planning, lying, manipulating, scheming, giving orders, trying to stay alive and keep your people alive.

You also never had a romantic relationship, thought there were some crushes here and there, but that was never something you could afford. Your legacy was more important than some men that would end up disappointing you anyway.

And being a mafia boss…how could you just tell that to a stranger? “Hey, btw, I am involved in the mafia and we kill people.” Never trust outsiders, unless they prove themselves.

3 days of almost solitude in your mountain-house and it feels like your mind is lighter. Of course, Jun kept you company when you had to eat or just talk about work or…nothing at all. He always enjoyed just sitting in silence with you, your personalities similar.

Rua: I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Jun: All of the sudden?

He burst out laughing at your sudden remark, after almost one hour of silence while you were both reading.

Rua: You’re my rock.

Jun: And you’re mine. Now shut up and let me read!

A couple of years ago Jun confessed his feelings to you. It was unexpected, you always thought what you had was more of a brother-sister relationship, nothing more. It wasn’t easy to get over that hurdle and it still isn’t, but you’re to close and care about each other to let that stop you.

You’ve told him that you don’t feel the same and you don’t think you’ll ever feel the same, because it’s impossible for you to see him in a romantic way, after everything.

It’s hard, you can tell he still feels the same, you can see and feel his stares, the way he looks at you and how he treats you.

Maybe this was a reason for you to never get into a relationship. You wouldn’t want to hurt the most important person in your life.  Thoughts about the future, about getting married, having a family, always were somewhere back on your mind.

These thoughts came when you felt lonely, but thankfully you were too busy to be feeling lonely. Yet, here you are, having a vacation after you almost got killed, looking at Jun and ow he’s peacefully reading his little book. You’re wondering if you should just marry him and be over with.

Thinking about it, you tell to yourself. He’s not a stranger. He’s been in your life forever, you can trust him. He loves you. You’re sure he will treat you like a princess and will always respect you. And you know he would be the best dad.

But. What about love? You always dreamed about a marriage out of love. Yeah, even you, the big mafia boss who’s known to be so scary and dangerous. You are all that, but you have layers. You’re not a carton box, you’re a human with feelings. And you want to feel love.

Jun: Stop staring at me! You have nothing better to do?

Rua: Maybe I don’t.

Jun: Aren’t we cranky today

Rua: It’s just I have a lot on my mind

Jun: Share

But you don’t tell him what you were thinking about, instead you take another road.

Rua: You really think Kim clan would do this? We have issues, yes, but they never tried to hurt me like that.

Jun: I mean, we can’t know for sure. Doesn’t matter your families were close or that you and Mingyu were friends, people change. Also, people are gullible and words travel fast, they love gossip. Who knows what he heard and made him go off the rail.

Rua: I still find it insane how everything changed. It doesn’t feel real sometimes, like an out of body experience.

Jun: I am sure the Min’s got their tail everywhere, every time.

Rua: Oh, I don’t doubt that. But still.

He closes his book and grabs your hand to hold in his, knowing it will help you relax. Talking about what happened to your father always brings you rage and ruins your day, rush decisions might be made, so it’s better to calm you down.

4 years since your dad was killed and you still can’t point a finger towards one person. There were always rumors about it. The Min’s, the Kim’s, an outsider, politicians. Mingyu’s parents were killed one year after your father, with the same outcome. Nobody knows who did it.

After their death, Mingyu started to push you away. Ties were cut between families. He thought your family was involved in the “accident”, started to hate you.

Jun: Jin asked how’s the leg and if you think you’ll be able to start recovery when you get back.

Rua: Yeah, I plan to get back in shape as soon as possible. I can’t be weak, a lot of people are waiting to attack like hyenas.

Jun: That reminds me. You have a meeting with the mayor. It’s important for The Towers.

Rua: Ugh, fucking Wonwoo. What is it this time? Windows too shiny for his glasses? We already got him the papers with authorizations for them.

Jun: I think he just wants to see you and he’s coming up with any stupid little reason. We have all the papers in order, our people have been cleared. We haven’t signed the contract for the energy provider. I’ll have Seokmin hurry the process.

Rua: That’s what I like to hear. Thanks

The Towers was your biggest project so far. It was like your cover for the whole underground business. Plus, constructions were always something that fascinated you, so you became an architect.

The mayor, Jeon Wonwoo, was your pain in the ass. The guy had the hots for you and would bring up any little irregularity in your projects, just to see you. One time you were rehabilitating an old museum and his reason for stopping your project? “I just don’t think the roof on this particular room should be out of glass”

Mind you, the guy has nothing to do with architecture and construction. Like usual, you had to offer him an amount of money in exchange for him to go fuck himself. That’s what you told him exactly. He laughed.

He’s just so infuriating, especially when he’s out at events with his buddy Kim Mingyu. Aren’t they a match made for each other. They just looove the spotlight, they love to brag about what they did for this city and their future plans. You can’t stand them.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Your return home was long overdue. You knew you’ll be swamped in work for the next weeks and on top of that, hours will be lost each week with the leg recovery.

The Towers were almost finished, and your headquarters will move there. Also, your home. So the meeting with Wonwoo would take place there, since the new office is almost done decorating.

Looking out the tall windows over the city, a warm glow from the upcoming sunset covers you. It would feel like a perfect end of your day, but unfortunately it’s not the case. Your secretary lets you know the mayor is here and you tell her to let him in.

Wonwoo: Oh, no need to get up, princess.

Rua: I can’t walk, genius.

Wonwoo: They did some work on you. Glad you didn’t die.

Rua: Sooo funny, as usual. Why are you here?

Wonwoo: Wanted to see how you were feeling. Also, you’ll need to downsize some of the trees. I’ve had complaints from the office buildings next to you that the trees are too tall.

Rua: I will pretend you didn’t just say something so stupid.

Wonwoo: Hey, it’s not me, it’s your little neighbors.

Rua: I really don’t care. Anything else?

Wonwoo: What do you think about dinner? I know a place.

Rua: No, thanks. Now if that’s all, I’ll be going, need to have a check up on my leg.

Wonwoo: On, come on, princess. When are you going to give in?

Rua: Give in? What do you take me for?

Wonwoo: What’s the problem? I am handsome, young, rich. We’d be perfect together.

Rua: You forgot insufferable, pain in the ass, manipulative, insistent. If there’s one thing that triggers me is someone who won’t take no for an answer the first time I say it. And you’re not my type, mister mayor. I’m not into corrupt assholes.

Wonwoo: So mean. You know this will cost you.

Rua: Awesome, love a guy who buys his friendships and relationships and leads his way with blackmail.

He walks next to you and leans to whisper into your ear “I am sure you know all about that, honey”

Rua: Ok, that’s it, I’m off.

He yells after you “Hey, no one else will have you with that attitude! You better start treating me nicer”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You arrive at the hospital, and while you wait on your brother in his office, a knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts.

Rua: Oh, it’s you. Hi

Seungcheol: Hey, glad to see you again and in better shape I see.

Rua: Yeah, feeling much better.

Seungcheol: Jin sent me to keep you company as he finishes his surgery that’s taking longer than planned.

He takes a seat in Jin’s chair, his gaze on you.

Seunghceol: Did he tell you I’ll be helping you with your recovery? It will take a few months, which means you’ll be seeing me a lot.

Rua: Oh, he didn’t say anything. Do you…. think my leg will be like before?

Seungcheol: Awww. That should not worry your pretty head, let me do it.

Oh. Is this guy flirting?

You feel a rush taking over you and you think your cheeks are red, but can’t be sure.

Without saying anything else, he gets up and comes in front of you, as you lay on the consultation bed.

Seungcheol: May I take a look at the leg?

You try to let out words, but nothing comes out, so you just nod.

He’s lifting your dress up to your thighs, revealing most of the left one. Hands grabbing on it gently, lifting it so the knee is bent. It hurts, but you’re lost in his touch, eyes following the movement of his hands.

He’s got pretty and manly hands, you decide. And the way his brows furrow and his mouth pouts it’s cute. He seems to be very concentrated on what he does, and so are you. That’s why you miss his question.

Seungcheol: Rua??

Rua: Oh. What?

Seungcheol: Does it hurt when I do this?

Rua: Yes, but I can take it.

Seungcheol: I think we can start with the recovery already. You can stop by starting tomorrow, I can meet you and take you to the rehabilitation room, we have all the necessary equipment there.

Rua: This is really the last thing I needed for myself. I was so stupid and got reckless, should of known better.

Seungcheol puts a hand on your shoulder and looks you in the eyes, and you can see his gaze becoming warmer.

Seungcheol: Don’t beat yourself about it, it can happen. Now I need to get back to my other patients, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Here, let me put my number into your phone and you can call or text whenever you want.

As he taps his number on your phone, you look at his hands again and admire them. Almost wanting to feel the warmth of them on your skin again.

Fuck! Stop! This is not happening, no! You tell yourself, as you shake your head gently.

It’s been a while since you liked someone and it didn’t end well. You don’t want to repeat whatever that was. You never had a relationship, but it doesn’t mean there were no men in your life. There were a few, you are human and have needs. You were also in love once and it sucked.

Yet, even if you had feelings for someone, you never ended together. It was complicated and you don’t even think he shared your feelings. You had a fight with him about it and you even confessed, but he didn’t want to hear it or talk about it.

That’s how you were left with a broken heart and with a strong desire to not let a man into your life again.

Seungcheol seems to leave you speechless and it never happened with anyone. You need to have Minghao do a deep check on him later.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The next day you start your recovery exercises with Seungcheol and you think he’s flirting nonstop. Little jokes here and there, his eyes lingering more than a few seconds on you, compliments, his hands on you. Of course he had to have his hands on you, to help you stand up or do the routine exercises, but still.

It didn’t feel professional all the way. Some touches felt personal, with a purpose. And the way he calls you pretty…

Normally, you would call out such behavior, but with him, you don’t know why, you allow it.

That same night, you call Minghao for a chat in your apartment. You still haven’t moved to the new one at The Towers. Minghao is silent, like a shadow. His figure slim, his eyes sharp and moves even sharper. He could kill a person with a toothpick if he wanted.

He takes his mask off and sits on the couch, waiting for you to say something.

Rua: What do you have for me?

Minghao: He’s pretty clean. He went to school here in Seoul, born here, has an older brother who’s a math teacher in college. His parents are alive and still together. He was married for 2 years with his high-school girlfriend, found out she cheated and left him for her boss. He started working at this hospital. Just some parking tickets here and there and some fights when he was young and dumb. Want me to put someone on his trace for a while?

Rua: Yeah, why not. Can’t let anything slip, right?

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

 One month later

Your leg is getting much better and you’re walking on your own with the help of a cane. Not very sexy, but that’s where you’re at right now. Your friendship with Seungcheol also developed, you’re much closer now and you are starting to trust him.

It helps that Jin has such high opinions about him too.

What got more complicated is your life, because there’s no moment of the day when you don’t think about him, and frankly it’s driving you crazy. you think about him while falling asleep at night, when you wake up in the morning, when you have files to read, contracts to sign.

You feel like you see his handsome face everywhere you go, even closing your eyes doesn’t help, because he’s there too.

You find yourself staring at Seungcheol today at your appointment. He’s got both hands over your injured leg, massaging it slowly, to help the blood flow. He’s been doing that every single day and it has messed with your head.

Seungcheol: Maybe I should not ask you this, but..

He sighs and takes a long pause before continuing, so your eyes are locked on him.

Rua: What is it?

Seungcheol: Well, I’ve been wondering if you’d maybe want to have dinner with me today. If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I just thought that you need to take your mind off from everything. I even asked your brother if he’s ok with it and if you have a favorite place or food…

Rua: Cheol, stop talking. I’d love to have dinner with you. Pick me up at 7, I’ll have my assistant call you and give you the address.

Seungcheol: R-really?

Rua: Why are you surprised?

Seungcheol: I mean… you’re so out of my league.

Rua: Oh, please stop that. You’re a handsome doctor, all the singles women in town would say yes to you.

The air became lighter around you, he really helps you relax and you want to explore these feelings that have been growing since you two met.

But this was the first mistake toward disaster. You’ve become too relaxed since that night when you got shot. Things were to quiet and normally, you would be suspicious and double the security for a while.

After all your appointments of the day you reach The Towers where you’re fully moved now. Your driver dropped you off in the underground parking lot and drove off to leave the car inside your private garage.

You didn’t take a bodyguard today, didn’t think it was necessary. That was the problem. You didn’t think.

And now, walking slowly with your cane, excited about your dinner with Seungcheol. Having your head in the clouds, your mind was louder than the steps that were closing in on you from behind.

What woke you up from your thoughts was a sharp and very fast sound that went close to your year. It was like a little lighting. One step forward and the wall in front of you was hit by something that got stuck in it.

Now you were fucking awake and aware. In less than a second you dropped to the ground, turned around and lifted your cane, ready to shoot.

A dark figure was running toward you, clearly taken by surprise by your sudden shift of position so he had to think fast. You tried a first shot but he was quick and you missed.

Everything was so quick and you knew that a fight would probably be a better way to escape this alive. A low kick to his legs, to have him lose his balance.

That made him stumble over but got on his feet fast. You stood up too and saw his hand going at his back pockets. Thinking he was going for a gun, you lift your cane again and shoot, this time with success. His stomach started to bleed and he dropped on his knees.

Another shot to his hand and you saw his gun flying.

Rua: Don’t move and I let you live!

You continue your steps, slowly, limping, your eyes locked on his hands, while your hand was firm and unwavering holding the cane, ready to blow his head off if he tried anything. Having Jun design this gun-cane for you was the best idea.

You manage to push the panic button attached to your bracelet and in less than 3 minutes the elevator doors behind the intruder open, with two of your men coming out, guns in hands.

They grab the guy and you give them instructions on what to do with him.

Finally in your apartment, you drop on the couch and the front door opens as Jun enters, with an anxious look on his face.

Rua: You look like someone died.

Jun: Not funny. Are you ok? Are you hurt?

Rua: Not even a scratch. And I would really appreciate if we leave this conversation for tomorrow. Today it’s not the day.

Jun: Ok, but we’re doubling the security and I don’t want you alone like this when you’re out of your apartment. You’ll have two guys outside your door at all hours of the day.

Rua: Thanks. I need the car ready for 7pm.

Jun: You don’t have anything in your schedule.

Rua: I have now.

Jun: Can I know what it is?

Rua: Meeting with my doctor.

Jun: Are you- are you having a date with the Choi guy?

Rua: Yes.

He didn’t say anything else, he just lowered his gaze to the floor and turned on his heel and left your apartment.  There was no good way for him to find out, he would be upset about it anyway.

Jun felt his feet becoming heavier with each step he took toward his office. He knew this would happen someday, but now that it was here, he thought he was not ready for it.

His heart was hurting, his head felt heavy, his ears ringing. Reaching the office, he called Minghao over.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

When his friend arrived, he found Jun standing in front of the tall windows, with a glass in his hand, the other in his pants pocket.

Minghao: What’s up, buddy? You look like shit.

Jun: Just needed company.

Minghao: Is boss ok?

Jun: She’s great. She has a date with Choi today.

Minghao: No fucking way! Shit, I’m sorry

He comes close to Jun and puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to console him. Minghao knows about Jun’s feeling for you and he always made sure to be real with him and make him see that you two could never happen.

Jun: It’s just fucking hurts and there is nothing I can do. I will just feel like this and nothing can make me feel better.

Minghao: Do we trust the guy? I am still worried that he’s hiding something.

Jun: You’re just trying to make me feel better, stop! He’s the perfect guy

Minghao: Come on, dude! Like you’re less than him. You ae the best guy I know

Jun: But I’m not enough, and he is

Minghao: You really need to get over her. She knows you’re great, but it doesn’t mean that you’d be good together. Maybe for you, she’s the ideal woman, but she doesn’t see you like that. And it’s ok, we can’t have everything we want in life. But you really need to move on with your life and give yourself a chance to a new love. You deserve to be happy and she deserves to love whoever she wants freely, without worrying that it’s hurting you.

Listening to his friend’s words, Jun knows he’s right, but words are easy. Feelings are hard to control. He drowns the whole whisky and makes a call to prepare the car and a team to escort you out on your date. The night will probably be a long one for him and he’ll be hangover tomorrow, because he plans to drink the whole bottle.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

It’s almost 7 pm and you’re standing in front of your mirror, trying to make all the bad thoughts go away. You opted for a simple black bodycon dress that ends a little over your knees. It has long sleeves and it’s off shoulder. An elegant black blazer will keep you warm for the night and even if you’re still limping, you’re wearing a pair of high heels. Lots of gold bracelets that give off a pleasant asmr to your ears when you move your arms and your hair is high up in a ponytail.

Minghao calls you to let you know that Seungcheol is downstairs.

Rua: Bring him up and let yourself inside.

Minghao: Sure, boss.

Rua: Is…. Jun ok? I thought you were free for the day.

Minghao: He was just very tired and went to bed.

Of course you didn’t believe that, but you didn’t say anything more. In a few minutes you hear the knock on the door and Minghao opens the door to let your date walk inside the apartment.

You call from your living room and he starts to walk toward your voice. He finds you sitting on your couch, sipping from a glass. His gaze goes straight to your legs and how your dress was going up, revealing your thighs.

The champagne made you relax, your head resting back on the couch, eyes closed. It was such a full and stressful day and you can’t wait to end. It started from 8 am, when Jun came rushing into your office to give you some bad news about one of your ships that was supposed to get there today, but a mysterious fire engulfed a whole room and destroyed 4 expensive cars.

Then, while you were doing your recovery exercises with Seungcheol, you were so close to crying from frustration. It became really hard for you to stay back when important stuff came up at work. You were always hands on, and now you felt useless because of this fucking leg injury.

Doctors are saying you will recover completely, since the bullet didn’t do much damage. But even so, just one day of not being able to walk, run, fight, and you feel like a loser.

Then, as you were eating your lunch, you decided that the food tasted bad and you threw it away. And let’s not forget the guy that tried to kill you in the parking lot. It was just too much for a single day.

Seungcheol watches you as he takes his final steps before stopping a few meters away. Your free hand moves graciously and pats the place next to you on the couch.

And he moves again, sitting close to you. His eyes are still on you, admiring your beauty.

Rua: Want a drink before we go?

Seungcheol: No, thanks, I’m driving.

Rua: My driver will drive us today.

Seungcheol: There’s no need, really.

Rua: Stuff happened and it’s for our safety.

Seungcheol: What happened? Are you ok?

Rua: I’d rather not talk about it for now. Just let me finish this glass and we’re leaving.

A moment of silence came over the both of you. You could only hear your breaths and you swallowing the champagne. It felt good to just sit there and not talk.

Seungcheol: Can I ask you something?

Rua: Sure.

Seungcheol: Are you like… some sort of a big shot? I mean. This apartment, the people working for you are so intimidating, your have a driver and bodyguards. And don’t get me started on those jewelry you always wear, they must cost a fortune.

That made you smile and you opened your eyes and lifted your head to look at him.

Rua: I might be. Does that scare you?

Seungcheol: N-no, but I feel like you’re surrounded by tough guys and danger. Maybe I am a little intimidated, that’s all.

Rua: I will tell you this. My life indeed is not easy and there are people that would want me dead, yes. Sometimes things get so difficult that I need to make impossible decisions. Sometimes I just disappear for days or even weeks because it gets too hard. There are things that I will never tell you about and situations that I would want to keep away. I’ve never had a relationship, because of my work and my people. I just wanted to commit to them only. But I feel like I’d like to experience that now. I am not looking for fuckboys, one night stands, games or sex without feelings, you name it.

He's just looking at you with big eyes. Then you lean over a little and whisper into his ear.

Rua: This is the part where I’m giving you a choice. You can walk away right now and I won’t even be mad about it.

He just turns his face to look into your eyes again, your noses barely touching.

Seungcheol: Looks like we’re looking for the same thing.

You feel the tension between you two, eyes starring into each other, breaths heavy and lips slightly opened. But a kiss is not on your list for now, it’s too early, he’s still a stranger.

So you move away and put your empty glass on your coffee table.

Rua: Then let’s go, I’m starving. Help me get up?

As you’re heading to the door he showers you in compliments and offers his arm for you to hold and you do so. Outside, two men are guarding your door and one joins you into the elevator, all the way to your car, where your driver and Seokmin awaits.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The car ride to the restaurant is pretty quiet and comfortable. You ask about his choice for medical school and he asks about your family. It seems that he’s avoiding to question you more about your job and lifestyle and you’re glad.

As you arrive at the venue, you realize that it’s one of your favorite restaurants. He picked it, probably asked Seokjin for some inspiration. You walk slowly, cane in your right hand and Seungcheol right next to your left, your arm in his.

You feel good, confident and sexy, and your fancy metallic cane gives you a dangerous aura.

Restaurant hostess: Oh, miss Lee, wasn’t expecting you tonight, so happy to see you. Let me take you to your favorite table.

Seungcheol: Oh, I didn’t know you’re such a popular figure.

Rua: Wouldn’t say I am, but I do enjoy the good restaurants and museums. You’d barely see me anywhere else where it’s crowded.

Seungcheol: Noted.

He gives you a big smile and helps you sit on your chair.

Restaurant hostess: I’ll leave you 5 minutes to decide on what you want to eat and drink. Enjoy your evening!

Both of you take a look at the menu, but you already know what you’re having. You give a few suggestions to Seungcheol and he seems eager to try everything you’ve recommended.

Seungcheol: You can take the lead on here, I will trust whatever you chose.

Rua: Ok, then. Leave it on me

You hear a voice calling your name and you turn around.

“Oh my dear Rua, I’m so ecstatic seeing you here”

Rua: Chef Collin, it’s been a while. Sorry I won’t get up, I had a tiny accident

Chef: Oh no, what happened? Are you ok now?

Rua: An injury to my leg but I am recovering quickly.

Chef: Good, good. When I heard you’re here I just needed to come greet you. I am glad you’re ok. And who is this gentleman?

Rua: He’s my date, Choi Seungcheol, who’s also my doctor.

Seungcheol: Nice meeting you, heard so many good things about you and your restaurant!

He gets up to bow to the chef and keeps standing.

Chef: What will you two have tonight?

You start saying words that Seungcheol didn’t really understand. It felt like you were saying a poem and he looked at you with admiration.

Rua: And of course, the specialty for the night and my favorite champagne and water. Would you like something else to drink, Cheol?

Sengcheol: N-no, champagne s-sounds perfect. Thank you!

Cheff: Ok then, I’ll leave you two love birds and hope you’ll enjoy your evening and meal. Talk soon, Rua!

A slight blush creeps up your cheeks and you blame it on the alcohol. Seungcheol smiles and sits back in his chair.

Seungcheol: I like the nickname.

Rua: It just slipped out.

Seungcheol: I’ll need to find one for you too, little miss popular.

Rua: Oh, come on, people barely know me.

Seungcheol: So what do you do? I have no idea what you do as work, all I know is that you’re crazy rich and busy.

Rua: I have more businesses, but the main one is construction. The building where I live is mine, it was finished recently and I also moves my offices there and all my companies.

Seungcheol: That’s impressive. I knew about the building, it’s the most expensive in the whole country but I had no idea who owns it. How did you get into construction?

Rua: It was a family business. Since I was a teenager, my dad would bring me with him everywhere when it came to the company, and he teached me how things work. I got to love it, and being an artistic soul, it came easy to me. After he died, I became the owner of everything.

Seungcheol: And I guess you have many enemies, being this rich and on top of that a woman. Especially old men.

Rua: True. I mean, the world is corrupt and the wealthier you are, the more dangerous your life becomes. People so be trying to unalive you.

Seungcheol: Is that what happened that night you got shot?

Rua: True. So that’s why I need dangerous men working for me, because I need protection.

Seungcheol: I don’t know much about this world, my life has been pretty normal and boring and I don’t have rich friends. I think you might be the richest person I’ve ever talked to. How come your brother is a doctor? I’m confused.

Rua: He never liked the life my family wanted to offer him. His passion was being a doctor, helping people, not sitting at a desk at a big company. But the public doesn’t know we are siblings. He left when he was very young, changed his name and papers and moved back recently. He didn’t want to leave me here alone, although I have some very close friends that are like family.

Seungcheol: I don’t know what to say, your life sounds fascinating and seems that you’ve been trough some hard times.

He puts his hands over yours that were sitting on the table together. His touch very gentle, and looks at you with warm eyes.

Seungcheol: I’d like to think that you at least consider me a friend. Know that I am here for you with whatever you need.

Rua: Thank you, it means a lot. But you have to know that you’ll need to be very patient. I don’t open easily to people.

As you were talking and having an intimate emotional moment, a loud laugh is heard somewhere in the restaurant. It sounds so familiar that it sends a shiver down your spine and you feel a hole in your chest.

You haven’t heard that laugh in years and now would be the worst moment to hear it.

Your eyes scan the room and a few tables behind Seungcheol, right in your line of vision, you notice the stupid face of Jeon Wonwoo. He’s facing you. And in front of him it’s him. You could recognize him from 1 million. Big frame, wide shoulders, loud.

Seungcheol is saying something but you don’t understand anything. Your eyes move from him to Wonwoo’s table and back. Barely waking up from your thoughts, thanks to his hands squeezing yours, you apologize.

Rua: Sorry, I just… I think I saw someone I haven’t seen in years and can’t say I am happy about it.

Seungcheol: Oh! Are you ok? What can I do?

Rua: I’m ok, don’t worry. Just need a glass and I’ll relax.

And as you said that, your champagne was making it’s way to your table, the hostess bringing it with a smile on her face.

Unfortunately, Wonwoo’s eyes were doing what men eyes do. Looking at the hostess’s ass as she walked towards you. And his eyes followed her until she stopped and placed the bottle on your table to get it ready to open it.

That’s when he saw you. He smirked and his face light up.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Mingyu

Mingyu: Hmm, I don’t know what I’m in the mood for tonight, but I know I am fucking hungry. What are you getting?

But Wonwoo didn’t respond, he was busy with something and he had a stupid grin on his face, his eyes squinted.

Mingyu: What the fuck are you doing?

Wonwoo: Magnificent! Just perfect!

Mingyu: What? What?

Wonwoo: My future wife is on  a little date. Aww, how cute. They are holding hands.

Mingyu turns around to see what his friend is starring at and when he saw you, his smile dropped. He turned back immediately.

Mingyu: Why the hell didn’t you say it was her? I wouldn’t have turned like a desperate teenager to look at her. You ruined my night, thanks, dummy.

Wonwoo: Oh, please. Wait here, I need to say hi to her.

Mingyu: Come on, drop it. Don’t make a scene, you already ruined my mood.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

But Wonwoo doesn’t listen. He gets up and slowly walks over to your table. As you were taking your first sip of champagne, many things happened at the same time. Wonwoo’s “Good evening”, you spitting your drinking and choking, your leg flying up into Seungcheol’s knee, hitting him with your pointed shoe and Mingyu getting up and bumping into a waiter that was carrying a big tray with plates and food. The tray dropped, a loud noise of plates shattering on the floor was heard trough the whole restaurant, Mingyu not stopping or looking back.

Wonwoo: Oh, sorry, didn’t want to scare you.

Rua: Mister Mayor, a pleasure to see you, as always.

Wonwoo: I was just having dinner with Mingyu and thought to be a good citizen and say hello to my favorite business woman. Aren’t you going to introduce me?

Rua: No, you can leave now.

Wonwoo: Oh, always rude…

He didn’t get to finish what he had to say, because Seokmin and other two of your men came behind him, asking him not to cause a scene and step back from you.

Seokmin: Mister Mayor, please drop it and give miss Lee some privacy. People are looking and you know the owner is our friend.

Wonwoo dropped the smirk and the act and he gave a “have a good evening” and left, trying to straighten his suit.

Seokmin: Do you need anything, boss?

Rua: Just keep that idiot away from me.

Seungcheol looked at you in shock, because you treated the actual mayor like that. The rich powerful mayor.

Seungcheol: That was unexpected.

Rua: Sorry about that, he’s just insufferable and can’t be bothered tonight.

Seungcheol: I think we’ll need more than one bottle.

The evening went smooth after that. Food was delicious, you felt so full and satisfied. Your cheeks were burning and probably pink by now, but you felt good and free. Maybe your partner for the night had a little big to do about it too.

You were the last two client there and it was almost 10 pm.

Rua: I have no idea when the hours passed.

Seungcheol: It happens when you’re in the right company.

Rua: Cheol, you’re such a flirt. Why do you flirt so much?

Seungcheol: I guess I just like you, so it comes naturally.

You covered your face with your hands and giggled.

Rua: Stoooop!

Seungcheol: I think we should probably go, it’s getting late and I need to bring you back home at a decent hour, or else your guy will kick my ass.

Rua: Who’s my guy?

Seungcheol: I don’t remember his name. The blonde guy. I met him downstairs when I got to your building. I felt like a little kid being scolded.

Oh.

Jun probably made sure to let Seungcheol know that you have people holding your back and to just… scare him.

You signal him to move his face closer to yours so you can whisper something.

Rua: I have to tell you something.

Seungcheol: What is it?

Rua: I’m drunk. How am I going to walk? I can’t even stand up.

He then gets up, takes your purse and puts it around his shoulder, then leans down in front of you and lifts you up bridal style.

Rua: Whoaaa!! Cheoool!

Seungcheol: Someone as pretty as you should never need to walk. You should get carried all the time, like a princess.

Rua: But we didn’t pay.

Seungcheol: Yes we did.

Rua: When?

Seungcheol: It’s my secret.

The staff bows and wishes you a good night.  You wave and then hide your face into Seungcheol’s shoulder, feeling shy that they’ve seen you in this state.

Once you’ve reached your car, the driver opens the door, leaving space for your date to place you slowly on the back seat, followed by him sitting right next to you.

Rua: Sorry for being drunk, but I needed it.

Seungcheol: Nothing to be sorry about.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

As the car was on the move, your eyelids felt heavier and heavier. In what felt like seconds, you’re woken up by Seungcheol, gently patting your hand. As your eyes open, the hand he’s been touching rests right on his thigh and you pull it back right away, feeling embarrassed.

Seunghceol: Come on, we’re here. I’ll carry you to your apartment.

He gets out of the car and as he’s leaning over to lift you, you hear someone say something from behind him.

Jun: I got her from here, the driver will drop you off to your address and I’ll have someone drive your car there too.

Seungcheol: There’s no need, I want to help her.

Jun: I won’t repeat myself

Jun looks mad, really mad. His eyes burn into Seungcheol’s face, looking almost threatening, so the older man think for a second and decided that it’s not the time or place to be stubborn and he gives up.

As Jun lifts you in his arms, you say bye to Seungcheol, telling him you’ll talk tomorrow.

On the way to his place, he feels conflicted. You seem pretty close to this guy that works for you. Is he only working for you, or is there more? He needs to know, either way.

Minghao is watching the scene before him. It looks out of a fairytale. A tall handsome prince, carrying his beautiful princess that’s in distress and needs him. And he shakes his head to Jun, wondering if any of his words earlier today were registered. Because this right now looks far from “you need to distance yourself from her and move on”.

But then again what does he know, he’s never been in love. So he just offers a soft smile to his friend and follows them to the elevator.

Jun: I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not that. Just doing my job.

Minghao: I didn’t say anything, and you know better what is best for you, so..

Rua: You guys are being loud and I am trying to sleep here

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Mingyu

After leaving the restaurant, Mingyu went straight home. He needed to blow off some steam after seeing you. He gets inside his house, heading right into his personal gym and starts hitting the punching bag. He hits it so hard that his fists start to bleed, but that doesn’t make him stop. The image of your face that’s so fresh in his mind drives him nuts, punching the bag harder, until he screams loudly and stops.

Wonwoo: What the fuck is wrong with your ass?

Mingyu: Shut up, told you not to go and stir shit up.

Wonwoo: Oh, come on, you know me. Her gorillas kicked me out though.

Mingyu: Are you into humiliation or something? You always either get pushed away from her vicinity and she’s slapping you.

Wonwoo: Nah, that’s you. I just enjoy annoying her.

Mingyu: Why? What are you getting out of this? You sound like a child.

Wonwoo: What’s the matter, buddy? You jealous?

Mingyu scuffs at his friend’s words and he goes to treat his bleeding fists.

Wonwoo: You crazy bastard. What did you do to yourself!

Mingyu: Nothing. Can you leave? I want to be alone.

Wonwoo: I’ll go. Don’t forget about the meeting tomorrow with Yoongi.

Mingyu doesn’t have a great night, he can barely sleep, thought of you going trough his head. How you’ve used to be so close, how your voice sounded, how you both used to sneak out your houses to meet at midnight and go out partying together.

He’s still attending parties, and since you lost contact, he’s never seen you out. Not even at important event, not to mentions clubs. Maybe he keeps on going out hoping you might be there too.

“Fuuuck! What’s wrong with me? She’s a lying bitch and she ruined my life. Why do I still think about her?”

Next day, the three men have a private meeting in the Min territory. Dozens of armed men are guarding the surroundings.

Yoongi: Did you take care of the ship?

Mingyu: Yeah, but the damages were not as big as we expected and hoped for. Seems that there were too many guards and our guy couldn’t set fire to more than one room.

Yoongi: Too bad, she would have lost a lot more money.

Wonwoo: Now, if we’re going to calculate how much would she have lost if all the cars were damaged, it’s not a lot, considering she got them for so little.

Yoongi: You’re probably right, but still. It’s pissing her off.

Mingyu: And also, making her strike back.

Yoongi: How, if she doesn’t know who did it? She thinks I’m on her side. By the way, I sent a guy for her last night. I am waiting for word from him.

Wonwoo: You sent the guy to do what and at what time? Because she was alive and well last night, having a date.

Yoongi: Really? The guy confirmed her arrival at The Towers around 5pm, so about that time.

Wonwoo: Nah, we saw her after 7-8. Your guy is probably dead.

Yoongi: Out of the question, he’s one of the best. And she’s fucking limping.

Mingyu: You forget she’s trained and could probably kick your ass any day.

Yoongi: Who’s side are you on?

Mingyu: Just letting you know what she’s capable of.

Yoongi: I think you forget you came to me for help, to bring her down and take everything from her.

Mingyu: Yeah, but not kill her.

Yoongi: And she is not dead. I don’t plan on doing that, relax. Remember how she butchered your men at the warehouse that night? How she blew up the place? She’s not going to fail to pull the trigger if you’re in her sight. Keep that in mind.

Wonwoo: Ok, ok. Thing is that we need to work from more sides. Kick her where it hurts more. Her business and her people.

Yoongi: You said she was on a date? Cand you find out who the guy is?

Wonwoo: Can I find out who the guy is..haha. I’ll have his name on my desk in minutes.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

2 weeks later

Wonwoo did not have in fact his name on his desk in hours. Not even days. It made him think the guy was a ghost or something. He tried everything to find something about your date. So he asks Mingyu’s help.

Getting off the call with Wonwoo, Mingyu calls for Jeonghan and Joshua into his office. The two men appear after 40 minutes, both wearing black elegant suits.

Mingyu: Oh, Josh, you cut your hair.

Joshua: Yeah, girls like it like this.

Jeonghan: Pfff, you’re saying it like you’re getting girls. Everywhere you go, there’s Jenny all over you, cockblocking you.

Mingyu: You still seeing Jenny?

Joshua: It’s nothing serious, we’re just fooling around. Can we talk about why you wanted to see us?

Mingyu: I need to find a guy.

Jeonghan: Ok, you have a photo?

Mingyu: That’s the thing, I don’t.

Jeonghan: What do you have on him that we can use?

Mingyu: Basically, nothing. You think you could get the security cam footage from last night from The Wine Story? Even any other cam footage from the area.

Joshua: We’ll see what we can do and let you know.

Mingyu: Great, I really need this info.

Joshua: You going to the hotel’s inauguration tonight, right?

Mingyu: Yeah, of course.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Earlier today

Seungcheol: So don’t go if you don’t want to.

Rua: Yeah, but I am the main architect of the project and the owner was friends with my parents. I have to go.

Seungcheol: Awww, I’m sorry I can’t do anything to make it better. I have to be at the hospital the whole night.

Rua: I know. Don’t work yourself too hard.

Seungcheol: I’ll try, but it doesn’t depend on me.

Rua: I need to go now, but keep in touch.

Seungcheol: Have fun!

Later that day you were laying in your bed after a nap, your blanket over your head. Hearing Jun enter your apartment, you know he’s coming to wake you up and have you get ready for the event you’re going to attend tonight.

Jun: Come on, let’s get you up!

Rua: 10 more minutes, mom.

Jun: Don’t be a jerk, the people from hair and makeup are waiting for you.

Rua: But I want to shower first.

Jun: Come on, make it quick!

You whine and he gets his hands under your blanket, searching for your feet. Grabbing them, he starts to pull, making you sit up, giggling.

Rua: I could be naked, you pervert!

Jun: That would make it even funnier.

Rua: My naked body is funny to you?

Jun: I haven’t seen you naked, so I wouldn’t know.

Rua: Because it’s so much difference between me in a swimsuit and me naked.

Jun: Well you could have like… boobs that go in different directions, one up, one down. I don’t know.

Rua: Yeah, and I keep them in check with bras. You’re right. I have wild boobs.

Jun: Yeah, that’s why you don’t have a boyfriend.

Rua: Yet.

Jun: Oh?

Rua: Now get out if you don’t wanna get blinded by my wild boobs, I need to go take that shower.

This type of bickering was always the norm between you two since you were kids. If you were not having these little arguments, then something was wrong. Really. If you and your best friend are not teasing each other like this, then are you even best friends?

As you were sitting in front of the mirror, having your makeup and hair artists working on you, your assistant walks in the room lifting up two dresses.

Assistant: You need to pick one.

Rua: I like both, but I’ll have to try them on so I can decide.

You’ve tried both and you preferred the white short one that has a slight sparkle to it and a cute bow in the front of your chest, off shoulder. The hair will probably be styled pretty natural, straightened. Maybe a diamond hair piece on the side to keep the hair off your face.

These last few days have been less gloomy than the last months, because you’re finally walking by yourself, almost no limping. Even the exercises at the gym became close to what you normally did.

It’s been 2 weeks since that first date with Seungcheol and things have been great. You had a couple more dates that went well, a movie date, a ride around the city with a stop at a fast-food place and an unplanned dinner at your office.

Not sure you’d have brought him to this event tonight with you if he was not busy at the hospital, though. Maybe it was too soon for this. Bringing him into your circles was not something easy.

After a few texts exchanges with Seungcheol, it’s time to leave. Jun will accompany you, like usual, and he’s looking very elegant, like a prince.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Arriving at the hotel, you feel proud when you look up and admire its beauty, knowing that this came out of your mind and hands. Your parents would be proud too to see how far you’ve come as an architect. You wish they were here.

There’s a lot of people outside too. The entrance is huge, with tall and wide glass doors and a few steps to reach it. Several staff people are waiting to greet the guests and to help them with any information they might need.

They were trained to recognize the important people that are coming tonight and they sure know who you are, as one of them comes to offer his services and lead you inside.

Jun takes the lead and tells the young man you don’t need any help and you both excuse yourselves and head to the entrance.

Jun: Love the futuristic approach of the building combined with little antique details. It’s very you.

Rua: The owners gave me total freedom with the project so I gave them exactly that.

The interior gives the same futuristic vibe, but the party adds more complexity to it. Everyone is wearing extravagant outfits and you feel a little underdressed. The entry room is large, tall, with white and green accents coming down from the ceiling that fill out the place.

The main attraction is the fountain in the middle for which you hired sculptures to make a spectacular scene that reminds you of the greek gods and goddesses.  Gold and rare stones were used for the statues and guests seem to love it, everyone taking pictures and selfies in front of it.

Jun: Drinks or meeting the owners first?

Rua: Drinks, wtf.

He grabs your hand and leads you to the nearest bar where you order some fancy cocktails. Memories come flashing back from when you used to go out with your former friend Mingyu. It’s like nothing changed but at the same time nothing is the same anymore.

Different people, different context, different feelings. It’s like he’s still there, just in a haunting type of way. While sipping from that delicious pineapple-something drink, someone bumps into your shoulder.

Jungkook: Oh, excuse me, miss Lee.

Rua: Jungkook, it’s fine.

Jungkook: It must be the end of the world if you’re out at a party.

Rua: I used to party when you were still having pimples and braces. It’s boring now

Jungkook: Are you saying you’re old?

Rua: Maybe I am

Jungkook: You look great, anyway. Catch you later, maybe show you some moves.

Rua: Yeah yeah

You barely noticed the girl that was holding his hand, behind him. And he completely ignored her, he just flirted with her right there, with no shame. But that’s how he is. He might be one of the hottest and wanted single men in the country, but he’s also a huge red flag.

His date gives you a nasty look and starts to scold him from the way her arms are moving, but it’s not your problem. You laugh and drag Jun away from the crowd, looking for a more private spot.

Rua: Should we do a tour of the party?

Jun: Don’t mind if I do. Are you not afraid of who we might run into?

Rua: No, and don’t care. I am one of the guests of honor.

Jun: Oh, miss important who’s not afraid of anything.

So you started walking slowly, hand in hand, sipping from your expensive glasses and exchanging knowing looks when you saw something crazy. Some outfits were just plain ridiculous and it made both of you burst into laughter, almost to tears.

Jun: Oh, I think I spotted the owner that’s your dad’s friend and he’s coming over.

Mr. Kang: Dear Rua, welcome! When did you get here and why nobody told me?

Rua: Good evening, Mr. Kang. About half hour or so. I have to say, this is a great party and I love what you’ve done with the place.

Mr. Kang: Thank you, but it’s also your merit. So long since I last seen you two. How is your family, Jun?

Jun: They are fine, still living in China.

Mr. Kang: We should meet some day and catch up, now I need to entertain all my guests. You two have fun and if you need anything, just ask the staff or me.

The music was nice, went well with the mood of the place. But the glass was empty and you were not in the search of a refill. As you were walking and enjoying a nice conversation with your friend, your eyes fly over to a corner where a big round sofa was sitting under a glass ceiling.

Among the groups of people sitting there you spot Joshua, one of Mingyu’s men. He’s talking to some guys that you don’t recognize. Well if he’s here, then his boss must be too.

And while looking into Joshua’s direction, Jun says you’ve reached the bar so he’ll order some drinks so you stay put and wait for him. Trying to not look suspicious, starring too much into the same direction, you turn toward the bar and try to take a step.

But it felt like you hit a wall. A softer wall, indeed, but still. Looking up, you see two familiar brown eyes starring into yours. Horror came over you and you couldn’t move or say anything.

The moment maybe lasted 3 seconds but it felt like minutes. And while seconds were passing, his face kept contorting more, changing from surprise, to shock, to horror, to disgust, to anger.

Mingyu thought if he should say something. Anything that could bother you, but suddenly he sees your lips move. That’s a view he hasn’t seen in years and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. Your full, luscious, glossy lips that used to kiss his cheeks so often.

Rua: Well surely this is not my lucky month.

And you pushed past him to get to Jun. that was supposed to get him angry, but not. He smirked and continued his way to Joshua.

Rua: I just bumped into Mingyu.

Jun: Shut uuupp! Did he say anything?

Rua: No, he was just starring like a psycho. Not even a word.

Jun: So he’s not a yapper anymore?

Rua: Maybe he changed, what do I know. Not like I ever really known him.

Jun: Come on, you were besties, you did everything together.

Rua: He’s just a good actor and he fooled me back then. And now he’s my enemy. That reminds me- is everything set for tonight?

Jun: Yeah, I have word from Hao and Seokmin. They’ll manage without us.

Rua: Revenge will taste sweet. Can’t just stand back and let them step on me. And being here will be a good alibi. Mingyu knows I never just stay at home and give orders so others do the work.

Jun: Then it’s a good thing that he saw you. Now let’s go to the dj room and dance a little.

Heading to the main party room, the vibe is completely different. The hallways leading there has windows left and right, with massive basalt sculptures and red lights.

Techno music gets louder and louder as you step closer to the crowd. Now, since you came here, might as well take advantage and actually have fun like old times. Your mind goes to Mingyu for a second, but you shake your head quickly.

Jun: I see Jungkook.

Run: Let’s go there.

Weaving your way trough the dancing crowd, you reach Jungkook and he comes to give you a hug. You see the same girl from earlier, who’s left behind him, then you notice Taehyung too and give him a little wave.

Jungkook: I’m soo happy you came.

Run: Well don’t you seem like you’re having the best time.

Jungkook: I’m probably ahead of you with many shots. Come, drink with me.

As he takes your hand to take you to the bar, Jun grabs his arm.

Jungkook: We’re just going to get shots for everyone, relax. I’m not stealing her from you.

Rua: It’s fine, Jun. Stay here, we’ll be back in 5.

Reaching the bar, it seems like everyone there knows Jungkook, everyone waving, saying hi or smirking at him. He first orders a few shots only for the two of you.

Rua: Mmmm sweet, I like.

Jungkook: Sweet like you.

As he’s saying that, his pinching your cheek and scrunches his nose at you.

Rua: Are you flirting again?

Jungkook: Yes. Is it working?

Rua: No. and besides, I am seeing someone.

He chokes on his drink and he looks at you with his big eyes.

Jungkook: Who dared to take my girl away?

Rua: I was never your girl.

Jungkook: Yeah, what’s up with that? Why did we never hook up? We’re both young, hot, successful.

Rua: Probably because years our families were rivals aaand, probably because you fuck anything that breathes.

He whines and pouts and it looks funny coming from him, a big dangerous looking manly man.

Jungkook: I think that we would look so hot together in bed.

Rua: I know we would, but I am not into what you’re offering.

Jungkook: Maybe I’d be a good boy for you and settle down.

Rua: Riiight.

You both start to laugh and he gives you another hug.

Jungkook: I really missed having fun with you at parties. Maybe we’ll do this again.

Rua: Doubt it.

Jungkook: Let’s take these shots to the rest.

Rua: Your girlfriend hates me already.

Jungkook: Oh please, she’s not my anything. She’s just some girl from our circle of friends that thinks she can trick me into a relationship. I haven’t even fucked her, can you believe that?

Rua: Nooo.

And as suspected, the girl kept her eyes on you, giving you nasty looks. She kept on trying to be close to Jungkook but he kept on moving around to escape her.

Having already few shots and 2 drinks on board, your feet started moving and in no time you were dancing. You were thankful Jun was a good dancer, and alcohol seems to make him friendly and sociable too. He’s made friends into Jungkook’s group so fast.

You thought you should check on Seungcheol, you promised to keep in touch throughout the night, so you grab your phone from the bag and open the chat with him.

Jungkook: Aw, is that your little bf?

Rua: Hey, mind your business.

Jungkook had his arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to his body and trying to make him look away from your phone, you started to tickle him. Giggles and laughter could be heard around your group from the two of you. Jun was glad to see you have fun for a change.

Jungkook: Ya, don’t tickle me over my abs, it’s a sensitive spot.

Rua: Omg, stop being such a horndog.

This was a normal interaction between you and him, he was always flirty and you always rejected him. That was the routine. Would he really go all the way if you let him? You didn’t know. It was not like he was messing with a regular girl. He wouldn’t risk pissing you off. Doesn’t matter he comes from a family of gangsters, you were dangerous too.

As the little scene between you two was unfolding, Jungkook’s female friend that was all over him the whole night decided in her drunken mind that she had enough. Her blood was boiling, crazy eyes on display, hand armed with a full glass of some colored alcohol to match perfectly with your white dress.

Everything seems to happen in slow motion. People moving to the rhythm of the music, or just moving around. You and Jungkook being silly with each other as his arm was still around your shoulder. The girl pacing carefully on drunken feet, trying to steady herself and not drop the glass before she gets to you.

A group of men walking into the room, heading toward you unknowingly, just following the music. Taehyung’s eyes noticing the anger on the girl’s face, that was now getting closer to you. Jun’s eyes that are starting to move between you and the girl, his brain going into work.

You were completely unaware of what was coming, but it’s not like you were not used to it by now. Cold liquid went flying, going on both yours and Jungkook’s clothes. Jun’s foot going in front of the girl to make her lose her balance, while Taehyung was laughing, holding Jun back, because he wanted to see the show.

Your eyes went from Jungkook to the new familiar faces that were walking into your direction. Just for a split moment. Just for that quarter of a second, your eyes caught Mingyu’s and Joshua’s faces, both starring at you.

Then your gaze continued to move onto the culprit. Jun’s foot made her lose her composure an helped with the drink not reaching your face and she stumbled a little. But that was her bad luck. If she was not this close she would have been safe.

Someone would keep you from smashing her face. And now, everyone’s focus was on your fist starting to travel toward her stupid face. “What a face to be punched” you thought, seeing her this close.

Right into her jaw. Her ass falling right onto the table behind her, where there were some food left from earlier when you all got hungry.

Yup, this was something that you used to do often, going out, years ago. Your punches always had stability, even when drunk. They always went straight to the target. And hard. Jungkook and Taehyung were laughing their asses off, while Jun was shaking his head, wondering what was in that girl’s head for trying something like this.

You? You were mad. Who does she think she is? Seeing the state your expensive dress is, you grab the girl and drag her outside of the room, to the hallway. She’s screaming at you, calling you a bitch and that she’ll show you.

Reaching the hallway, you throw her like a ragdoll and tell Jun to call security to get her out.

Rua: I am not moving until I see someone take her stupid ass in the street.

“You fucking bitch, do you know who my dad is? You’re fucked!” She screams from the floor.

Jungkook: Rua, calm, relax. I’ll take care of her.

Then he lifts her up by her arm and drags her out, with her still yelling.

You’re still angry and you need to calm down, but being also tipsy makes it hard.

Rua: I need to get some air.

Jun: No, we need to stay inside where Mingyu can see us. The plan is in action as of 30 minutes ago. Just wait a little bit longer.

Rua: Ugh, I need to get out of this dress and take a long shower. I’m over this party. I should of beaten that little shit up more.

Jun: No, that would have brought too much attention to us. It’s your first time going out in years and this happens. It might be all over the media tomorrow. I will talk to Mr. Kang later also.

Rua: And find out who she is and fix that too.

Jun: What do you want me to do?

Rua: I want apologies. Face to face. Or publicly if this goes out.

As you’re leaning to the wall, talking to Jun, your eyes are pulled like magnets to Mingyu that walks by, followed by his pose. His phone close to his ear, tells you that he’s been notified about something important. Maybe that something that was your doing.

You both lock eyes for a few seconds. He looks angry, but there is something else there. You’d love to slap that expression off his face anytime. That stupid handsome face.

Rua: Ok, now we can go get some air and sit somewhere. Mingyu just left in a hurry and not happy.

Jun: Our guys must be done by now then.

Finding a terrace somewhere on the upper floors, you lay on a chair and wait for Jun to get the news from tonight’s operation.

Jun: Hao says it’s safer for us to meet at The Towers.

Rua: Ok, gather everyone there in one hour.

15 minutes later you two left, saying goodbye to Mr. Kang and the rest of your acquaintances. An extra car joined to escort you and Jun to the building.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Sitting in your office chair, you look at Minghao, then at Jun. Seokmin needs to come and give the final word. In minutes, he enters your office with a serious look on his face and sits down next to Hao.

Jun: Well?

Seokmin: A success. All went as planned.

Minghao: Fuck yeah!

Rua: Casualties?

Minghao: Some hits on the truck I was in, it will need some fixing. The paintings are safe though. One of the men was injured on his shoulder, will check on him later.

Rua: Good enough. How many did you get to steal?

Seokmin: The whole special exhibition. 25 I think?

Minghao: Yes, 25. I was handling them with so much care and almost cried when I touched them.

Jun: Aww, my little art lover.

Rua: I might let you have one as a thank you gift for doing such a good job.

Jun: So what’s the plan now? What do we do with them? Sell them?

Rua: What would piss off Mingyu the most?

Seokmin: To see them destroyed?

Rua: To never find out what happened to them.

Minghao: He got this coming. Let’s see how his good friend Jeon Wonwoo will get him out of it. Those paintings are worth over 100 million together.

Jun: We will be prepared for anything they have to throw at us.

Rua: I want a meeting with Yoongi tomorrow, need to know we can count on him in case of war with the Kim’s and the mayor. Minghao, did you manage to get some information from the guy that attacked me?

Minghao: Not yet, then again, I only had one session with him and it was light torture. Next time I’ll get what I need from him, even if I need to kill him. And speaking of that, I might of shot Jeonghan tonight.

Jun: You what?

Minghao: I had to, he was in my way and didn’t want to run him over with the truck.

Rua: Awww, what a good former friend you are.

Minghao: Like you would actually kill Mingyu.

Rua: I might, I don’t know.

Well nobody believed you, because they knew you still cared about him in some way or another. And they thought that he felt the same. If you both wanted the other dead, it would be easy to do it.

It was a long night. Laying in bed, your mind went to Seungcheol and a naughty thought came into your head. “I’ll just send him a little photo as good night, give him a little sneak peak of what he could have. But. I’ll act innocent about it.”

credits for the girl photo: Infaithes

Next morning, your door flies open with a loud bang, waking you up.

Rua: What the fuck!

Jun: Wake up, there is a shitshow out there.

Rua: What?

Jun: The whole media, the netizens, the police, the city hall, everyone went crazy about last night’s heist.

Rua: Ok, slowly please. And I need something for my head. Anyone called?

Jun: Yeahh, including Yoongi. You need to convince him it was not us.

Rua: I’m not worried. We worked with just a handful of people and we planted little decoys to point toward other groups.

Jun: I’ve heard Mingyu is pissed about Jeonghan getting shot. Now he knows how it feels.

Rua: That’s enough for today, I am going to lay low and take the day off after I meet with Yoongi.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Later in your office, your assistant announces the Min’s arrival and she invites them in. He came with Jungkook and Taehyung. Jungkook hugs you eagerly, asking if you’re ok after the altercation last night.

Rua: How is everyone? Had lunch, you’re hungry?

Yoongi is pacing inside the room and gets a low laugh out.

Yoongi: You really did the Kim’s dirty, didn’t you?

Rua: If you’re talking about the heist, no. I wish it was me, putting such a big hole into his pockets. But no, sorry to disappoint.

Taehyung: It wasn’t you? No way it was not you.

You look at them with a smile on your face while leaning back in your chair.

Rua: I want to know who did it thought, and make them my friends.

Yoongi leans over your desk and looks into your eyes for a good moment, and you keep his gaze.

Jungkook: Then who did it?

Rua: I thought it was you guys, that’s why I asked to meet today. I really thought you did it and I am expecting a retaliation from him. Wanted to talk about our alliance and plan in case of war.

Yoongi: I mean, since none of us did it, there is no reason for him to hit us.

Rua: But how will he know this?

Jungkook: I guess we’ll need to reinforce our security everywhere, be careful and just wait to see his next move.

Rua: I wonder who he pissed off so bad that they went and did this.

Yoongi: We will probably find out one way or another. Anyway, if you need anything I’m a call away, call any of us and we’ll do the same.

Rua: Thanks, good to know.

Jungkook: Let’s get coffee and catch up, just the two of us.

Rua: Why not, I am taking the day off anyway.

You’re walking out of the building with the three men and as Yoongi and Tae get in their car and leave, you and Jungkook cross the street and enter the coffee shop.

After ordering a slice of cake and a hot cocoa, you find a table close to the window and sit there. The atmosphere here is really nice and you like how it smells like baked sweets. Sometimes you come here alone, have your cake and just watch the people.

Jungkook: So this is how a date feels like.

Rua: Only that this is not a date.

Jungkook: You and your bf do this?

Rua: Going on dates? Of course.

Jungkook: What’s his name? What does he do? Does he treat you good?

Rua: What’s with the questions? I’d rather keep my relationship private for now. But he has a respectable job and he’s amazing.

The server comes with your order, placing the cakes and drinks on the table. She keeps looking at Jungkook and feels like she wants to say something.

Server: I’m sorry, but are you Jeon Jungkook?

Jungkook: Maybe?

Rua: Maybe? What answer is that? Yes, he is.

Server: Omg, I am such a big fan of yours. Can I maybe have an autograph?

Jungkook: Sure, anything for my fans. I’ll even take a selfie with you.

You scoffed at him and started to eat your strawberry cake. He gets so ridiculous when people recognize him. So full of himself. As you were deep in your thoughts, watching the interaction before you, your phone started ringing.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?” your answer the phone with a wide smile.

“Omg hi and why are you trying to kill me first thing when I wake up?” he says in a pouty voice.

“What did I do?” you’re keeping that innocent role.

“You don’t know what you did?”

“No, so please tell me” you say in a playful tone.

“That photo, what else? Don’t pretend like that wasn’t on purpose. I did not know you were mean like this” he pouts more

“I was just a tired girl going to sleep, that’s it.”

“What are you doing today?”

“Nothing, I took the rest of the day off. Already had a meeting.”

“Spend the day with me. Let’s go to the park, get some ice cream, then do some grocery shopping, come to my place and I’ll cook something delicious for you. Maybe we even have time for a movie.”

“I would like that.”

“I’ll come get you.”

“Ok, let me know when you get here. Drive safe.”

Jungkook: Well wasn’t that cute. Your bf?

Rua: Yeah.

Jungkook: Did you talk to Mingyu last night?

Rua: Can’t call it talking, we just bumped into each other and I complained then ran away.

Jungkook: yeah, sounds like something you would do.

Rua: Shut uuup!

Jungkook: I love it when you’re feisty. That punch you gave that girl was priceless.

Rua: Did you make her shut up in the end?

Jungkook: I mean, I told her who you were, but she said she’ll talk to her dad to sue you. Aaaanyway, back to Mingyu.

Rua: Why? No, not back to Mingyu, we don’t like Mingyu.

Jungkook: I always thought you two will end up together.

Rua: Why? We were never a thing.

Jungkook: It was so obvious you were in love.

Rua: Listen. I was in love, I admit. But he never felt the same.

Jungkook: He could’ve fooled me, I really thought he was.

Rua: Nah, we even had a conversation about it. Well, more like a fight. That was the last time we talked.

Jungkook: You really think he was involved in your dad’s death?

Rua: He could be. I never got enough proof, so it’s up in the air. Could be anyone, frankly.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

After a while, your phone pings with a text from Seungcheol that he’s in front of The Towers and you let Jungkook know. You both get up, gather your things and walk out toward the front entrance of your building.

Seungcheol got out of his car, pacing a little nervously while waiting. At some point he notices you crossing the street, with some guy next to you. As you’re getting closer he recognizes him.

When you reach him you hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

Seungcheol: Hi.

Rua: Hi.

Jungkook pushes you a little for you to introduce him, but you don’t.

Jungkook: Ya, you’re so rude. Hello, I’m Jungkook.

Seungcheol: Nice to meet you. Seungcheol.

Rua: We’re leaving. Bye, JK!

You drag Seungcheol to his car, wanting to get away from Jungkook. They don’t need to be talking.

Leaning back in the passenger seat, you watch him leaning over and for a moment you think he’s trying to kiss you.

Seungcheol: Safety first. Always wear your seatbelt.

Oh. Right.

You still blush.

Seungcheol: Didn’t know you have such dangerous friends.

Rua: Who? Jungkook?

Seungcheol: Isn’t he Min Yoongi’s brother? The Ming Yoongi who’s a gangster?

Rua: Oh, come one, there’s no such thing as gangsters.

Seungcheol: Call him gangster, mob guy, corrupt businessman, whatever you want. He’s trouble either way.

Rua: Well me and Jungkook know each other for a long time, we used to hang out and party together, we had the same circle of friends. My dad was a businessman and he often had to deal with all types of people.

Seungcheol: I guess that’s valid, but you should be careful with these people. They have really bad reputation.

Rua: Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.

Seungcheol: And how was the event last night? Anything interesting happened?

Rua: I don’t know if I should tell you. I thought it will be all over the internet today, but I guess I got lucky.

Seungcheol: Noo, what? Someone did something to you?

Rua: Well there was this girl drooling over Jungkook the whole night and she got jealous and threw her drink at me. I punched her and dragged her out of the room.

Seungcheol: Excuse me? Now I regret not being there.

Rua: Why? I didn’t need help.

Seungcheol: Clearly.  So Jungkook was there too.

Rua: Yeah, he was with some friends and I went with Jun.

Seungcheol: Surrounded my handsome dangerous men. Is that your type?

Rua: Is any of them my bf?

Seungcheol: I hope not.

You slap his thigh and whine at his words. You know he’s teasing you.

Seungcheol: Then what’s your type?

Your eyes are locked on his face, trying to see what type of reaction you get out of him with your answer, that comes pretty fast.

Rua: You.

All he can say is a silent “oh” and you see him blushing. He’s cute when he gets like this.

The ride to the park continues with you telling him about your night and how majestic the building you designed looked. He told you about his night at work and how he’s still feeling tired, but he really wanted to spend the day with you. That’s sweet, you think.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

It’s the perfect weather for a walk in the park. The sky is clear, the wind not to strong and place not crowded. He gets ice cream both, your favorite, walnut and salty caramel and you chose to sit on the grass, close to the lake.

You watch him as you’re eating your ice cream and you like the way the sunlight hits his perfectly sculpted face. He has such an attractive side profile, those lips to die for and those arms. You find yourself drooling over a man.

Seungcheol: What are you looking at?

Rua: Just you.

Seungcheol: You’re being very obvious about it.

Rua: Does it bother you?

Seungcheol: No, it’s.. nice. It’s been a while since someone looked at me like that.

Rua: Really? Women don’t admire you?

Seungcheol: I-uh-don’t really go out. I am always at work. And you know, people don’t think about stuff like that in a hospital. They come there with problems.

Rua: What about colleagues?

Seungcheol: I was married to one and since the divorce, I always kept my distance from female colleagues, just keeping it professional.

Rua: Oh. Why did you end the marriage?

Seungcheol: She… cheated with our boss. We were both working at the same clinic. So I left everything back, marriage and that job. Later on I found out that she was involved with him since way before we got married.

Rua: I’m sorry to hear that. Can’t imagine how you felt.

Seungcheol: Thanks. But shit like that happens and we need to move on. It’s been almost 2 years since the breakup and my friends started to worry about me for being single for so long.

Rua: You didn’t try to date for 2 years?

Seungcheol: No, I was too hurt to trust again. But I know people are different and I didn’t want to shut myself from the world completely.

You were taking all that in, thinking it must have been really hard for him to get over that. You try to put yourself in his shoes and you don’t know how you would react. Probably kill the guy, or at least cut his dick off and set it on fire.

He turns to you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You can tell he’s not fully recovered after what he’s been through. You’d probably never recover from that, hating on the guy for the rest of your life, and that would be valid.

Seungcheol: What about you? I know you said you never had a relationship. What about dating? A crush?

You look at him and contemplate if you should be honest or lie. Lying would make it easier, he would not question anything. But it’s what you always did whenever you were seeing someone, you lied. Stopping  them to knowing the real you.

But now, with Seungcheol, you feel like you want to open up. Maybe it will make you feel better.

Rua: I was in love once, but id didn’t work out.

Seungcheol: Why not? Can’t imagine a guy not wanting you.

Rua: The feelings were not reciprocated. We… we grew up together.

Seungcheol: Oh damn, is it Jungkook?

Rua: Ha, nooo! You don’t know him. Our parents were close and we grew up being best friends. But when we were in high school I started feeling more for him and everything changed. After his parents died in an accident we got into an argument and then I told him how I felt. But he rejected me. He just left and I never saw him again.

Seungcheol: Well let me tell you this. First, he was a shitty friend leaving you like that just because you had feelings for him. Second, any man who says no to you is insane.

In that moment, your heart started beating faster, you could feel warmth enveloping your whole body. He started leaning toward you slowly, almost giving you time to pull away or say something. But you didn’t do any of those.

Eyes locked on each other, his face so close now that you could feel his hot breath on your face, ready to close your eyes and let the kiss consume you. Your palms felt tingly for a second.

But just as his lips barely touched yours, your privacy was invaded by a little doggy who saw an opportunity to get attention as two humans sat on the ground.

This could never get you upset, even if it ruined the first kiss with the guy you were crushing hard at the moment. You loved all dogs and you had to give this little one all the kisses.

Seungcheol: Awwn, I’ve been trying for weeks and this tiny furry did it in one second.

Rua: Have you seen his face? Look at it!

You were holding the puppy up to his face for him to look at how cute he was and he had to agree.

After spending like 2-3 hours at the park, you started to get hungry, so next on the list was grocery shopping.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Walking down the aisles of the supermarket with Seungcheol beside you felt really domestic and strangely… right. It felt right, yes.

Rua: What are you cooking?

Seungcheol: Not telling you. I want to be a surprise.

Rua: So what am I supposed to do while you’re cooking? Can’t I help?

Seungcheol: Hmm. Maybe I’ll let you assist me a bit.

Moving his gaze to look behind you, he noticed two familiar figures. He also saw them earlier in the park. They seemed suspicious then too, but he chose to think that it’s maybe just a coincidence and they are just two friends that are walking, like you were. But now they were here and it looked like they were keeping an eye on you.

Suddenly, you felt his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body, hiding you both behind some boxes.

Rua: Cheol, what are you doing?

Seungcheol: I think we’re being followed.

Rua: Are you sure?

Seungcheol: Yes, two guys that I saw in the park today. They are here and they keep on looking at us.

You sigh and tap his shoulders, almost smiling.

Rua: Is one of them wearing a ridiculous beige hat with a feather?

Seungcheol: Y-yes?

Rua: Ugh, it’s fine. They work for me and they follow me for protection.

Seungcheol: Are you serious?

Rua: Yeah.

Seungcheol: Who are you?

Rua: I didn’t tell you this, but few weeks ago someone tried to kill me.

Seungcheol: When? Who?

Rua: The day of our first date.

Seungcheol: Jesus, babe. Don’t keep things like that from me. This is serious.

Rua: Babe?

You bat your lashes at him and push your fingers trough his hair, acting cute and flirty just to tease him.

He swallows hard, his throat going dry and he doesn’t know how to act. So all he can do is pout.

Rua: Oh, nooo. Don’t be upset. I told you I can take care of myself.

Seungcheol: I am very worried, don’t joke about it.

Rua: Well I can’t take a guy who is hired to kill and gets beaten up by a girl, seriously.

Seungcheol: Did you beat him up?

Rua: Mhm.

Seungcheol: Again, who are you? How are you so cool?

Rua: Let’s hurry, I am starving already.

Seungcheol: Ok, but I have so many questions.

Rua: We’ll have time to talk while you cook.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Coming back to his place brings back memories from that night you’ve been shot. There have been so many attempts at your life in the last months that it’s becoming a concern.

His apartment is cozy and it’s so him. Smells nice and it’s bright.

Rua: I’ll just be a little nosy, ok? I like to see how people design their homes and where they put their stuff and why.

Seungcheol: Go ahead, I’ll get everything ready by the time you’re done snooping.

Starting from the living room, there’s a big U shape couch that feels very soft. Naps here are great, for sure. The big industrial windows let a lot of natural light come in. The light must look pretty during sunset.

Rua: Did you move here recently?

Seungcheol: How did you know?

Rua: Well the floor barely has any scratch, same with your counters and tables. They look new. And there is a smell of new.

Seungcheol: That’s very impressive.

Rua: I’m good at this stuff.

Seungcheol: You should work as a detective.

Rua: I’d be so good at it.

Then you go into his bedroom, observe the bed, his closet. He doesn’t have that many clothes and most of them are formal. Probably suits he wears at work. Has lots of shirts, ties and white hospital robes.

The whole place is neat and organized, just a bit empty. Maybe he likes it more minimalistic.

You walk back to the kitchen and look through his cabinets.

Rua: Hmm. You barely have stuff in here.

Seungcheol: Yeah, I never cook. Always eat at work or I order takeout.

Rua: Do we have what we need to cook today?

Seungcheol: I think so, don’t worry.

Rua: Your place is very… manly?

Seungcheol: Oh? How?

Rua: Well. It’s simple, nothing complicated or fancy. But somehow it works. It looks cozy but at the same time it’s missing something.

Seungcheol: What is it missing?

Rua: I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out and let you know.

You lean your back on the kitchen island and watch and he’s moving around, looking for pans and utensils, washing the vegetables.

Seungcheol: So who might want to see you dead? Pff, it sounds so weird saying it out loud.

Rua: Umm, lots of people.

Seungcheol: Like?

Rua: The competition, politicians, jealous girls, I don’t know.

Seungcheol: Want to talk about that night when you got shot? Was it another attempt at your life?

Rua: I am not sure if it was, maybe they wanted to scare me off, to injure me, not make me keep my mouth shut, to kill my men. I don’t know.

Seungcheol: Where did it happen?

Rua: I was meeting one of my associates at his warehouse and when we got there, shootings started, stuff blowing up. The whole building got burned to the ground.

Seungcheol: Oh, I think I saw about that on the news.

Rua: Yeah. I could of died there.

Seungcheol: But do you have one person that you suspect?

Rua: Yes, I have one in mind.

Seungcheol: Who?

You’re not sure you should say the name. But then again, if something happens to you, people should know who to point fingers at.

Rua: Kim Mingyu.

Seungcheol: The Kim Mingyu? The super wealthy guy? The most desired bachelor in the country? The shady businessman that has connections with dirty politicians? That Kim Mingyu?

Rua: That’s him.

Seungcheol: Now, why? Why does he hate you?

Rua: Ugh, it’s a long story.

Seungcheol: I have time. Like one hour until food is ready.

Rua: I’ll give the very short version.

As he’s getting the meat ready, you move to the other side of the island and lean over it, sighing.

Rua: So basically. You know my dad was killed. It was by a hired assassin. We caught the killer but didn’t get to find out who hired him. Rumors started spreading that the Kim’s had something to do with it, but I never wanted to believe it. You see, my parents and Mingyu’s parents were friends, so me and him were friends too. Then his parents had an accident and they died. Minyu thought that I did it, since I suspected his family of killing my father. We had a big fight, and since we’ve been enemies.

Seungcheol: Wait. So.

He turns to look at you and you can see the wheels on his brain moving.

Seungcheol: Is Kim Mingyu your first love?

Rua: Unfortunately.

Seungcheol: I’m sorry I am laughing, but this sounds so crazy. it’s like some friends to enemies book, or whatever they call it.

Rua: Listen, Cheol. I am not an innocent person. I have done things in my life, and I’ll keep doing it if I need to. But I don’t want to involve you into any of this. That’s why, some thing it’s better that you don’t know.

Seungcheol: You’re scaring me now. You make it sounds like you’re always in danger. Does it mean I am too?

Rua: I hope you’re not, but if we will be seen out together by the wrong people, you will be. So I am asking you... let’s keep this as private as we can. For your safety.

Seungcheol: As much as I would like to show you off to the world, I am a homebody and I am fine with having a private relationship.

Rua: Is that what this is? Are we in a relationship?

Seungcheol: Well, you’re my girlfriend.

He’s walking toward you and you’re straightening yourself, turning to him.

Rua: I don’t know, you never asked me to be.

When he’s right in front of you, his hands go on your waist, pulling you to his body. Chests touching, eyes locked. His voice becomes deeper, more seductive.

Seungcheol: You were my girlfriend since our first date.

Now his face was right here, leaning down to yours. Lips brushing, he’s not in a hurry at all. His fingers squeezing your hips, pushing you impossibly close to him. His body heat radiating all over.

Then it happens. His lips are fully on yours, gentle, exploring the possibilities. Your eyes don’t close, almost in disbelief that you’re finally kissing someone after so long.

You like to be able to see his kissing face, it’s hot. Your hands fly to his face, touching it slowly, caressing it, moving over the nape of his neck.

You melt under his touch and the kiss feels so soft. He’s so gentle and attentive.

You feel his tongue licking your lower lip as a sign that he wants to deepen the kiss, so you open your lips and let him. Tongues licking one another, the kiss getting more passionate, but still soft.

Gets you so turned on that a breathy moan escapes you and at the sound of that his arms go around your waist, holding you flush to his body.

After a while, you both feel like you need air and you pull back, looking at each other with want. But now’s not the time for more. You’re not ready. You need to be sure.

Rua: Are you trying to deduce me?

Seungcheol: Is it working?

You nod and give him another kiss, this time shorter.

Seungcheol: Ok, back to cooking. You can help me from now on.

And that’s what you do, you both work on dinner while you ask questions about each other. You find out more about his childhood, his family and his relationships. He’s also giving good answers and good reactions at your inquiries, trying to see if he’s a kind, respectful and empathetic person.

Food is ready and you’re taking small bites, careful not to burn your tongue. He seems amused by it.

Rua: What’s funny? It’s hot and I really need to eat.

Seungcheol: You’re cute.

He leans to give you a little kiss and in that moment you realize that you’re in a relationship. Might be very new, but it feels like home. You never felt like this and you think he might be the one.

After dinner, you both clean and wash the dishes, then lay comfortably on the couch, surrounded by fluffy pillows. He turns on a movie, you chose a comedy so you pick “What we do in the shadows”.

You can’t really concentrate on the movie, since he’s holding you like that. You can feel his every muscle, the way his chest is moving with each breath he takes and it makes your head float. You take short breaks to kiss, but you try to keep it PG and he’s not pushing it.

Sleep takes over your tired bodies and you slowly start to wake up after a while. It’s already dark outside, so that means it’s after 9 pm. He can feel you move in his arms and he wakes up too.

Rua: I should head back home.

Seungcheol: I’ll take you.

Rua: Stay and rest, I’ll call Jun.

Seungcheol: No no, your bf is taking you home.

You smile and hide your face into his chest, hugging him tighter. He kisses the top of your head then lifts himself up.

Rua: Would love to spend the night with you, but I don’t feel ready yet for that. Hope you understand.

Seungcheol: You don’t need to explain, I like taking it slow.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

On your way home, you feel happy. It’s like a rush that goes through you, similar to what you used to feel when you were very young and in love. He takes your hand, gives it a kiss, then puts it on his thigh so he can drive.

You’re texting Jun that you’re coming home and ask what’s he doing and if something new came up.

No response for the next few minutes. It’s unlike him, but maybe he’s in the middle of something important.

A strange feeling starts to creep up in your head, your senses become sharper and you tell yourself you should be aware of your surroundings. It almost feels too quiet, like the quiet before the storm.

Rua: Something’s wrong.

Seungcheol: Are you feeling sick?

Rua: No. I have a bad feeling.

And there it is, a car speeding from the right, ready to crash into you. Cheol is quick and turns the wheel as hard as he can, his car getting hit in the back now, and not at full speed. Your car spins twice in the middle of the road, the other one stops.

You try to clear your head, looking at Seungcheol to see if he’s ok. The airbags went off and your ears are ringing. You reach into your bag and take your gun out. Before pointing to the car, you look around to see if there are people, but it’s pretty deserted at this hour, especially in this part of town.

From behind, you see another car getting closer and stopping next to the car that hit you, you recognize it’s your guys that have been following you all day. They get off their car with guns in their hands, walking to the perpetrators.

But the car’s engine starts and you tell Cheol to go. Your men get back into their car, planning to follow you and finish whoever is attacking you.

You start shooting at the car that’s getting closer and closer.

Seungcheol: What the fuck is going on???

You’re in full fight mode, you don’t register what he’s saying, trying to hit the driver. They manage to reach your car and hit it just a bit, making you yell.

Rua: Push that pedal!

Seungcheol: This is fucking insane! Be careful!

One of their tires explodes, probably your guys shot it from behind, so you take advantage of the situation since there’s enough space between you and them. You push yourself more out the window, telling Seungcheol to hold you by your leg to make sure you don’t fall.

You concentrate, aim and pull the trigger. Right into the driver’s chest or head, you believe. It definitely hit him, the car crashing into some parked cars.

You slowly pull yourself back in the car, tell Cheol he can slow down, in a very calm voice and you just sit back, gun in your hand, that sits on your lap.

Seungcheol: What the actual fuck?

Rua: I got them.

Seungcheol: What do you mean?

Rua: I mean I hope I killed that son of a bitch.

Seungcheol: I can’t believe this is happening.

Rua: Are you ok? Want to stop the car?

Seungcheol: I am not ok, no. But I don’t want to stop, what if others come.

Then your men slowly catch up to your car, driving next to yours, lowering their window to check on you. You give them a thumbs up, signaling them to follow you. And they remain driving closely behind.

You can see Seungcheol’s hands shaking on the steering wheel and you put your hand on his thigh, trying to calm him.

Rua: It’s ok, we’re safe now. We are going to reach my building in a few minutes, pull up through the back entrance. We need to get rid of this car and erase any information about its number registration.

Seungcheol: What? Why?

Rua: They will search for the plate numbers and reach your name.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••───────•°•❀•°•───────•

In less than 10 minutes you reach The Towers, a few men already waiting at the entrance. You get off the car, Seungcheol going around it to see the damages.

Seungcheol: Fuck! It’s fucked.

Rua: Don’t worry about it, it matters that we’re ok. I’ll give you a new car tomorrow.

Seungcheol: What do you mean you’ll give me a new car tomorrow? What am I, some princess in a romcom?

Rua: If you want to be.

You smile at him and take his hand to pull him toward the elevator.

Seungcheol: You think it’s funny? We could be dead now. What have I got myself into?

You see Jun and Hao running to you, their faces relieved seeing that you’re ok.

Jun: Are you injured?

Rua: No. Get rid of the car and erase anything that links it to Seungcheol.

Minghao: I’ll get right to it.

Rua: And have a car ready in the morning for him to use.

Seungcheol: We haven’t talked about this.

Rua: That’s the best solution, trust me.

He looks at Jun, almost waiting for him to say that this is all going to far, but Jun just shrugs his shoulders.

Jun: She’s the boss and it’s not our first rodeo.

Seungcheol: Someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on.

Rua: Let’s go to my apartment, relax and talk.

Minghao: Boss!

You stop yourself and turn to him.

Minghao: I have important news.

Rua: Can it wait?

Minghao: Not really.

Rua: What’s it about?

Minghao: I found out who sent that guy to attack you.

Your face became serious, heart starting to beat faster, waiting to hear Mingyu’s name. It terrified you really. You still didn’t want to believe he would do something like that. You weren’t ready.

Rua: Who?

He sights and gives you the name. You look in shock at Seungcheol, thinking you were so foolish.

[midwestprentiss]

i am never anywhere [spencelle]

summary: gideon dies, and elle has to mourn the man she loved and learn to live with the presence of the man she still loves

warnings and notes: death, angst, mentions of blood. inspired by ketchum, id by boygenius which is a song i think everyone should listen to

wc: 2.7k

I am never anywhere, anywhere I go.

When I’m home, I’m never there long enough to know.

Gideon had died. And it crushed Elle.

The office she used to grace with her presence knew about it before she did. Because they always did. Once she had grown out her hair again, moved across the country, and started a new job, she didn’t hear a word from the people she used to love like a family. Did she make them feel sick, remembering how little they’d done in the wake of something that scarred her for the rest of her life? She knew she wasn’t supposed to think that way—they all went through hell. It was just that she hadn’t been able to get out of it. 

Elle didn’t know anything anymore. She lived in a house near the ocean, in a quiet town where everyone knew each other's name. She liked it there. Until she sat in her living room, finding out that a man she loved like a father had died a week ago and no one had thought to tell her—not even Spencer. 

God, Spencer.

She didn’t know it was possible to want to talk to someone so much. 

It had been seven whole years since they last saw each other, let alone talked. Enough years for Elle to have started her social work and for the BAU to catch more than a hundred killers. And yet she still finds herself thinking about Spencer from time to time. His manner of speaking, his rambling, the way he’d furrow his eyebrows or wrinkle his nose when he was confused. She still remembers the softness of his hands and the way he felt beside her that one night in the hotel.

She aches to be near him again. But not like this.

Elle had landed a couple of hours ago, checking into a low-profile hotel. The walls were washed with a pale gray, the floorboards creaking slightly when she stepped on them wrong. Her old two-inch heels lay at the corner near the door. It felt painfully like the night at the hotel.  Quiet, and maybe even serene. But no one was with her tonight, and if she would drink from those small spirit bottles, she’d be drinking alone.

Elle stared at her phone, an older model from a few years ago. She had never bothered to replace it. She wondered whether anything would happen if she got a call or a text. It was ultimately futile, since she had changed her number. This place felt far from home, like all other places did. All that was left for her in this big, now unfamiliar city was the funeral. The funeral, where she’d have to face both the loss of the man she loved and the presence of the man she still did. 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

She had picked out a black wool coat, one of the only heavy ones she had. She stares at her feet, clad in the black heels she still kept from her days at the BAU. She smooths down the front of her shirt and trousers when it hits her all at once. The overwhelming feeling of emptiness, knowing she’d lost someone without saying goodbye. And the equally overwhelming feeling of being in over her head by merely deciding to be in the city.

She didn’t want to see the ones she knew, not really. She didn’t want to see the looks of shock on their faces when they saw her after all this time. Elle didn’t want to draw attention or even talk. She simply wanted to pay her respects to the man who had taught her so much. 

By the moment she walks out the hotel room door, she already has to wipe her tears.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

No, I’m sorry, I do not know

what else you want from me. 

The clouds, tinted gray, seemed to overshadow the cemetery. Elle stood in a corner, her heart growing weaker by the moment. Why did she decide to go there? It was stupid, it was useless, it didn’t make her feel better. Seeing the team for the first time in years sent a stab of pain in her chest, and having to hear their eulogies was like letting the blood flow freely, staining her skin and her clothes and her soul. 

She couldn’t help but notice Spencer looking over at her. Over and over again during the course of the ceremony. Like he was waiting for her to walk to his side, silently accompanying him in his time of grief. 

Spencer looked so different. Gone was the slicked-back hair and innocent face. Gone was the soft brown sweater vest he always used to wear. His hair was shorter, messier. He stood up straighter but still had the hunched back. There was something fundamentally different about him—lines etched deeper into his face, a weariness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He carried himself with more surety now, but the sadness in his expression never quite left. The ay he looked at her was the same since she last saw him—with pity. She hated that.

Soon, it was time to lay flowers on the casket. Elle held a single white rose, her pretty face screwed up with the effort of trying not to cry. God, she felt so out of place here, with them , when they used to be her home. It was like she didn’t have it at all anymore. 

She lays the fresh flower on the mahogany casket at the same time Spencer does across her. Their eyes meet, both glassy and carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words. 

As soon as it began, it was over. And that was left with Elle was the ringing silence of loss.

The weight of it settles deeply in her bones. She stood still, staring at the casket as the others began to drift away in small clusters, murmuring condolences and goodbyes. She should leave, too. She should go back to the peaceful, quiet life she had built far from this place. But her feet wouldn’t move.

What was she waiting for, really?

For someone to acknowledge that she was here at all?

It was a stupid thought. She had no right to feel slighted—she was the one who left. And yet, standing there, surrounded by ghosts of the past, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had walked into a story that had long since moved on without her.

She exhaled, steeling herself to leave. But then she heard footsteps behind her, trampling the leaves. Slow, hesitant. Familiar.

“…Hi, Elle.”

He says softly, her name sounding foreign yet so familiar from his lips. 

“I… do you still remember me?”

In spite of herself, Elle laughs. It’s a weak, tired laugh tainted with her tears.

“I would never forget you.”

“I hoped so,” Spencer says, shuffling on the balls of his heels. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, tapping frantically on the bottom of his black cardigan. “I wanted to call you, but I didn’t really want to leech your number off of Garcia. I know you would’ve changed it.”

The thoughts in Elle’s head slowly fade to a blur as her heart sinks. He had wanted to call her, just like she did him. None of them was strong enough to simply dial the number. 

“Thanks,” she says, her words a little shaky. She’d never cried in front of Spencer before, although she came very close during their night together at the hotel. “I appreciate the privacy.”

“Could we maybe… do you want to talk?”

His voice was hopeful, much like it used to be. It pained Elle so much to hear the voice she had missed for seven years.

“…Sure. I can talk,” she says, almost reassuring herself. 

Spencer walks her to his car, the same Robin’s egg Volvo he used to drive. She had been in it a few times when he asked her to go to film festivals with him or visit a few public libraries, calling it a date. The light blue exterior was dusty as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. Spencer didn’t drive around much, anyway. He preferred public transport. Elle curses herself for thinking so many things in the span of so little time, just because she saw that damn car.

He opens the door for her, something he probably wouldn’t have thought to do back when they first knew each other. Her curls, now longer again, brushed against his cardigan sleeve. Elle thought he’d jolted a little when that happened.

She settles in the passenger seat, the worn leather creaking under her weight. Spencer hesitates for a moment, making sure she’s inside okay before rounding the car to slide in the driver’s seat. He looked out of place there, she thought. He puts a hand on the wheel, letting out a breath. For once, he looked speechless.

“I don’t even know where to start," he admits, eyes flicking over to her before returning to the road ahead of them. "I feel like I’ve been rehearsing this conversation in my head for years. And now that you’re here, it’s... I don’t know. I don’t know what to say, which is weird.”

Elle leans her head against the cool window, watching the raindrops beginning to speckle the surface. The water slides off the glass, bringing the dust along with it. "Start wherever you want. I’m here."

She lets out a breath while waiting for Spencer to talk, feeling foreign somewhere she used to be so comfortable in. His eyes, where she used to find reassurance, now held confusion. A sort of vulnerability that she’d never really seen in him before.

“I should’ve told you,” Spencer says tentatively, avoiding Elle’s gaze. Perhaps it was for the better. She couldn’t look at him either. “About Gideon. I should have called.”

“You had no way to.”

The words sounded feeble, even to her own ears.

“I know you wouldn’t want to leech my new number off of Garcia. I would have found that weird.”

He nods, still refusing to meet her eyes. "I know. I just... what I didn’t know was if you’d even want to hear from me. You left, and I thought maybe you wanted to keep it that way."

Elle still remembered how she had pushed him away without a word. How she had moved his arm away from her, avoided him for ages after, left without leaving him as much as a note. She never called, she never texted, and she never even tried sending a letter. She hadn’t even returned to the city in the years she was gone. She couldn’t blame him for respecting her wishes. But she missed him.

"I did," she admits, staring down at her hands. "I wanted to keep it that way. Until I didn’t."

Spencer exhales sharply, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter. The rain outside grows steadier, drumming softly against the windshield. Elle closed her eyes, the sound of the raindrops filling her senses. 

"What changed?" he asks, his voice quieter than ever.

Elle swallows. What had changed? Was it Gideon’s death? Was it the way she realized that no matter how far she ran or how much she had changed, some things would never leave her? Or was it the way Spencer looked at her across the casket, like she was a memory his poor imagination brought back to life? She didn’t know. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

“I don’t know.”

Spencer seems to ponder her answer, his thoughtful eyes darting everywhere but to her. “Where… where did you go? In the seven years, seven months, and twelve days since then?”

“You’ve been counting?”

“No, but I do remember how long it’s been.”

Elle laughs again, the sound broken by her tears and the raindrops falling steadily out the window.

“I live in Rhode Island now.”

Spencer nods, absorbing the words like they hold more weight than they should. Rhode Island. Of all places. It fits, somehow. Elle always thought she belonged by the ocean—untamed, shifting, vast. Spencer grips the wheel a little tighter, as if his words were dying in his throat one by one. 

“That makes sense,” he says instead. “You always liked the water.”

Elle’s lips twitch, just barely. “You remember that?”

“I remember a lot of things.”

A silence settles upon them. It’s the type of silence between two people who used to know each other better than anyone else but now feel like strangers in their own bodies. Elle takes the time to study his features, his longer hair, the line of his mouth. 

“Did you ever want to come back?”

The question hits Elle squarely in the face. Their gazes finally meet, and his is darkened with the pain of nostalgia and exhaustion. 

“Wanting to come back and being able to are two different things.”

“Yes. I was asking about whether you wanted to.”

“Would you be mad if I said no?”

Spencer looks at her thoughtfully, tilting his head. “No. Why would I?”

“Because I thought you’d think I never wanted to see you. Of course I wanted to see you. It’s just that… nothing feels like home to me anymore.”

She had never been this vulnerable with someone. Elle was always the tough one, fighting it out since childhood. She had protected herself against everything until her shield inevitably broke down from the strain. She was the one who chased monsters, not the one who kept them alive in her head. She had to be strong because if not for her strength, who was she?

“Elle…” Spencer starts, his eyes cast downward. “I… I can’t really say I understand because I know I don’t. I know I’ll never know what you went through.

It was a pleasant surprise, Elle thought. She had once gotten frustrated with him after he tried to raise her spirits after the incident , albeit with good intentions. Because he would never understand. No one ever would, and she had to live with the burden of knowing that for the rest of her life. 

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly. “For not calling. For not trying harder.”

Elle exhales, shaking her head. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

She didn’t want his pity. She wanted his reassurance. She wanted his love.

“I do.” His voice is firm now, his hand bravely making its way to hold hers. A shiver runs up her spine, permeating the barriers she so painstakingly built for herself. “I lost you once. And I just—” He stops himself, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear a thought before it takes hold. “I should’ve tried harder.”

She reaches out, her fingers tightening against his on the gear shift. The touch is fleeting and unexpected but enough to make Spencer still completely. He swallows, his nose crinkling by habit.

“You’re trying now,” she says. “That’s what matters.”

Spencer looks down at where her hand rests on his, then back up at her. There’s something in his eyes—hesitation, hope, something else she can’t name. She hoped what she was seeing was real. That he wasn’t just a cruel joke the universe played on her like it always did.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks after a quiet moment. “We could go somewhere. Just talk. No pressure, of course.”

Elle considers it. The logical thing would be to say no. To keep her peace, she had to keep her distance like she has for the past seven years. But Spencer is here. Real and warm and looking at her like maybe, just maybe, there’s something worth salvaging between them. She wants to meet that soft mouth like she used to, maybe hold him in bed, plant her lips on his forehead, and tell him that everything would be okay. She wanted to feel like everything would be okay. Even if she barely knew the man in front of her right now.

She takes a breath.

“Yeah,” she says, offering him a small, genuine smile. “I’d like that.”

[batshotcrazy]

good girl - matt sturniolo

pairing : slightdom!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warning : DEGRADING, PRAISE, BIG ON THE SEX TALK, MENTION OF COCKWARMING, OH AND A MENTION OF A MASK KINK 😋

text : matt

text : reader

baby

what ?

the shower

is a standing shower

so ?

ohhh i know

perfect for yk

you could give me head too

oh we could do like anything

i know we can

i can eat you out

fuck you from behind

pin you to the wall and fuck you

you have me going crazy rn

i know i do baby i'm sorry

the way i would ginger you

the way i would bite you with my dick inside of you

jesus

please bite me and mark me all you want

do whatever you want to me baby

i'm all yours

mhm you would like that wouldn't you ?

such a good girl

i would like that a lot

you know i would

make me feel so good matt

the things i would do to you rn

the way i'd make you cum all over my face

can you please sit on my face and let me eat you out ?

i'd let you do anything to me, yes

i'd cum all over your face if you cum all over mine

holy fuck

what baby ?

tell me abt it

i don't know

what, now you’re all shy ?

what happened to my confident boy ?

no he's here

i'd tease your whole body until you beg me for more

have your eyes rolling back

tease your clit with my dick

you would have so many scratch marks on your back

i know i would pretty girl

you kissing me and making eye contact while i'm inside of you

i hope you know that when i get back home i'm not holding myself back

i expect you to not hold yourself back

such a good girl for me

don't say that to me rn omg

what ?

you are such a good girl

my good girl

jesus

what ?

you all wet ?

wet for me like such a good girl ?

yes ..

damn right you are

my pretty little slut

i'm your pretty little slut matt

god i'm going crazy here

i wish you were here with me

the things we would do to each other

i wish you were in this bed with me

i bet you do baby

i do, so i could cockwarm me

fuck

doing whatever you want to me

i'd do anything you want me to

i bet you would bc you’re such a good girl

only a good girl for you

such a good whore

sorry idk if you would like that one

my jaw dropped

call me anything you want atp idc

oh my god

you love teasing me

mhm and i know you can't do anything abt it

when i'm off this trip istg

what are you gonna do ?

i'm gonna be all over you

tell me more

be a good girl

it'd be so much better if i could show you

i'm not so shy anymore baby

my confident boy back ?

you like him more or the shy one ?

i love both but i think i like my confident boy just a bit more rn

i bet you do

can i not go easy on you when you you get home ?

yes you don't have to go easy on me

good, bc i want to leave you looking like a mess you pretty little slut

OH MY GOD

i'll even cater to your little mask kink and fuck you with a scream mask on

or whatever mask you would prefer

would you like that baby ?

PLEASE

you’re driving me crazy

i bet i am

[avenging-fandoms]

Wedding Date - Pedro Pascal

"Ah shit!" You put the wine bottle on the counter as you look at the wedding invitation on the fridge. Next weekend was your friend's wedding and you had a plus one when you RSVP'd with your ex-boyfriend.

You sigh and grab a glass, filling it more than half way and taking a big sip. You pick up your phone and scroll through your contacts, picking out a few names before accidentally stop-clicking on the perfect person.

"Yn?"

"Pedro! Hey, how have you been?" You lean over the counter and sip your wine.

"I've been good, Yn, are you okay? We haven't talked in a while. I'm sorry about that by the way, I just got so busy."

"Oh no worries at all Pedro. You know, to make it up to me, you could come to my friend's wedding with me next weekend." You bit your nails and waited for his answer.

"I am free, what's the dress code?"

"Black Tie, I can get you a suit if you-"

"No, sweetheart, I've got it covered. I'd like to see you before next weekend and catch up, if you're up for it." He offers and you smile behind your glass.

"Of course, Pedro. I'll text you my schedule. Thank you, thank you so much. I'll see you soon." You hang up the phone and pump your fist, sipping your wine before grabbing a bag of pretzels and heading to the couch.

You sit against the wall on the bench, sipping your iced coffee as you wait for Pedro. He asked to meet you at his favorite coffee place and you agreed, missing the ray of sunshine you had.

"Yn!" The bell dings above the door and you look up from your phone, smiling as your eyes meet Pedro's. You stand as he walks over to you, engulfing you in a big hug. "Oh I've missed you, how have you been?" He pulls away and holds your face, kissing your cheek and the both of you sit.

"So, Pedro, how are you? Or should I call you Joel Miller? You played the hell out of that role." You sip your coffee and he smiles.

"You watched?" You look at him. "Thank you, princesa. I'm really proud of it. What did you think of it?"

"I thought it was so.. beautiful. That might be a weird word to use but your acting, Bella's, oh my god everyone in that show is so goddamn talented."

You drink 3 coffees and eat 2 donuts, Pedro 2 coffees, a tea and a bagel, he paid. He holds out his hand which you grab, standing up and following him outside while holding loosely onto his fingers.

"Well.. it was lovely to catch up, Yn." He stops and turns to you, your smile identical to his. "I can't wait to be your date this weekend."

"Thank you for doing that, Pedro. It's a late ask and I totally forgot."

"No worries, honey. I'll see you Saturday." He gives you a wink before turning and walking to his car. You turn and bite your lip, speed walking to your car so you could scream about this date.

-

You smooth out your dress and turn in the mirror, smiling and putting in your earrings. You hear a knock at the front door and grab your phone and clutch, heading down the stairs and opening the door.

"Oh.. my.." You exhale slowly, taking Pedro in. From the slicks back hair with the curls poking out, glasses, suit and shiny shoes. "You look absolutely amazing, Pedro."

"I think you mean yourself, hermosa. Show me." You spin slowly with a giggle and he sighs. "I am the luckiest plus one ever." He holds out his arm and you hold his bicep as he takes you to the car. He opens your door and you get in, closing your door and he gets in, the driver heading off.

A 30 minute ride with soft conversations later you arrive at the venue. Pedro quickly gets out as he sees you reaching for the handle. He opens the door and holds out his hand, your hand gentle in his as you step out of the car.

You hold his bicep as his hand rests on his stomach. You sign yours and Pedro's names, Pedro getting a few looks and waves. Behind your sunglasses you threw glares at the women throwing him winks and flirty looks. It wasn't your place but deep in your stomach it bothers you.

He leads you to seats and wipes yours off before you sit. He sits beside you and you hear whispers, so you grab his hand and bring it to your lap, tracing his bullseye tattoo mindlessly.

The ceremony was some what long, but you always cry during the vows. You hold Pedro's hand as you head inside, grabbing a drink for the two of you. You find your names and tablet number, sitting down near the bride and groom's table. You sat with some old friends and people you weren't familiar with, introducing Pedro to them all.

You ate, chatted and laughed before before starts to play. You watch as people start to stand, dancing with friends and partners for a few songs and then the first dance happens, followed by the other dances.

"Couples, please join the bride and groom with their parents on the dance floor." The DJ announces and you stand with a smile, walking by Pedro and dragging your hand from shoulder to shoulder as you look over yours, Pedro grabbing your hand as it trails down his arm.

Your hand rests in his palm with his hand on your hip, your hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for coming, I'm sorry you're getting so much attention, I'm sure I'll be bitched at about it." You huff and he laughs, pushing his hand to your lower back and pulling you into his body.

"I'm happy you asked me, seeing you in this dress has been the highlight of my year." He hums as a shiver goes up your spine, his fingertips digging into your back.

Claps erupt from everyone around you two and you join in, heading back to your seats as they do the bouquet toss. You chat with Pedro a bit and he can't keep his hand off your knee as he watches you speak.

"Pedro, can I have this dance?" Some woman interrupts while you're in the middle of speaking to Pedro and your eyes immediately shoot to her, putting your hand on Pedro's that was on your leg.

"No, I'll dance with only my date tonight, but I thank you for your wonderful offer." The woman walks away a little embarrassed and you look at him.

"You could've danced with her, you are single, aren't you?" You ask and sip your wine, looking at Pedro whose eyes grew dark as he looks at you.

"They're not who I want." You inhale sharply with a soft smile, setting down your wine and clearing your throat.

"Did you still need the bathroom? I need to freshen up, we can find them together." You say and he nods quickly, following you to the bathroom and locking the men's bathroom door.

[hannahssimblr]

Seven on the button, and the doorbell rings. I hear it from the garden as I empty the contents on the lawn mower into the bin, grass stains on my new shoes, sweat on my brow. Dad comes to the back door. 

“Bell,” he says. 

“Is it someone for me?”

“I assume so. A young woman.” 

“Didn’t you let her in?”

“No. I spotted her from my office window.”

I scoff. He’s so weird. Why wouldn’t he just answer? I wipe the grass from my hands onto the sides of my shorts, kick my dirty shoes off on the patio, and head down the hallway to the sounds of Ivy plonking on the piano. 

It’s Evie, in her usual denim shorts and a thin green cardigan, hair straight and shiny and wearing a shy smile. Despite seeming slightly frazzled, she looks so nice, like she’s put in effort, unlike me, all grass stains, sweat, and hair that is no doubt sticking up at some wild angle. I run my fingers through it. 

“Oh, hi,” I say. “I didn’t think you’d come so early. I… still have to shower.”

“Oh, God, sorry, am I the first one here?”

“Yeah, but come in, anyway. My sister is just practising for her piano lessons. She hasn’t played all summer.” I roll my eyes as the door clicks behind us. “In case you can’t tell. She’s a bit shite.”

Evie doesn’t respond, but looks around her with those big green eyes taking in her surroundings, skating up the panelled walls to the Georgian coving, the ceiling roses around the lights, all restored, faithful to the original house. It occurs to me to wonder, for the first time, what her home looks like, and the differences between our upbringings that didn’t matter an ounce on our little escapist slice of the beach.

“Do you want tea or something?”

She nods, and I take her through to the kitchen. There, she perches on a stool at the island and rests her elbows, trying not to be so obvious to her gawking. This time, she takes in the kitchen, this bespoke, perfect show-house-like kitchen with all of its integrated appliances, the state-of-the-art hob that’s barely used, the skinny cupboard made specifically for all the herbs and spices that still have the plastic wrap on them. It’s nice, sure, it’s like something from a magazine, but I would prefer this was the type of house that had magnets on the fridge door instead. 

“I’m sorry I’m early,” Evie says with a rueful smile. “I thought you said seven.”

I drop a tea bag into a mug for her. “Yeah, I said seven in the text, but I suppose I should have been more specific.”

“More specific about…?”

“That seven doesn’t actually mean seven, you know? That it means, like, sometime after eight.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you expected me to decode your text.”

I laugh. The misunderstanding was my fault, really, and if I’d thought about it for even a minute, I would have known that Evie, a girl who likely doesn’t go to a lot of parties, wouldn’t know the procedure. I don’t mind that she’s here at all. I am happy to see her, but the fact that she is in my house at the same time as my family is awkward. Every time I hear someone moving about in another room, all my muscles tense up. I cannot bear for her to meet them, and be able to make some kind of judgement about who I truly am through the encounter, or worse, expose herself to their judgement and scrutiny. 

As though on cue, my mother’s heels clack through the hallway, increasing in volume until all I can do is mentally prepare myself for her entrance. I curse under my breath while I fill Evie’s cup with boiling water. 

In freshly pressed trousers, she strides into the room. All jangling keys, and an air of busyness about her, so self-absorbed that it takes a moment for her to realise we have a guest. She stops dead, and surveys Evie in dull surprise. She’s like some kind of wild, feline predator, and witnessing her interactions with people who don’t yet know her ways is excruciating. 

“Oh, hello.”

“Mom, this is my friend Evie. Evie, this is my mom,” I say. 

Evie fidgets in her seat. “Hello missus Turner,” she says, and it’s so polite that I squirm.

Mom lets out a short, percussive laugh. “Oh, no, darling. It’s just Colette. Are you one of those girls from the Holy Faith school?”

“No, actually, I’m not. I’m from Tullamore, in Offaly.” 

Mom’s eyes glaze over so immediately and obviously that I cringe. 

Pulling the tea bag out, I clarify, “She’s one of my friends from holiday.”

“Ah, Shane’s sister.”

Evie picks the mug from the counter and cradles it in her hands. “No, um… No, I’m not.”

“Ah.” She’s already rifling through her handbag. “Jude, have you seen my reading glasses? I haven’t been able to find them all afternoon.”

“Did you check the office?”

“Why would they be in there?”

“I’m just asking, did you check?”

She huffs. “Why would you suggest the office? Why on earth would I have left them there?”

“Because this is your house, and you can go into any of the rooms you like. Sorry if that’s an outrageous suggestion.”

“You know I’m never in there.”

“Well, maybe dad mistook them for his and took them in. I don’t know.”

Evie stares into her mug. I am aware of the atmosphere we’re generating here, my mom and I, but it’s hard not to descend into this childish bickering every time we speak to each other lately. Even seeing her ignites this rage in me, as she is a reminder of the injustices thrust upon me, and every time I see her smug face, I think about the position she has put me in. Dad too, obviously, but I mercifully don’t have to see him outside of occasional mealtimes, and whenever someone makes a noise that disturbs him.

Eventually, mom struts out of the room and flings open the door to the living room, curtly calling on Ivy to get ready to leave, and I thank God. I won’t relax until they do. 

“How’s your tea?” I ask Evie, and she responds with a grateful smile. “It’s lovely, thank you.” I know she’s lying. I don’t know how the nuances of creating drinks I don’t enjoy. There are rules about the correct amount of milk, and how long to brew the tea bag. Maybe I shouldn’t have bashed it around in the cup with such vigour, as though transferring some of my contaminated energy into it. I wonder if she can taste it. 

“That’s good,” I say, and we lapse into a long silence.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[whoisneo404]

you should write a prompt where the reader texts nick "can you please come get me?" he could be at a party, at his home, or anywhere that seems fun to write! love ur writing 🤍

Get me out.

Summary: at a party you grow tired of this random guy talking shit about your boyfriend so you get into a fight with him, after that you text Nick to get you.

Tw: fighting, cursing, mentions of alcohol. suggestive??

‘’Yeah, and that Nick guy. God, he is such and idiot, he thinks he is the best but really, he’s just a whinny bitch. I don’t get why people like him.’’ the vodka burns my throat, or maybe it was the anger. Either way, I was done with this guy’s bullshit.

‘’The only whinny bitch I see is the one talking shit at peoples backs.’’ I walk closer to him, and push him into the wall. ‘’Say one more thing about him and I’ll break your face.’’ I don’t think of myself as a violent person, not all the time at least, but I am very protective of what’s mine.

‘’Who are you? One of his bitches?’’ he smirks.

‘’I’m the only one, actually.’’ I threw a punch at him. I hear commotion, a few of his friends rushed to me, a few of my friends rushed to him. I think I punched him a few times more but it might have been another person really. After 2 or 3 minutes I get dragged outside by my friend. ‘’Let me go. He hasn’t apologized yet, I’ll make him.’’

‘’Stop, that’s enough.’’ I sit on the floor outside the house the party was held at, my ribcage hurts, my face and knuckles too. I let out a sigh and clean off the blood running from my mouth. ‘’I’m going inside to see how the other dude is.’’ I nod and he leave. I take my phone out.

Ocean eyes

Can you please come get me?<

>Everything okay?

>Send me your location.

I look at myself in the black screen of my phone after sending him my location, he’s gonna be mad, and worried. I don’t regret punching that idiot, but I know how Nick gets when I get into a fight. After 10 or maybe 15 minutes I see the van park outside the house, Nick rushing out of the car runs to me and hugs me. I let out a loud ‘ouch’ and the breaks the hug quickly.

‘’Who hurt you? What happened? Are you okay?’’ He starts scanning my whole body for injuries and a small smile form on my face.

‘’I’m fine, I’m okay now.’’ I hug him and he gently wraps his arms around me. Caressing my hair and kissing my hair softly. ‘’Can we go to your house? My body hurts…’’

‘’Of course. Come on.’’ He helps me get up and walk to the car, inside Matt looks at me from the rear-view mirror.

‘’Hi Matt. Sorry for the hour.’’

‘’No problem. What happened?’’

‘’Long story…’’ I put on my seatbelt and lean my head into Nick’s shoulder.

----

‘’Are you gonna tell me what happened?’’ I’m sitting on the kitchen counter while Nick cleans the wounds of my face. I shrug my shoulders.

‘’You’ll get mad.’’

‘’Then why did you do it?’ I shrug my shoulders again.

‘’He was talking bullshit about you. And before you say it, I know you don’t care and I shouldn’t listen to what other people say but… I care, and I care a lot, I can just exist while other people say shit about my boyfriend, shit that is just far far away from reality.’’ He sighs and leaves the cotton covered with blood beside me, he grabs my face with both hands and makes me look at him.

‘’As hot as you look all bruised up, I don’t want you punching people every time you go out just because they said something that’s not true. We have talked about this.’’ I nod and he kisses my nose. ‘’Don’t do it again. Seriously. One of these days you’ll find someone that punches harder than you.’’

‘’I doubt that.’’

‘’Whatever you say big boy.’’ He pats my thigh. ‘’Let’s go to take a shower. It will help with the pain.’’ I nod and follow him to his room. ‘’And just so you know, it will only be a shower, I don’t want you more sore tomorrow.’’

‘’But-‘’

‘’No buts, come on. You smell like alcohol.’’

[kissalopa]

I was catching up on @aleksa-sims' real life story and told her I felt that I am a bad mom. My son is not a newborn anymore (he's a toddler), but I still sometimes get this feeling and thoughts in my head. Also the fact that some close people (one person actually, but a very close one) told me that I am a bad mom doesn't help with self confidence.

But yesterday we (me and my son) were out on a playground. Then came a young lady and sat on a bench, she was looking at her phone. I was communicating with my son like I usually do, nothing special. Then rain started, I hid under big tree while my son was playing in a sandbox that was partly sheltered by the same big tree. And that lady came under the same tree to sit on another bench. Then came an old lady with two small dogs (maybe chihuahuas, I'm not really good with dog breeds), my son wanted to pet a dog. I told him to approach carefully and give his hand to sniff first (that what you should do with cats, I don't know if it also works with dogs). But the dog started barking, and my son god scared and sad. I hugged him and told him that the dog didn't want to communicate, because she wanted to go to the toilet (the dog did it's thing while we were hugging). After that my son went back into sandbox and continued playing. At that moment lady that was sitting on a bench started talking to me. She asked how many children I have, and said that I am a good mother. That it's rare to see such connection and communication between parents and children. It was so nice to hear such words! She also said that my husband should be happy too, because I'm such a good mother to his child. (That's actually not the case, but I won't go into that now.) I thanked her several times then we wished a good day to each other and she went on her way.

I'm sorry for the wall of text, but it's the first time something like this happened to me, so I wanted to share ☺️

[merafanbrainthatmerafans]

Shigaraki x reader

God am I that annoying with my posts? Anyway I dont care, here's a shiggy awkwardest shit my Merafan brain could ever make...

!!!!PLEASE BE AWARE OF!!!!

!!!!CRINGE!!!!

!!!!SECOND HAND EMBARRASSEMENT!!!!

1. The Overly-Cool Wait:

Shigaraki is trying way too hard to look cool while waiting for Y/N. He’s perched on some ledge or wall, acting all aloof, but every time he checks his watch or glances around, he looks like a total mess. His legs twitch in impatience, and when he tries to look “cool,” his posture ends up all slouched and awkward instead. When Y/N arrives, he stands up way too fast, almost tripping over himself, and then tries to play it off like it’s no big deal, cracking a nervous grin.

Scenario:Shigaraki (acting like he’s been chilling the whole time, hands in his pockets): “Took you long enough. I wasn’t waiting or anything. Just, you know, taking in the atmosphere.” nervous chuckle

Y/N: “...You okay there, Shiggy? You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Shigaraki (too embarrassed to admit it): “Nah, I’m fine. I’m totally… fine. Just... waiting for you.”

2. The Compliment Disaster:

Shigaraki is not smooth with compliments. When he tries to tell Y/N how cool or beautiful they look, it comes out completely wrong, and he knows it immediately. He either fumbles the words, says something too intense, or ends up complimenting something random and bizarre.

Scenario:Shigaraki (trying to be suave): “Hey, Y/N… your hair… it’s, uh, nice. Like, really nice, like—uh—how it falls and... yeah.”

Y/N (blinking): “...Thanks? You okay, Shigaraki?”

Shigaraki (internally screaming, face going red): “I—WHAT? No, I mean, like, it’s just... you’re not ugly. I didn’t mean it like that, okay? Don’t—just forget it.” awkward silence

3. The Forced Casual:

Shigaraki tries to act all chill and relaxed when he’s with Y/N, but it ends up being way too forced. He says things that make him sound like a cheesy, awkward teen trying to impress someone, and it’s so not him. His awkward silences, nervous fidgeting, and forced swagger are painfully obvious to Y/N, but he’s too proud to admit it.

Scenario:Shigaraki (trying to lean against a wall like it’s no big deal): “Yeah, I mean, I’m usually super busy, you know, just... chilling, ruling stuff, taking over things. But, uh... you’re worth the wait.”

Y/N (raising an eyebrow): “You’re acting weird, Shiggy. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Shigaraki (stumbling over his words, trying to stay cool): “I—I’m fine. Totally fine. Don’t look at me like that. I’m just... waiting for you, alright?”

4. The Cringe Texting:

If Shigaraki’s texting Y/N, he’s completely out of his depth. He tries to be casual and ends up sending the cringiest messages ever. He’s trying to sound confident, but the texts come out so awkward, and he sends them without realizing how bad they are until it's too late. Imagine him trying to type something “cool” and accidentally sending a message that makes him sound like a teenage idiot.

Scenario:Shigaraki: “Yo, you up?” Shigaraki: “Wait, that sounded weird... sorry.” Shigaraki: “I meant like, are you here yet??” Shigaraki: “Forget I said anything. I’ll just wait. Ignore me. Never mind.”

Y/N (reading this and laughing): “I was already on my way, but now I’m waiting to see what weird thing you’re going to send next.”

Shigaraki (facepalming): “Please don’t remind me…”

5. The Awkward Gift:

Shigaraki gets it into his head that he needs to give Y/N a gift, but he has absolutely no clue what to get. He picks something totally random, like a stuffed animal or a weird trinket, and tries to act all casual about it, but you can tell he’s clearly just trying too hard.

Scenario:Shigaraki (handing over a weird, beat-up stuffed animal): “Here. I got this for you.”

Y/N (confused, but trying to be polite): “Uh, thanks… but… why a stuffed bear?”

Shigaraki (embarrassed): “Shut up, okay?! It’s not like I was thinking about it. I just saw it and thought you might like it. It’s… cute… I guess.”

Y/N (laughing softly, trying not to make him feel worse): “It’s actually kind of sweet, Shiggy. I’ll keep it.”

6. The Overthought Hand Gestures:

Shigaraki tries to do something cool like lean in for a hug or offer his hand for a handshake, but he overthinks it to the point that it becomes a ridiculous mess. He'll fidget with his hands before extending them and get caught in the act, looking like a complete idiot.

Scenario:Shigaraki (stretching his hand out for a handshake, but his hand is shaking): “Y-You wanna... shake hands or whatever?”

Y/N (looking at his hand, amused): “You’re so nervous right now. What’s going on?”

Shigaraki (blushing slightly, clearly overthinking it): “I wasn’t nervous! I just—yeah, handshake, fine! Whatever!”

7. The Staring Contest:

Shigaraki gets weirdly competitive when it comes to staring contests. He thinks he can totally out-stare anyone, and when Y/N challenges him (teasingly), he takes it way too seriously. This leads to a really awkward, long-lasting stare, where both are silently uncomfortable but neither can back down.

Scenario:Y/N (teasing): “Bet you can’t win this staring contest.”

Shigaraki (eyes narrowing, determined): “I’m not losing, Y/N.”

A full minute of awkward silence passes while Shigaraki refuses to blink. Both are starting to feel it, and Shigaraki looks like he’s about to crack, but his stubbornness keeps him from backing down. Finally, Y/N bursts out laughing, breaking the tension.

Y/N: “I didn’t think you were actually trying so hard, Shiggy. It’s just a joke!”

Scene: Shigaraki's Texting Disaster

Y/N’s phone buzzes, and she looks down at a message from Shigaraki.

Shigaraki (9:45 PM):Hey.

Y/N smiles, figuring Shigaraki’s just being his usual self, but she responds back:

Y/N (9:45 PM):Heyyy! What's up?

A minute goes by. Then another. Then another. Finally, the typing bubble appears.

Shigaraki (9:48 PM):Did you know... I don’t like when people talk to me too much?

Y/N reads the message with a confused expression but decides to play along:

Y/N (9:49 PM):Uh, well, you talk to me a lot…? 🤔

Shigaraki (9:50 PM):Uhh. I mean... yeah, but it’s different.

Y/N (9:51 PM):Different how? 😅

Another long pause, and then the typing bubble pops up again.

Shigaraki (9:53 PM):It’s just... I like talking to you. That’s it.

Y/N blinks at the message and her heart skips a beat. She smiles, trying to keep it cool.

Y/N (9:54 PM):Aww, well I like talking to you too! 😊

Shigaraki (9:56 PM):No. I mean... like... I like talking to YOU more than other people.

Y/N's eyebrow raises at the implication. She leans back on her bed, trying to hold back a smile, knowing he’s trying but failing to be smooth.

Y/N (9:58 PM):So you’re saying I’m special? 🫣

Shigaraki (9:59 PM):Not in a creepy way!! Ugh, forget it. You’re just... more interesting than other people.

Y/N giggles a little, enjoying how flustered he’s getting.

Y/N (10:00 PM):You’re a mess, Shigaraki. But I love you anyway. 😘

Shigaraki (10:02 PM):Gahhh. Quit with that “love” stuff. It’s weird. 😤

Y/N (10:03 PM):😂 Just admit it, you love me too.

Shigaraki (10:05 PM):...Yeah, well, maybe I do. But don’t go telling people, okay? It’ll mess with my reputation.

Y/N can practically hear his grumpy tone through the text. She laughs softly to herself.

Y/N (10:06 PM):Sure thing, my secret’s safe with me. 🤐

A few minutes later…

Y/N (10:15 PM):So, what are you doing right now?

Shigaraki’s typing bubble appears... and then disappears. And reappears. And disappears again. It’s like he’s trying to find the right words, but then he just gives up.

Shigaraki (10:17 PM):I'm staring at my phone like an idiot trying to figure out how to be cool.

Y/N (10:18 PM):Lol, I figured. 😘

Y/N’s phone buzzes again, this time a picture from Shigaraki. It’s a close-up of his face, his eyes wide open and looking like he just saw something extremely awkward.

Shigaraki (10:20 PM):Here. This is how I look when I’m pretending to be cool.

Y/N stares at the picture, blinking a couple of times. Then she bursts out laughing.

Y/N (10:21 PM):YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE ABOUT TO CRY! 😂😭

Shigaraki (10:22 PM):I don’t cry. 😤 sends 3 more pictures of his "cool" face

Y/N (10:23 PM):Shigaraki, this is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever sent me. 🤣

Shigaraki (10:25 PM):I HATE YOU.

Y/N (10:26 PM):No, you don’t. ❤️

And then, of course, Shigaraki would be laying in his bed, facepalming himself for being so cheesy, but also secretly feeling pretty proud because he got her to l

Scene: Shigaraki's Late-Night Texting Spiral

It’s 3 AM. Y/N is minding her own business, scrolling through her phone, when a message from Shigaraki pops up.

Shigaraki (3:00 AM):Why do birds even exist? Like... what's their purpose? 🦅

Y/N (3:01 AM):Uh… to fly?

Shigaraki (3:02 AM):No, not just flying. It’s more than that. They’re always staring at me. Why are they always staring at me? Do they want something from me?

Y/N (3:03 AM):Uhh, I don't think birds want anything from you. They’re probably just... birds.

Shigaraki (3:05 AM):Nah, I swear they’re plotting something. Like, how do they know where I go? Every time I turn around, there’s a bird.

Y/N (3:06 AM):... Are you sure you’re okay? 🤔

Shigaraki (3:07 AM):I’m fine, okay?! You’re just not thinking deep enough about this!

...Another minute passes. Then, a new message arrives.

Shigaraki (3:09 AM):Wait. Did I mean to say they’re stalking me? Why did I say plotting? They can’t plot, right? They have tiny brains. 🧠

Y/N (3:10 AM):I mean, yeah, birds don’t plot things. Maybe you're just tired. 😅

Shigaraki (3:12 AM):No, no! I didn’t mean plotting. I meant... stalking. But I don’t even know if stalking is the right word either... Birds can’t stalk. Right? They’re too small. But I feel like they’re watching me.

Shigaraki (3:14 AM):I mean... maybe they’re just observing? But I don’t know if that makes sense.

At this point, Shigaraki is so deep in this spiraling thought process that he starts trying to explain his own confusion... to himself.

Shigaraki (3:16 AM):Wait, hold on. Birds aren’t even intelligent enough to understand the concept of "stalking." But... what if they can? But no, that doesn’t make sense, because they’re just birds.

Shigaraki (3:18 AM):And if they were stalking me, wouldn’t they be following me around? But they just fly away? That’s not stalking. Maybe I’m just losing my mind.

Y/N is reading this and is now legit concerned, but also kind of trying to hold in laughter.

Y/N (3:20 AM):Babe, I think you’re overthinking this. Maybe the birds are just... birds. And you’re just overthinking it. 😂

Shigaraki (3:22 AM):NO. You’re not understanding! I’m saying they’re not... birds. What if they’re something more? What if they’re spies? You ever think about that?? They’re like... tiny little spies. But... that doesn’t make sense either... unless they’re all connected? 🤯

Y/N (3:24 AM):Wait, are you suggesting that birds are secretly spies? Are we in a bird conspiracy? 🕵️‍♀️🦅

Shigaraki (3:26 AM):...Well, now that you put it that way, it kind of sounds dumb. But... what if it’s true? Birds could be plotting. Wait, no, not plotting—watching. I mean stalking. Ahhh! I don’t know what I mean anymore. This is too much for me.

Shigaraki (3:27 AM):I need to go lie down. Forget I ever said any of this.

Shigaraki stares at his phone in frustration, realizing he’s somehow made everything worse and spiraled into confusion...

Y/N (3:30 AM):Good idea. Rest, babe. You’re clearly not okay. 😜

The next morning, Shigaraki wakes up to a string of messages and facepalms, realizing he accidentally started a "bird conspiracy" with Y/N. He’s probably never going to live that down. 😭