#I'm writing this off as pregnancy brain

[muffinlance]

...Huh. The last chapter of Scaled Over is already totally outlined? I could literally just sit down and finish this?

[hoshigray]

i fucking love ur writing sm mamas!

anyway. Toji making reader pregnant cause toji found out that reader loves kids <33333

It’s fine if you don’t want to. Anyway love you and your writing darling . 🎐

No, noonie, stop bc like, are you in my brain or smthn!!?? I was thinking about this exact prompt for a long while, and I see this appear in my inbox??! Well, well, *cracks knuckles* you've just given me the perfect opportunity mwahahahaha!!! This has been in my drafts for a minute, but I'm glad it's finally done! And omg tysm for loving me and my stuff, honey!! Hope I make ya proud with this one :') ilysm ♡

Also, I'm mixing in another request into this one since it's a pretty small request (reader sucking on Toji's Adam's apple as he pounds you), plus it makes things easier for me in terms of writing out stuff. Hope that's okay with the other requester; if not, my apologies!ヾ(｡﹏｡)ﾉﾞAnd btw, tysm for 1.6k followers, y'all!! Love every single one of you~☆

Cw: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - mating press - Daddy kink - fingering (f! receiving) - breeding - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up!!) - reader skips the pill - fluff at the end bc why not - pregnancy (test at the end) - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', good girl, mama, sweetie) - oral fixation/reader sucking on Toji's adam's apple - the reader has stretch marks on their body bc I said so - praise - overstimulation - clitoral play (sucking & swiping). Wc: 3.4k

Toji, by all means, was not a man deserving of children.

His terrible childhood and upbringing have molded him into an emotionless and reserved person who only feels as though the only person he needs to look out for and care for is himself.

So when the premise of children came to him, he wouldn't give it the time of day. That is until he ends up having youths of his own. Even then, he would do the bare minimum of taking care of them — food, clothes, shelter, and taking or picking them up from school. And to top it off, his job wasn't befitting of a father — a hitman going mission to mission for money that he used to spend for himself, now going to the needs of his kids.

Toji knew Tsumiki and Megumi were better off without a father like him. Fatherhood (or children in general, for that matter) is no easy task, and it's clearly one he's not good at.

But all that changed when you came into the picture.

Never had he seen his kids warm up to someone, an outsider, so quick. Even when he mentioned his children to you at the beginning of your relationship, you didn't falter and happily wished to meet them. And the day you finally did was the day everything became a lot brighter for the entire Fushiguro family.

Not only did Tsumiki and Megumi come to trust you with every visit, but their adoration for you grew tenfold the more you were involved in their lives. And all Toji could do was watch you do your magic, whether it be watching animal documentaries with Megumi, making flower crowns with Tsumiki, or playing with them and the other kids at the nearby park.

And the most impressive part about it all was you teaching and including him in how he could get more involved with his youngsters. Now, his kids are closer to him than ever, going so far as Megumi clapping back on his father's snarky comments and Tsumiki having the man play tea parties (to his dismay, but whatever to makes his little girl happy).

It wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't had you around. You were just such a breath of fresh air to him and any child that came your way. Attentive and caring to the young ones as if you were a natural at mimicking the maternal role. He knew you'd be a great mother to any child, especially your own.

It was that thought alone that made Toji think about you having children. Or better yet, having a child with him. Making you pregnant with his baby. Making you his.

Toji walks down the stairs after putting his son and daughter to bed, his heavy footsteps beating the wooden floor beneath him with every step. He then enters the kitchen area, where he sees you washing the dishes from today's dinner after putting the food in the fridge.

When you notice his presence, you look up and offer a charming smile in his direction, your face illuminated beautifully by the ceiling kitchen lights that the image almost blinds him.

"Hey there." Your voice is always sweet to his ears, still smiling even when you turn back to washing dishes. "The kids?"

"Just finished puttin' 'em to bed," your eyes stay at the sink, but you can feel his heavy footsteps come from beside you. "But they said I suck at tellin' bedtime stories."

Your giggle is heard through the noise of dishes clacking on the rack. "Well, maybe you're not using cartoon voices like I told you to. They like it."

"Yeah, no, I'm not doin' that shit." You chuckle some more at his complaint, and he grabs a dry cloth to dry up dishes from the rack.

It's quiet between you, but Toji will sneak glances at you while you work through the dirty plates. His thoughts from before return, and all he can think about is you with a swollen belly.

The mere idea of having you bear his child fogs his brain. Witnessing your body change and expand with the growth of your little one within you, it's too much for his mind to indulge in.

The more he thinks about it, the crazier and hornier his mind goes. Unable to function suitably, Toji sighs heavily through his nose and places the dish and dry cloth on the countertop.

You notice him make his way behind you, his hands traveling down to your hips as his chin rests atop your head. But you pay him no mind and continue with your task. "Hey, darlin'."

The nickname has you hum to him, eyes focused on the soapy sponge and plate in your hands while your ears wait for him to continue. "Yes, Toji?"

He doesn't reply instantly, roaming his large palms up and down your waist and hips instead. "Ya know I love the hell outta you, right?" He goes on when you nod. "Always takin' care of me and lovin' me. But that love also goes to my lil squirts." A smile creeps in on his scarred lips as you giggle at his way of referring to his children. "It's just crazy to me how you're able to have 'em follow y'r every step, yet I can't even get a hug or smile before they leave for school unless I remind them."

"Well, maybe if their father didn't always bully and call them 'squirts' and 'brats' all day, they would show you some love."

"Shut up," Toji flicks water from the faucet onto your face, forcing you to laugh more from your teasing. His heart swoons from your laughter, having you sway side to side with his body behind you. "But I mean it; you're so good with kids. Makes me wonder how come you never had y'r own yet."

"I just love kids." It was a simple answer. "Plus, I never really had time to care for a child. Got work and stuff, you know. And besides, I practically treat Tsumiki and Megumi like my kids."

"Mmm," he replies aimlessly.

"However," you resume while placing a wet bowl on the rack. "I wouldn't mind having a little one of my own. Now that I'm pretty comfortable with where I'm at in life, I'd love to have a little baby to share it with."

Toji lets your words sink in before saying anything. Now that he sees where you stand on the topic, finally, he can voice his opinion.

"Y/n..." he treads carefully with the words he's about to say. "I've been thinkin' about somethin'."

"Thinking about what?" You can't deny the uneasy atmosphere with Toji's mysteriousness, yet you listen as you turn off the sink faucet.

The two of you stop swaying your bodies with each other. "How 'bout we have a baby?"

Your body goes rigid at the question, and breathing subsides as your mind goes rampant with reflections too fast to comprehend. He wants a child—another child!? With me??!

"Like, right now?" The only question that escaped your lips, your voice hushed to a whisper. No one else is here in the space but you two, although the talk you're having right now feels virtually forbidden to the tongue.

"Doesn't have to be right now," Toji moves his head to your shoulder, his hushed, gruff voice clear to your ears. "But as long as it's with you, one more kid won't hurt, right?"

And your breath hitches when a hand finds its way to the surface of your stomach, his fingers lightly teasing with the flesh of your abdomen. He places his lips on your neck, and you bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. "Mmmm, why do you want more?" You still press him with questions despite almost dissolving into his kisses. "You already have a gorgeous girl—"

"I wan' have your girl." He murmurs softly to your ear before lightly biting the lobe, and a moan slips past you.

"A-And...a beautiful boy..."

"I want your boy."

"Toji, please," you surprise the older man by turning your body to face him fully, eyes surveying his. "This is no joke! Just because I don't have my own kid doesn't mean—"

You're silenced when Toji brings a hand to your cheek, cupping a side of your face. "I'm not jokin', sweetie. I know I'm not the best dad in the world — hell, I'm pretty lousy at it. But you," he leans forward while you instinctively go backward, hitting the sink behind you. "You're basically a mother to mine and a real damn good one, too. And since ya said things are good now, why don't I make you a parent fr' real."

"Toji—"

"Like I said: it doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. But as long as it's you," his thumb brushes your cheek as he looks deep into your eyes. "Let me give ya a baby, angel."

All you can do is look into his emerald orbs that examine you for a response. The silence between you two is accompanied by the ticking sounds of the clock on the kitchen wall. And after a few seconds, you sigh and place a hand on the big one caressing your cheek.

"If I say yes," your reply has his brows lifted. "Will you give me foot massages and a bowl of ramen at three in the morning and not be a bitch about it when I ask?"

Toji gives you a smile, his scarred lip tugged upwards. And you return one to him as he kisses your forehead.

"Works fr' me."

This is how the two of you end up in the bedroom; the ceiling lights toned down to a low shade, clothes discarded on the cold wooden floor, and the sound of lips smacking fills the silence.

"Mmmm, Daddy..." You whimper through the kisses, your hands find purchase on his strong shoulders, and you yelp when he bites your lip. His lips gradually embark downwards to your neck clavicle. Kisses and light suck to your nipples make you hum in pleasure, and a gasp prompts out when his teeth graze the bud of your soft mounds.

A hand sneaks between your legs and nestles in between the lips of your southern entrance, his big fingers enter inside with the use of the soapy fluid of your cunt, and you wail from the contact while he sucks on your breast.

"Such a good girl, angel." He lets go of your nipple to coax you, his mouth sucking your skin as his mouth continues its journey south. More licks on your body feel hot, kisses placed on every stretch mark he comes across. And he stops when he passes your tummy, coming up to see the view of his digits pushing to and fro inside your leaking chasm. "My fingers feelin' good, mama?"

"Yesssss," you hiss, eyes sewn shut to concentrate on the pleasurable sensation in your slit. He chuckles at your delighted expression before he leans down to suck on your clit, earning a shriek from your puffy lips. "Stoooop, I-I'm too sensitive—Ahhaaaannn!!"

He releases your tender bud from his mouth after placing a chaste kiss on it. "Sorry, baby, gotta have you nice and wet fr' me." He sucks and laps around on your wetness for a few more minutes before withdrawing his mouth from your leaky chasm, substituting his tongue with his big fingers to swipe on your clitoris. Broken sobs seep out from you. "Cummin' on my fingers and tongue, that's my girl."

The throbbing commotion between your legs has your ears ringing and your head pulsing. You've already come three times for thirty minutes. He's such a greedy man, but whatever it takes for you to prep for him.

Speaking of which, Toji props your legs onto his shoulders while aligning his cock to your folds, lathering the girth with your juices. Your heart beats irregularly with anticipation on the rise, a position you're all too familiar with. Toji sees you gawking at his glans kissing your folds, and he sneers salaciously. "Ready, sweetie?"

You give him a smile even through entering your lustful haze. "Skipped the pill and everything, Daddy." And with a kiss on your cheek, Toji wastes no time and pushes his length into you with every inhale you take. And the both of you moan when the cockhead slides right into your vulva. Every inch of his dick descends into you, making you full of his size, and whimpers fail to be suppressed as he scrapes your velvety walls deliciously.

After letting you adapt to him, his hips start with a slow rhythm for you to properly situate yourself with the mating press. However, with how you're gripping around him, it doesn't take long for him to quicken his pace. Soft wails soon become stifled squeals with the bite of your lips from the growing cadence, and your eyes begin to water when the underside of his shaft grazes your inner walls.

But when the tip of his cock finally touches your cervix, a choked scream sneaks past your restraint. And Toji chortles. "Mmmmm, that's what I wanna hear." He grinds his pelvis deep into your cunt, resulting in forced squeaks from your tongue.

"Ahhhnnn! Daddy, please—Oh, Jesus," It hurts to think when Toji accurately jabs your delicate cervix, tears streaming down your pretty cheeks. "Oh, God, it's too much, too mu—Oooohh!!"

"I know, darlin', I know." He comes down to your face, yet his pace does not falter. His speed increases and becomes harsher by the second, and your head pounds hard with every rut. You nibble on his neck, sucking on his Adam's apple as he drills his dick into you. "Nnnngh, so tight on me, mama. Gonna make me go crazy."

As if he wasn't going crazier already with the erratic rut of his hips. Driving his cock deep inside and the sound of his balls smacking your folds is all you can hear. Your face is now entirely hot, matching the tingling sensation of skin slapped together between your legs. You dare to peek down to see the union of your sexes, Toji's member now harboring a white ring near the base. Strings of your slick and his spit keep you two connected during this moment, and more incoherent shrieks are pulled from your throat.

"Nnnaaaaa, ahhhaaaa!!! D-Daddy, please!!" While there's uncertainty about whether your pleas will be heard, you still express yourself to him. "It's coming, it's coming! I'm gonna cum, gonna cummmm!! Nnnmmph!!" And when he comes down to you with his complete weight caging you in, the pressure of his body has you submit to him completely.

"Yeah, wanna cum on Daddy's dick." He says with his condescending, guttural tone that almost makes you melt onto the satin sheets beneath you. "G' ahead, mama—Hmmph! Make a nice mess while I finish here..." His strokes become ever intenser than before; his length brushes your inner walls, and continuous pokes to your cervix prompt your orgasm to climb faster. And you soon fall into a wave of pure ecstasy, your cunt clamping around him desperately while your body trembles.

And Toji is forced to fall into a release of his own when the walls of your slit contract around him, spilling into you with the flex of his abdomen. His sweaty body is on top of yours, and your breathing matches his as you two experience each crescendo.

Heavy exhales sync as you two calm down within your intimate embrace. Your mind slowly returns from its foggy state with the calm atmosphere soothing your body, and your quivers now subsided while the older man lays kisses and sucks on your neck. But it comes to a halt when a sudden yelp comes from your swollen lips because he thrusts into you again, even with your vulva being extremely sensitive.

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, and it's not to your surprise that he has a smirk on that dumb, handsome face of his. His lips curled to where his teeth peek from under his scar. "Ya know I gotta fuck you more than once, right, sweetie? Make sure you're all filled up 'n all."

You suck your teeth with furrowed brows, but a smile comes up with breathless giggles. "I'm telling you, Mr. Fushiguro, you're most definitely treating me to daily foot massages when I get pregnant."

"Whatever you say," he shuts your threats with a kiss on your soft lips. "My pretty darlin'..."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Toji twiddles with something in his hand while you lay on his chest in the shared bedroom. The kids were taking a nap after coming from school, leaving the two of you to enjoy the leisure of each other's company.

But today was a different day compared to any other. Because even if you two are looking at the television with the old rom-com displayed, neither of you is actually watching. Too busy distracted with the smiles plastered on your faces to care for what's on the screen. The only thing corrupting your minds is a matter that has you two in glee after a week of anticipation and mutual work.

The man peers at his hand to look at the object between Toji's fingers. Nothing but a pink and white stick — a pregnancy test. And at the center of the device conveyed two red lines, the signature implication that you were indeed with a child. His child.

"Hey, Toji," the call of his name has him look down at you, still facing the television despite your attention not wholly on it. "What do you think they are?"

"Hmm?" It takes a few seconds for it to click until he notices your hand brushing around your belly. He chuckles. "I'm hopin' for a girl. Wan' 'em to look and act like you."

You hum aimlessly at his answer before you berate him with more of your thoughts. "What if it's a boy? I think it'd be cute to have another mini-you running around the house."

"Nah, one mini-me is enough, and he already talks back to me like he's a teen." You giggle at the light sour face he shows and his complaints about Megumi. "Besides, I don't want another me. I'm already a lousy dad, and I didn't have the best childhood. I wouldn't want you to deal with a child that's exactly like me..."

Silence ensues with the answer; it's the only response you deem appropriate. That was the case until you say what was next on your mind.

"Toji, I'm sure your upbringing wasn't the best because people weren't there for you when you needed them. And although that's shaped you into the man I love, even I wouldn't want you to go through all that for a second time." You can feel the weight of his green eyes on you while you speak, though you don't turn to face him. "Nevertheless, times are different. You have me to love and care for you now—you and your beautiful children. You might not be the best dad in the world, but you've done a great job taking care of them."

"Thanks to you." He interrupts you, and you laugh.

"Yes, thanks to me. And because you have me, this little one won't be going through what you went through. I promise you, you're not alone in this. Because I'm pretty scared as this is my first pregnancy. But that's okay since I have you to take care of me. I'll be there to help you, and you'll be there to help me. As long as that's true, we'll do just fine."

Taken aback by your response, the older man turns to the pregnancy test still in his hand. The more he looks at the device, the more he ponders what you said. And a small smile creeps up on him, coming to a decision himself. At this point, it doesn't matter what the sex of the child will be to him. What warms his heart is that you promise to be by his side, helping him watch your little one — his child — his family grow as the days and years pass.

"Now," your voice brings him back to the present, whipping his head back to you. "I can't say the same if we end up with twins. Because you'll just have to deal with one while I have the other."

Toji puts the pregnancy test on the nightstand and goes for your nose to pinch it. "Fuckin' kid, who told you were funny, huh?" Your laughter only fuels him to mess with you more, but that's okay. He's smiling at your silliness, and that's all you want right now.

Because, even if they're not here yet, no child should have a father who doesn't know how to smile.

[bunny-jpeg]

hi bunny! i was wondering if you got an order for sourdough bread and blueberry muffins with a side of hard lemonade for toto? i think tumblr has been eating my asks! but if you did already get it ignore this!! love the writing and i loved the past two toto works 🫶🏻🫶🏻🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

bakery menu

want to submit your own orders? then check out the menu! there are tons of things to order and various wonderful servers. i do fandoms beyond f1 if something else strikes your fancy! as for this one, i see what your brain is cooking and i'm so sorry that your original order got eaten by the monster in my inbox! but thankfully this got through and i love the combination! i have grown a fondness for toto as i am part of a discord with other amazing people that's focused on him <3

sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served by toto wolff (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20/50), wife!reader, breeding kink, size kink (duh), pregnancy, missionary position

toto found your antics amusing. he knew it was just the kind of person you were. you were raised in a household where hugging and kissing on the cheek were normal! toto wasn't going to get mad at you because you were more touch-y feel-y than most.

he found it cute, because you were always so affectionate towards him. you constantly wanted kiss and toto's arm around you. you want to bury into his chest and make a home out of there. you wanted to be close to him.

it wasn't you he didn't trust. it was men.

it was a hands-y mechanic at a party. he was closer to your age and made you laugh, which only left a surge of jealousy in your husband's chest. the mechanic seemed new. so he probably didn't know that you were toto's wife.

you chatted with him happily and toto felt the jealousy surge up further. he finished the drink in his hand before he put the glass down and went to 'rescue' his wife.

"schatzi." toto said, putting on his best smile. he didn't want to scare off the mechanic. he came up to you and placed his hand on your lower back. the size difference was noticable.

you were toto's little wife, you looked up at him and smiled, "ah, honey! this is the new mechanic!"

toto smiled back at you, "i know, my love." he looked at the mechanic and raised his eyebrows, "i know you'll be a great addition to the team this season. it is lovely to finally meet you. this is my wife." he said bluntly, "mrs. wolff."

you perked up, "oh my god, i'm so sorry! i only introduced myself as my first name. this is my husband!"

the new guy's eyes went wide for a moment before he said, "oh... i see." he then cleared his throat, "um, i'll be right back then!" then swiftly left the situation.

you frowned a little and said, "i wonder what that was about." you looked up at your husband, "he seemed scared."

he rubbed the top of your head before he leaned in and kissed you on the apple of your cheek, "mm, i don't think so, schatzi. why don't we go find george and lily?" two people that toto could trust.

-

that evening, toto made sure to show his wife how much he loved you. those large hands on your behind as he got you up onto the shared bed you have. he watched you get out of the dress, exposing your body to him.

your nude form was for his eyes only.

the glittery gold ring on your left hand was evidence of that. your pretty signature with the last name 'wolff' was another. he could get lost in your beauty as he yearned for you. it was a deep throb in his chest at the sight of you.

the pretty nude colour bra and the bright yellow panties you wore. both looked perfect on your skin. and only made toto undress faster, he didn't want to keep mrs. wolff waiting.

he got his button-up onto the floor, and the undershirt. you rubbed your soft thighs together and he drank in the sight of you.

"a woman like you should be illegal. i'm worried if you get more beautiful, my love." he got onto the bed and took off the undershirt, "i'd have to lock you away."

he said it almost jokingly. he trusted you of course, it was other men that couldn't be trusted.

you giggled and took his belt off. the leather felt expensive in your hands. it soon was on the bed and toto quickly got undressed as well before he was on top of you. his hands on your panties before he showed them down your thighs.

"i'm going to breed you." he said softly, "i want to see you with my child. a proper mother." his nose was up against your jaw, he could feel your pulse as it quickened.

your core got hotter as you struggled to get your bra off. you replied, "then come on now, my dear husband." you took him by the face to meet your gaze, "let's make a baby."

he thought the wind was knocked out of him for a moment before he grabbed a hold of your bra and got it off your body, leaving you fully naked to him. he got on his knees with your legs wrapped around his waist.

a heated part of him wanted to fuck you the old fashioned way. on your back so he could admire every inch of your skin.

"but, i don't think it'll fit." you remarked with a slight giggle.

he replied with a smile, he looked handsome as always. "oh don't worry, schatzi. it'll fit." toto was a big man all over. big hands meant two things, one of those things was that his the tip of his cock was familiar with the beginning of your cervix.

and that he easily bruised your poor sweet hole.

but, since you two got married. it had been easier for him to fuck you, to sink inside of you. to feel you inside and out. but now with you under him, he slowly got his cock into you. one hand on your hip and one around his cock.

he got it all the way to the root and then had both hands on your soft hips. you were beautiful under him, your breath hitched and it made toto's cock twitched.

the beautiful, amazing mrs. toto wolff.

he started to move against you. his hands felt so large on your hips as he moved against you. he hunched over you to admire every inch of your heated skin. he could feel the praise bubble up in his throat.

no mechanic, no driver, no man was going to take you from him. he made a promise to love you for all of your days. and he was expecting for that to last for many years.

you held onto the covers under you and let him move your body back and forth. the stretch felt good. you remembered the days when you'd be bruised for a few days afterwards.

"i want you to have my children, schatzi." he said with a softness in his voice. the pleasure raced up his spine as he continued to move against you. you felt perfect to him, like a dream come true.

you moaned a little louder, in the comfort of your shared bedroom. husband and wife tangled up in one another. you placed your hands onto his chest as he continued to rut against you.

his cock hit all the right areas, it made you feel flushed at it all. it was a heated feeling throughout your body.

you tried to meet his pace, but everything felt so much. your heart was racing and you could feel it in your gut. you moaned a little louder, "please honey."

he continued to work your pussy, making sure that you felt good. how could he not want that? you were his wife. not that little mechanic's wife. you were his.

"i know, angel." he said softly, "i'll make you feel good." he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. such a delicate thing under his touch, he could feel the fire in his stomach as he moved against you.

the most perfect living thing. to have sex with you was a feeling that excited toto. to have you anyway he could. he pleasure you as much as you pleasured him.

you were his heart, the thing that kept it beating. to keep going, to keep winning.

you whimpers were cute, you were close. and toto continued to make love to you.

"toto."

"i have you, my love."

you clutched onto the covers under you. your back arched at the intensity as you came around his cock. you whined a little bit and tensed up. toto took this as a chance to pick up the pace and really work his dick into you. he came soon after and made sure to get himself in as deep as it would go.

he was trying to get his wife pregnant after all. a few hard thrusts and his cum drooled into the back of your womb. a good sign if all goes well. toto felt flushed, the sweat down his back as he eyed his beautiful wife.

no mechanic cane get too hands-y if there was a proper baby bump in the way. a sign that toto had staked claim of you as if the ring he bought you wasn't enough. plus, you'd make a beautiful mother.

he pulled out of you and curled up against your stomach. he rubbed soft circles and stayed close to you. he was breathing heavily as were you.

"my beautiful wife." he said as he kissed your stomach.

-

you were all smiles at the party toto threw months later as a way to socialize for the upcoming crew of mercedes. to start out on the right foot. a promise of a good season.

even now, six months pregnant with your first child. you were still all smiles and laughter. instead of a glass of wine, you had been pouring yourself sparkling water to still be part of the celebrations. the dress you wore highlighted your rounded middle.

but now that you were pregnant, toto had to keep a close eye on you. your center of gravity had been all screwed up since your belly sprouted. he didn't need his wife taking a tumble.

he easily caught the sight of you waving hello to the mechanic from last year and giving him a big hug. he also noticed that the mechanic's hand was a little to close to your behind for toto's liking.

if it wasn't glaringly obvious that you were taken already, give the ring, the house and now the baby. he knew he was going to have to talk to the other man before the season started.

toto didn't mind that you were the type of person who loved a good hub, it was who you were! but, it was toto's job as your husband to make sure that you remained safe. <3

[luvt0kki]

closer | j.w.y

pairing: foxhybrid!Wooyoung x f!reader ( ft. husband!Hongjoong)

♡₊˚ inspired by one of my fave fics by @kitten4sannie ( Spilled Milk is an all time favourite of mine, hybrid!woo is so hard not to write about)

summary: It was supposed to be just for a while but even then, when your next-door neighbor had asked you and your husband to look after his fox hybrid, Wooyoung, you had found yourself being fond of his red fluffy fox ears and his playfulness. But when your neighbor got a better job opportunity abroad, you and your husband weren’t able to say no to letting the lovable and loyal hybrid into your home and your lives. The thing is, this fox hybrid was particularly fond of his new owners wife. He couldn’t help it.

wc: 10.5k (kinda proofread but too many words brain hort, sorry for errors :< )

cw: hybrid AU, smut, foxhybrid!wooyoung, afab and wife!reader, pregnancy, mommy kink, dubcon-ish ( consent is very important guys), lactation kink, cream pie ( wrap it before you tap it please), husband!Hongjoong, breeding kink, somnophillia, subby!Woo, pregnancy hormones, Woo goes into rut, handjob, fingering, cunnilingus, oral, dom!hongjoong ( cause yes)

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: hello so it’s been awhile! This is definitely not one of my best works but I had brainrot...l I'm not yet fully back but will slowly post from time to time. I know this is a random post that's not related to trainings wheels or swm but ahh I just really wanted to write this. I hope you guys will enjoy this as it was something I wanted to write to take a break from sway with me. This took me 3 months since I was so busy. sorry for being ia guys! I'm still here I swear!

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

It was supposed to be temporary.

It was supposed to be just for a while but even then, when your next-door neighbor had asked you and your husband to look after his fox hybrid, Wooyoung, you had found yourself being fond of his red fluffy fox ears and his playfulness. You were okay with having Wooyoung around for a month and having him stay with you for when his owner was away for business trips. But then when your neighbor had gotten a better job opportunity abroad and had asked you and Hongjoong to take in his loyal friend and hybrid, you had found yourself reluctant but it was so hard to say no when Wooyoung himself had said that he’d want to be with you and your husband.

Eventually, Wooyoung was fully moved in and slowly became a part of your and Hongjoong’s lives, forming a little unit.

At-home movie nights with your husband now included the energetic and affectionate hybrid, walks in the park too, and even though he had his own room, he would sometimes sneak into the master bedroom to lie next to you, sandwiching you between him and Hongjoong. In fact, it was your husband who was more than happy to take in Wooyoung so that you wouldn’t be alone when he’s at work and that you’d have a companion for when you go out.

“I swear, I think he likes you more than me.” Hongjoong chuckled as he was fixing his tie.

“I’m sure he loves us both equally, Joong.” You told him, still on the bed and watching him get ready to go to work.

“I’d beg to differ, darling. He’s more clingy with you.” Hongjoong met your eyes through the mirror. “More touchy too.”

“He’s very affectionate and he loves getting scratched behind his cute ears.”

You still didn’t believe that Wooyoung had favorites.

Throwing off the covers and getting up, you began to make the bed, unaware of your husband’s wandering eyes drinking in your form in your silk lingerie sleepwear. The camisole top and short shorts were a new set he hasn’t seen before til last night when you got into bed after he had fucked you into the mattress, a cute moaning mess beneath him.

“But you’re less lonely with him around right?” He asked, continuing to ogle his darling wife.

“I guess I am…”

“And I’m a little jealous he gets to spend all day with you.” Hongjoong walked over to you, standing behind you as you were slightly bent over readjusting the comforter and pillows. He gripped your hips and pulled your ass against his groin so suddenly. “Maybe he’s so affectionate with you because he likes you?”

“Joong!” You squeaked at the sudden tug at your hips, your body growing warm the moment he pressed you against him. “Y-you’re being silly!”

“Am I?” He smirked, enjoying your fluster and meek movements to stop him from getting handsy. “He’s a male fox hybrid, darling. He doesn’t even have other female hybrid friends and even when he sees one, he’s disinterested. I think…,” he wrapped his arm around your waist pressing your back against his body while his other hand groped the flesh of your ass. “Our Wooyoungie has a crush on mommy.”

Your face flushed at the way his voice dipped when he said that.

“J-joong you need to go to work,” you stifled a moan when he grabbed your breast and gave it a teasing squeeze. “D-don’t want you to be late.”

“Mhm…” he hummed against your ear, unable to keep his hands off of you, a hand snaking its way into your shorts, happy to find that you weren’t wearing any panties. “I think I can make my wife cum once before I leave without getting late.”

Hongjoong’s desire to touch you this early in the morning only grew the moment his fingers dipped between your slit to find that you were already wet and ready for him. Oh, how he loved the way your body reacted to him.

“Plus, the more we do it. The higher the chances of us having a baby, right?” He began to kiss and suck at that sensitive spot on your neck, your hips grinding down into his hand on their own.

Wooyoung had fallen asleep on the couch last night and had woken up wrapped in his favorite blanket that you had gotten him when you and Hongjoong decided to take him into your shared home and lives. He rubbed his eyes as he saw Hongjoong walk out of the hall, slipping on his blazer with his briefcase in one hand.

“Morning, Woo.” Hongjoong smiled at him, the nickname making his fox ears perk up. “Behave while I’m at work, okay?”

Wooyoung with sleep in his eyes, nodded.

“As usual, take care of Y/N too. Don’t give her too much trouble.”

He nodded again, watching the man grab the keys to his car and check himself in the mirror by the apartment door.

Wooyoung’s nose twitched as he came to his senses, noticing that your scent was all over Hongjoong this morning. His ears dropped as he knew what that meant…he wasn’t dumb. Was it silly that he had a crush on you? Did Hongjoong know he did?

Before Hongjoong left, he gave Wooyoung a gentle pat on the head and said, “I’ll be home later.”

Back then he didn’t like it when you and Hongjoong were apart. It had felt like the newfound connection he had with the two of you was incomplete but now he didn’t mind it at all, especially since he spent more time with you and had a preference for you. His hybrid instincts saw Hongjoong as the disciplinary figure and a provider for you and him while you were the figure of nurture and love. You were the one he could cuddle and snuggle to, the one whom he could get physical affection from. He wasn’t sure when his crush on you started but he believed it was when his former owner left him under your and Hongjoong’s care for the first time.

Getting up, he padded his way to the master bedroom, your scent becoming stronger and stronger as he neared.

He peeked his head by the open door, not wanting to disturb you if you were doing anything like your morning skincare routine or getting dressed. His fox ears dropped a little as he saw that the bed was unmade and you were lying down, under the comforter, asleep.

Were you not feeling well?

Wooyoung quietly moved closer and carefully knelt on the bed, his knee dipping into the mattress. He glanced at your peacefully sleeping face, making sure he hadn’t disturbed you before continuing to crawl next to you, wanting to be close.

Gently taking your hand that was on your stomach, he laid his head there and placed it on his head, near his fox ears, letting you know somehow that he was with you.

“Mhm…” the soft hum came from you and Wooyoung's ears twitched excitedly at the sound. When he felt your fingers brush against his ears, a shiver went down his spine and he couldn’t stop the way his head rubbed on your tummy. “Good morning, Woo.” You greeted him sleepily, feeling his soft furry ears and beginning to languidly play with his hair and scratch that spot behind his ear that made his bushy and fluffy red tail wag uncontrollably.

“Morning…” Wooyoung softly smiled to himself, enjoying your touch and your warmth. He could smell Hongjoong’s scent off of you…the mixed scent of you and him that he’d get a whiff of when he woke up in the middle of the night and heard muffled moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin.

Wooyoung wanted to scent you too…

“Thank you for the blanket.” Wooyoung purred, enjoying the way you caressed and touched him.

If he asked would you let him?

“Didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully but I didn’t want you to get cold.” You chuckled. “You didn’t feel cold?”

Wooyoung shook his head.

“That’s good.”

A beat of silence passed and Wooyoung couldn’t help but say…

“I can smell Hongjoong all over you…are you still trying for a baby?”

His question made heat bloom in your cheeks and your eyes fluttered open, seeing the top of Wooyoung’s bright red hair and his pretty pointed fox ears.

“Y-yeah…we’re still trying…. it's been three months since…I haven’t taken a pregnancy test yet though.”

Wooyoung could tell you were anxious. “But you’re starting to smell different lately…still you but more sweet. Like candy!” His ears perked up and you couldn’t help but giggle at how adorable the handsome hybrid was. “Maybe there’s a baby already.”

“Well, I’ll just have to muster the courage to take a test soon.”

Wooyoung nodded.

The two of you cuddled and basked in the slow morning of that day. The fox hybrid was burrowing feelings of envy that Hongjoong was going to have a baby with you…his sense of smell doesn’t lie. If a baby came into the picture, what of him then? Usually, most hybrids are given up because a baby has entered their owners' lives…will you give him up too?

Wooyoung tried to ignore those feelings of abandonment, telling himself that you would never let him go, and went about the day as usual. He accompanied you to the grocery store and helped around in the kitchen, you’d lightly smack his hand when he would try to steal the chocolate chips you were putting in the cookie batter.

A week passed and the particular day where you and Hongjoong were both out and he was left alone in the apartment, was the day that you had found out that you were pregnant. The two of you returned and happily shared the news with him, and Wooyoung was genuinely happy for both of you as well as a little scared for what the future holds.

One sunset evening, you were snuggled into Hongjoong’s side watching a movie while Wooyoung had his head on your lap. The movie wasn’t anything serious, it was light-hearted and romantic. Wooyoung didn’t really pay attention because he was enjoying the way you were playing with his hair and caressing his fox ears.

“Oh, Woo, I forgot to ask…Seonghwa reminded me to ask you if you have a mate? Apparently, you’ll be going into a rut soon.” Hongjoong spoke nonchalantly.

Wooyoung’s cheeks grew hot at the question. “N-no I don’t have a mate…”

“And your rut?”

He snuggled closer to you. “…it’s soon.”

“We never got to take care of him when he goes through that…” you had softly said to Hongjoong, not having had the experience of dealing with Wooyoung’s rut ever because he was with his former owner then. “He has socialized with other hybrids though…all his friends are male hybrids…Wooyoung was there a hybrid you fancy?”

Wooyoung didn’t know where his bratty attitude arose from but it showed.

“Don’t want a mate.” He huffed, pouting and throwing a little fit.

“But what then when you go into a rut?” Hongjoong made his voice a little firmer, not liking the hybrid’s reaction when he was speaking of something serious.

“I’ll handle it on my own,” he huffed, brows knitted and glaring at Hongjoong through his lashes. “I. Don’t. Want. A. Mate.”

“J-joong,” your voice came like a saving grace. “Let’s not force, Woo, if he’s not okay with it.” You said, soothing Wooyoung with scratches behind his ears making his frustration simmer down immediately. “If he says he can handle it let’s trust him, okay?”

Hongjoong looked at you, unsure and hesitant. As much as he would like this recurring period for Wooyoung to be handled in the best possible way and less of a hassle for you and him, he was weak to your words.

Wooyoung waited with bated breath for Hongjoong’s response, his fear and anxiety slowly bubbling in his chest as the next solution to a hybrid without a mate, was a hotel-like establishment purely for hybrids in heat or a rut. He didn’t want to go there, he didn’t want to be away from home, from you.

“I guess we can observe him when he does go into a rut and make sure he goes through it safely.”

Wooyoung broke into a grin and nuzzled in his cheek on your tummy, the warmth of your body and sweet scent making him feel warm. He didn’t want a mate…he’d rather be close to you.

“How did you handle it before Woo?” You asked the handsome hybrid that was so clingy and affectionate today.

“Hmmm…I just let it pass. Lock myself in a room for two days or three.”

Wooyoung watched your eyes soften at his response, your gaze and pity making his tail wag a little.

“And it works?” Your lips were pouting as you continued to pet him.

Wooyoung nodded, eyes closing in bliss at your touch, his tail making a big swoop.

“Hey!” Hongjoong blurted out as the bushy red tail whacked him in the face.

Wooyoung’s ears flattened at Hongjoong’s tone but it lifted at the soothing sound of your careless and mirthful laughter.

“Awe, Joongie.” You cooed at your husband, reaching out to caress his cheek.

“My bad.” Wooyoung shrugged with a smile, looking at the two treasured people in his life, Hongjoong unable to break into a smile at the moment between the three of you.

“You two enjoy teasing me,” Hongjoong kissed your cheek and patted Wooyoung’s head.

“Oh, you love us.” You giggled, giving Wooyoung a kiss on the forehead after Hongjoong’s kiss.

As weeks passed since the confirmation and announcement of your pregnancy, you entered your second trimester, Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice how much sweeter your scent had become and when he watched you move around the house, his eyes would stare at the hint of a bump at your tummy.

Hongjoong on the other hand, had become more busy at work and being editor in chief for one of the top fashion magazines in the country, it ate up his time. The new summer line of many brands was to be released soon and while those brands begged for a feature on the magazine, Hongjoong would sigh in his office wishing he was with you instead. So, Wooyoung had to get used to the new system here in the household for when Hongjoong was away, it was his job to protect you and watch over you.

The summer heat had already begun to warm the atmosphere even more and Wooyoung could feel his senses sharpen. His watchful eyes grew even more alert as he looked after you while Hongjoong was away.

Every chore, movement, or even when you were just napping, he was there.

Today though, when you moved around in the kitchen with the tempting decadent smell of cookies baking in the oven wafting throughout the whole apartment, he noticed you wince a little bit as you just put the second batch of cookies in the oven.

Wooyoung’s ears perked up at the sight of you in mild discomfort and he leaned forward a bit in his seat on one of the stools by the kitchen island. He didn’t move yet not until he was sure you needed him.

“A-are you okay?” He asked.

You looked at him and smiled through your discomfort. “Just a little achy.”

“That’s not good right?” His brows furrowed.

“N-no, it’s expected. I’m in my second trimester, and my breasts are sore…my doctor said it’s because I’m going to start producing milk.”

Wooyoung blushed as his eyes fell upon your breasts hugged by the cute white summer dress you decided to wear today. Milk? From your...

“O-oh,” he looked away, feeling heat pool at his belly at the curve and plumpness of your chest that had actually gotten a bit fuller in size. “It hurts?”

“Just a little, but it’s nothing to worry about, Woo.”

The fox hybrid let it slide but still kept an eye on you.

As the day progressed, he felt clingier and more protective. The need to be with you was stronger than ever and the other feeling…the other feeling that was telling him to lock himself in his room was creeping up on him too.

It was only Monday…he had hoped that when he had to isolate it’d be during the weekend when Hongjoong was around. He needed to be around you even more so since you were carrying a baby…he needed to be around you because you’re smelling sweeter and sweeter each day since the start of your pregnancy. Sweeter than all the treats you baked out of the blue.

That evening, as you got ready for bed after Hongjoong had called and said that he’d be home really late so he didn’t want you to stay up and wait for him, Wooyoung was debating if it was safe for him to be around you.

You offered that he’d sleep with you on the bed but he said he wanted to watch something on the TV so he’d fall asleep on the sofa tonight. You only gave him a smile and a quick kiss goodnight on the forehead before heading to the master bedroom.

Wooyoung didn’t wrap himself in his favorite blanket. His skin was warmer than usual as his eyes were staring at the little light that leaked from the bottom of the master bedroom door. The sounds from the TV were background noise as he focused on hearing above it, just in case you needed him.

A little wince from you had him on his feet. Then a soft whimper had him quietly stepping towards the room. Were you in pain? The door was left slightly ajar. You always kept it this way when it was just you and him so that he wouldn’t feel like he was intruding if he wanted to be near you.

He peered through the little gap in the door with one eye, blinking and trying to find your presence in the room curiously.

You softly cursed to yourself, and sat up on the bed, the wet patches on your pajama camisole sticking uncomfortably to your skin. “W-what do I do…” you had murmured to yourself as you stared down at your breasts that had been aching and swollen lately.

Wooyoung’s eyes closed as a new scent reached his nose. It was like milk…but sweeter. He felt his mouth salivate at the smell before his eyes opened to look for the source, gulping when he found it.

With the duvet up to your lap, you were sat on the bed with a towel dabbing at the silk camisole that had dampened patches…the fabric sticking to the swell and curves of your breasts, and your nipples poking through.

“This…it’s too early…,” you mumbled as you wondered if massaging your breasts would help with the ache. Your doctor mentioned that breast milk leaking was normal and that as long as there was no blood, it was all good but…the wet sticky mess it left was a handful.

You cupped your right breast and gently massaged it, sighing as it relieved some of the pain. Wooyoung gulped when he saw this, heat going straight down to his cock that slowly stiffened the more he smelled that rich sweet scent and watched you massage your breasts.

He kept his silence, his tail swaying side to side slowly as he watched you change into a new set of pajamas then laid down in bed again to try to sleep. You switched off the lamp on your nightstand and Wooyoung couldn’t help but slip inside the room.

He just wanted to get closer to your sweet scent and cuddle. Cuddle and snuggle like he does when Hongjoong comes home late or when he’s away on a business trip.

Wooyoung took Hongjoong’s empty spot on the bed, gazing at you as you slept. Your new pink camisole hugged your breasts and tummy, showing off that little baby bump that was growing slowly with each month that passed. As he lay on his side, his eyes took in your peacefully sleeping expression before they were drawn to your breasts.

He began to salivate again and his cock which had been hard since he was peeking through the door, ached even more. He could feel his rut looming over him like a dark cloud…and even though he was lying still, his tail restlessly snapped up and down.

But he didn’t want to disrespect you. He loved you too much to act on any of the dirty thoughts in his head…to act on his crush on you that didn’t want him to have or find a mate.

So he forced his eyes closed and tried to focus on the sound of your even breathing, trying to imitate it so that he too could calm down and avoid the itch to touch you and be closer to you. He didn’t want to slip up when his rut came then make Hongjoong decide that he’ll be sent to one of those hotels.

Wooyoung thought he could manage. He really did. He had gone through his ruts before all alone…but this time it was difficult.

Something was different. He didn’t even think it’d be a big factor that would affect his rut. What made a difference was that you were a constant presence in his life now and in the long run too. He’s never had a rut around the opposite sex…even if you weren’t a hybrid, you had this sweet, comforting smell and since your pregnancy, it’s gotten more intense.

“Woo? You okay?” You pressed your palm against his forehead. “You’re really warm.”

He had blanked out on the couch this hot summer afternoon with all his thoughts that your sudden closeness took him by surprise and the strong whiff of your scent made his head spin.

His skin was hot to the touch and he was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. You bent over and kissed his forehead to feel for a fever.

His breath hitched as your breasts were at his eye level. They were hugged by your cotton tank top and that note of sweet milk overwhelmed his senses again, his hands scrambled to grab one of the pillows on the couch, placing it over his lap.

“Do you feel feverish, Woo?” You asked, standing up to full height, your hands soothingly caressing his ears and your fingers running through his bright red hair.

“N-not really,” he murmured, forcing his gaze away from your boobs. What would they feel like if he touched them? Were they sensitive? Did your milk taste sweet?

You pouted not sure what to do and also very worried about him. You took the seat on the couch beside him and turned the AC up, wondering if he might be coming down with something.

“I-I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” he managed to smile but it looked like a grimace which made you coo and pull him to lie down on your lap, so you could comfort him.

His ears twitched the more you caressed and petted him, scratching behind his ears now making that shivering sensation go straight to his cock.

This was bad.

He wanted to be near you…but he was scared he would lose control and get into trouble with Hongjoong.

“Y/N….”

“Yes, Youngie?” You hummed, comfortable on the couch as you put a movie on the TV.

“N-nothing…” he looked away, turning on his side so that he wasn’t looking at your pretty face and tempted to stare and continue to salivate at your full breasts.

After thirty minutes of focusing his eyes on the TV, he heard you whimper which instantly made him turn to you.

You had fallen asleep and your brows were knitted while your nose scrunched at something you felt.

He sat up slowly to not wake you and he worriedly looked at you.

Then the smell hit him.

He gulped and his eyes wearily traveled down from your face to your chest…the navy blue fabric began to stain at two spots…and they continued to dampen as you winced once more.

You were in discomfort again.

Wooyoung didn’t want to wake you up. You hadn’t slept properly the previous night because you had felt nauseous and Hongjoong was there to help you through it.

Maybe he could get a towel?

You whimpered in your sleep and he remembered how you soothed your pain a couple nights ago.

Before he could stop himself, his one hand cupped one of your breasts, his eyes shifting from your face and your pillowy, soft, tits. Your expression relaxed a little and his ears stood.

He was helping!

Wooyoung scooted closer, his other hand beginning to give the same attention to your neglected breast. He gently massaged and squeezed them…they were so soft and nice to touch. They were weighty beneath his palm and he noticed the damp patches beginning to grow... the thick sweet milky scent becoming stronger.

His mouth was salivating so much he had to swallow down thickly.

He can make you feel better. He knows he can!

He leaned closer to your breast his other hand not stopping its movements, and took a deep breath, his eyes closing at the decadent alluring scent. His tongue poked out and through the damp thin fabric of your top, he gently dragged his tongue along your stiffening peaks.

The taste of cotton wasn’t enough to mellow the sweetness of the milk that leaked from your breasts. He looked up at you as he continued to kitten lick and swirl his tongue around. You looked as peaceful as you did when he slept next to you a couple nights ago.

Wooyoung kept telling himself that he was helping you that he was doing good by soothing your pain but his increasingly rut-muddled mind was getting the best of him too.

Slowly, he pulled down the hem of your top until your breast popped out. He stared at the milky white that leaked out your nipple. He squeezed the pillowy flesh a bit and massaged it around a little only to find more milk spilled as he did that.

Without a single thought or even a hint of hesitation, he licked your nipple without the barrier of your top and the moment he tasted the fresh spilled milk on his tongue, his cock throbbed. You tasted so sweet. He circled his tongue and flicked it around again. His eyes closed as he began to gently suck, the action making more of your milk spill unto his tongue.

His tail wagged happily as he suckled at your breast, drinking your milk. You tasted so good, he didn’t think he could stop. He moaned, mouth stuffed with your tit. He could feel his right hand getting wet and he opened his eyes just a little only to see your right breast leaking more.

What a waste, he thought to himself before latching off your left breast to give the same treatment to the other.

“A-ah…” you mumbled softly in your sleep.

Wooyoung’s eyes snapped to your face as your brows were slightly knitted and your plump pretty lips were parted.

His hand on your breast gently rolled your stiff nipple between his fingers while he continued to suck at the other. Did you need more to relax?

His ears twitched when he heard that beautiful delicate sound that he would hear sometimes late in the night when he couldn’t sleep and he wasn’t allowed in the bedroom. Your soft moan made him short-circuit. He was the cause of that sound. Him.

Wooyoung knew he should stop. You weren’t his…you were Hongjoong’s. You weren’t his mate, you can’t ever be cause you were not a hybrid.

But like Hongjoong, he loved you too.

He loved you. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to touch you the way Hongjoong touched you.

So he couldn’t stop.

With each drop of sweet milk that ran down his throat, he was growing dizzy with desire and his rut was swallowing him whole. He swirled his tongue and continued to suck, not meaning to have done it as hard as he did that it stirred you awake from your nap.

“J-joongie?” Your eyes fluttered open, sleep making them feel heavy.

Your body was warm and tingling with pleasure that pooled directly to your lower belly. Your clit throbbed as your breasts were being fondled and…sucked?

Eyes slowly adjusting to your surroundings, you focused your gaze down, seeing a blur of red hair. Your breasts no longer ached instead they were being stimulated and played with. The wet hot tongue flicking and lapping at the peak of your breast made you moan as your body was being awoken with these sensations.

You blinked a couple of times, your breath getting quicker, and noticing the fluffy pointed red ears.

“Y-Youngie? Ah—,” you cut yourself off when he continued to suckle and fondle your other breast. “What are you doing?”

The fox hybrid stopped at the sound of his name.

Were you going to get mad?

His eyes snapped open and you were met with his wide and round puppy gaze. His pointy ears fell flat on his head and though his mouth was still full of your tit, he had stopped having his fill of your milk.

It was that look on his face when he was sorry for getting into trouble. The one that made your heart ache…how could you possibly get mad at him?

He latched off your tit unwillingly and looked down, avoiding your gaze. There was a sheen of your milk over his pink lips and you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm as what was happening processed in your head.

“Youngie…” your voice was soft and not scolding.

You cupped his cheek to make him look at you, his cheeks a dark shade of red as you waited for him to explain himself.

“I-I’m sorry…” he murmured, keeping his hands in fists on his lap. “Y-you were hurting…I just wanted to help. Y-you smelled so good. Your milk was leaking too…didn’t want it to go to waste.”

“Youngie…”

“I’m sorry.”

He turned his head away to look down, the carpet suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. While he avoided your gaze, you observed yours and Hongjoong’s hybrid. You placed your palm on his forehead again, he was warmer than when you had checked and your eyes observed his body, blushing when you noticed the very prominent tent in his black sweatpants.

“Woo, are you having your rut?”

He still didn’t look at you and like a sad puppy, he nodded ashamedly, his fingernails digging into his palms as he did his best to not pounce on you then there. You had an arm over your breasts covering them…why were you hiding from him?

His heart sank.

“But I made you feel better right?” He asked, his voice strained as he looked up at you.

He did but—

“I did good, right?” He leaned closer and you tried to move away but he only pressed forward til your back was against the cushions of the couch, his arms on either side of your body.

“You did but Woo—,”

“Then shouldn’t I get a treat?”

The look in his eyes has shifted. Gone was the sweet and playful Wooyoung you knew. His pupils were blown and predatory…and when his gaze flickered from your face to your chest, you felt like hiding.

“Youngie…” you were at a lost for words.

“P-please, let me have a treat. Let me make you feel good,” he pressed his nose onto your neck, taking a deep breath and whiff of your scent. “You smell so good. So, so, good.”

Your hands go to his shoulders as your heart raced in your chest. You could feel just how tense he was and how his muscles flexed beneath his thin black sweater. What were you to do?

“You taste so sweet too…,” he whined into your neck, a hand gently cupping your right breast and giving a squeeze, unable to fight back the moan that escaped your lips. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” He purred against your ear, licking a stripe along your neck. “You were making pretty noises when I was touching you.”

You gasped when you felt his pelvis press against your clothed cunt. He was hard and throbbing against his sweats, and when he slowly pressed his erection even more against you, you felt your walls clench around nothing.

It was hard to resist his touches, especially with how your hormones made you so sensitive and more…needy. You felt slightly embarrassed to feel yourself growing wet and aroused by him.

Wooyoung whimpered softly when his length rubbed against your covered heat, he could feel just how warm it was. He wondered how pretty your pussy would be taking his cock…or his knot…or his cu—

“Youngie,” his name came out in a breathy moan, a sound that he only dreamed of…a sound that he wanted to hear over and over. A sweet seductive rendition of his name that made all his self-control evaporate.

“I need you so bad,” he groaned, grinding his erection against your core, the friction sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body while your own reacted strongly to him too.

This was dirty. The whole act of it. Your husband wasn’t home and your weak attempts to fend off the hybrid were pitiful because, in the end, your body enjoyed it all. You enjoyed the way his hips were humping you, how his cock was rock hard against the gusset of your cotton shorts and rubbed your throbbing clit.

“W-Wooyoung!” You gasped when he latched his mouth on your left breast, nipping at your sensitive nipple before soothing them with flicks and swirls of his tongue. The warm tingly feeling in your boob made your pussy clench and you couldn’t stop the soft whimpers that came from you.

Wooyoung continued to grind against you, moaning with his mouth full of your tit and sweet milk on his greedy tongue. You tasted so good. How was we ever going to stop? Your moans and the scent of your arousal told him how much your body was enjoying this.

Your cheeks were hot as you realized he was drinking your milk. Your mind was hazy as your core ached for more, for something to be inside you. God, your hormones were through the roof and your gentle heart only felt sympathy for yours and Hongjoong’s hybrid.

“Y-Youngie w-wait,” you stuttered out softly, body burning hot from how he had been humping you and suckling at your sensitive chest.

Despite his rut-muddled brain, he had listened. If it had been any other hybrid with no self-control at all, they wouldn’t have stopped. Wooyoung stopped because…well…he loved you. Every word you said, everything you did, your comfort, and your happiness were things he valued so much.

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, releasing your nipple from his greedy mouth. Your face was flushed and there was a shy glint in your eye as you bit the inside of your cheek, thinking about something. Did he go too far?

“You’re going through your rut right?” You caressed his cheek as he rested his head on your chest.

He nodded.

“Which explains why your body is warmer than usual.”

The hybrid nodded again.

“D-does it hurt?” Your thumb softly glided over his cheekbone.

Wooyoung wanted to nod. His cock was so hard it hurts. He needed to do something about it…he needed release.

“Can I try to make you feel better?” You asked, unsure if what you thought of would actually help. Since he had been such a sweet boy for caring so much about your discomfort that he did actually help with the ache and pain in your breasts, you wanted to help him too.

His fluffy red ears pointed up high as his eyes widened and he sat up, wondering what you meant.

“W-what do you mean?” He stuttered, a dust of red blooming across his face.

Trying to ignore the rapid thumping of your heart, you gently guided him to sit closer to you and you looked at his crotch area, the top of the tent of his sweats a darker shade of gray as he had been leaking precum with how aroused he was.

“I’ll help you feel better too. You did the same for me, I want to help you. You said it hurts right?” You spoke softly as if someone could be eavesdropping.

Wooyoung gulped when your hand slowly ran up his thigh, getting closer and closer to his rock-hard cock.

“I-it does b-but I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.” His eyes were shifting from your flustered face and your hand. You were touching him.

“You’re so sweet, Youngie,” you smiled, pressing your lips on his forehead. “Don’t worry, okay? I want to.”

You just wanted to give Wooyoung a helping hand, nothing more.

The sweet fox hybrid was someone you had grown to treasure in your life and that you loved, and wasn’t it your responsibility to make sure he went through his rut safely. You didn’t know how to handle it, Hongjoong did but he wasn’t here and Wooyoung didn’t like the idea of going to those hotels. This was the least you could do to help him.

You untied the string of his sweatpants and tugged it down along with his boxers, and the moment they slipped down enough to let his cock free, it sprung up and slapped against his abdomen. Your eyes widened a bit as you took in the shape of his length and how the dark pink tip was glistening and leaking with precum. He really looked so painfully hard…

Wooyoung shamelessly moaned with just the mere touch of your fingertip on his tip as you smeared his precum all over the head before skimming your touch along his length. Your palm was soft and warm, you were so focused on helping Wooyoung out whose head was leaning on your shoulder as he tried to keep his eyes open to watch your pretty hand wrap around his cock.

He was hot against your palm and the more you stared at it, the more you felt your core clench for something more too but you couldn’t do anything about it. You’re not sure if that was a line you could cross especially since you had Hongjoong.

“Y-you’re so hard, Woo.” You breathed out, your mouth feeling dry as you slowly moved your hand up and down along his length, the way Hongjoong had taught you to touch him when you two had gotten intimate in the early stages of your relationship.

“A-ah,” his hot breath fanned at your collarbones. Your silky palm around his length felt better than his own hand and the grip you had as you pumped his cock made his head spin with pleasure, and his tail wagged excitedly. “That feels good.”

You softly smiled to yourself, happy that he was finding relief.

You kissed the top of his head and moved your hand just a little bit faster, setting a pace that had the fox hybrid panting and whining at the pleasure. He sounded…so cute. You wondered why he didn’t want to date. He was incredibly handsome and playful as well as sweet. He would’ve gotten a partner easily if he wanted to.

Wooyoung felt like he was in one of his dreams except this time it wasn’t and it was better than his dreams.

He glanced at your hand wrapped around his cock, not believing his eyes that you were jerking him off. It was so mind-numbingly good. Then with your scent too? It was driving him crazy.

Tugging down at your tank top once more to free one of your breasts, he latched his mouth on your tit again making you gasp in surprise. His tongue circled and flicked against your nipple then he began to suck, his ears standing up high as the flavor of sweet milk graced his tongue.

“W-Woo,” you breathed out shakily, not stopping the way your hand twisted up and down his throbbing hot length.

Wooyoung moaned, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the pleasure he was feeling and the taste of your milk.

Without a warning, his cock twitched, and hot spurts of white shot from his tip coating your hand and making a mess on his lap. His body twitched as he sucked hard at your breast, coming while your core dripped more slick, aroused.

He released your breast as he panted, whining as his cock remained hard even after coming.

Your brows furrowed wondering why he was still…rock hard. You brought your hand a bit closer to you as he savored his high, his cum was sticky and thick, you were curious to have a taste but fought the urge to do so…you only do that with Hongjoong.

You grabbed a couple of tissue papers on the coffee table to clean your hand, letting Wooyoung rest a bit, unaware how the hybrid’s need only increased a thousandfold after your hand job.

Wooyoung’s mind was filled with nothing but filth and the need to feel you, touch you, and fuck you. You were so sweet to have helped him…but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. You’ll be nice, right? You said you wanted to help.

Before you could process what was happening, Wooyoung had you lying on the couch as he buried his face into your crotch. He pushed away the gusset of your shorts so he could lick and lap at your pussy through the fabric of your panties.

“M-mommy tastes so good,” he moaned into your pussy as you gasped at the sensation of his wet tongue messily over your clit and your entrance.

“Y-Youngie!” You tried to stop him but he had his arms wrapped around your thighs as he nuzzled his nose into your soaked panties.

“You’re wet,” he licked his lips. “Are you enjoying this, mommy? I can help make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.” He groaned flattening his tongue over where your clit was, your back arching.

Your soft whines and moans only egged him on and his hands couldn’t stop themselves from tearing your panties apart to reveal the pink pulsing and slick pussy he’s dreamed of. His mouth watered at the sight. Your folds glistened with your arousal and he could see your little hole squeezing around nothing.

He could fix that.

“M-mommy your pussy is so pretty.” His eyes were wide as he stared, letting go of one thigh so that he could touch your pink cunt. He gently used his middle finger to glide through your slit, collecting your slick and in awe at how much more leaked from your cunt. You smelled of pure sex and it was driving his rut-infested brain crazy.

“Y-youngie, we can’t— ah!”

He licked a long stripe up your cunt, humming as he tasted the salty yet sweet nectar. Your walls clenched once more, pushing out more of your arousal which Wooyoung happily lapped up. He encircled your clit with his tongue, flicking against the sensitive bud and enjoying the whimpers and moans that were leaving you.

He felt happy. He was the cause of your pleasure this very moment.

Then he got greedier, his lazy kitten licks grew messier as he began to make out with your lower lips, his tongue dipping into your needy hole then his mouth suckling at your pussy like he did with your breasts.

Your hands found their way to his bright red hair as you moaned, your body caving into the pleasure.

It was sinful.

The slurping wet sounds filled the living room and your pants and his needy whines and groans were a symphony of obscene desire that bounced off the walls of your home.

Wooyoung moaned against your cunt as you tugged at his hair. Were you going to cum? He wondered. Your moans got pitchier and your breath quickened. He could feel your thighs tensing in his hold and that only urged him on, eating you out like you were his last meal on earth. Your pussy’s nectar was second to the sweet milk he drank from your tits but both made him harder and want you even more.

“Youngie! I’m gonna c-cum!” You squeaked out so cutely that he only continued to ravage your pussy, sucking and licking greedily.

This was wrong, you thought to yourself. Hongjoong would disapprove of Wooyoung’s behavior but your body loved the attention the hybrid was giving you.

One harsh suck and you fell apart, coming all over his tongue and he happily lapped up your release, prolonging your orgasm.

Your legs fell limp as you lost yourself in your high, mind empty and not noticing your phone buzzing on the coffee table.

Wooyoung spread your pussy lips apart, eying it in wonder as he positioned himself on the couch, pushing your thighs to your chest as you looked up at him confused.

“Y-Youngie?”

“You’ll let me right?” He asked, taking his cock and rubbing the bulbous head all over your pussy, coating the tip with your arousal. “I’m still hard. N-need mommy.” He whined, slotting his length between your lips and gently rocking against you. He needed your permission.

“Woo…” you tried to gather your thoughts but your pussy was still throbbing from your orgasm, your whole body tingling with sensitivity as your hormones were in overdrive, needing and craving for more.

“Your pussy is empty,” he murmured, his body got to touch as he perspired, his rut unraveled at this point. “You need cock, don’t you? Need my cock?”

His words made you blush and you couldn’t help but moan when his tip rubbed against your clit. You couldn’t think straight anymore as all you could think of was his thick cock splitting you open.

“I’ll fill you up real good, mommy.” He whined, pushing the fat head into your pulsing hole. He moaned at the hot sensation of your walls around him, it excited him so much he pushed his cock all the way in, watching it disappear into you inch by inch.

Your back arched as he bottomed out inside you, your tits leaking out milk as his tip nudged delightfully at your g-spot.

“Y-youngie!” You cried out gripping the cushion beneath you as he pressed forward into you, pushing you deeper into the mating press.

“M-mommy you’re so tight and warm. Fuck. My cock is inside you—ah—,” he whimpered, slowly pulling out til only his tip was inside you before plunging back in, your eyes seeing white momentarily at how good his cock felt rubbing your walls.

His hands rested on either side of your head as he hurriedly increased his pace. His fox instincts took over him as his head was filled with nothing but the thought of fucking you and breeding you.

“Y-youngie!”

His eyes were dark, and his canines were bared as he grunted above you, rutting into you, drilling his cock into your sopping cunt. The snap of his hips was deep and impatient, he was rocking into you like his life depended on it.

“M-mommy,” he moaned over and over, whimpering when he felt your velvety warm walls hugged his cock so good. He was so envious of Hongjoong. He gets to have you all the time. He wanted your pussy too and you wanted him too right? That explained how your walls squeezed around him, almost sucking him into your heat like you wanted to milk his cock dry. He wanted that. He’d let you do that to him.

He drove his hips deeper and faster, earning a loud moan from you as more of your sweet sticky slick leaked out your cock stuffed cunt, his length gliding in and out so easily. “Mommy’s pussy feels so good. Want to give mommy my pups too.”

“Y-Youngie,” you slurred out, tits bouncing with each deep thrust as he kept you in the mating press, your nipples leaking out milk as he fucked you. It was hard to not get lost in the pleasure, not when his fat cock slammed over and over against your g-spot making your head mush. His words weren’t even processed properly in your head.

Wooyoung leaned over as he pounded into you, taking one of your tits into his mouth, sucking your sweet milk as he felt his balls and the base of his spine grow tighter and tighter.

“L-love…mommy’s…tits,” he mumbled against your breast, flicking his tongue over your sensitive nipple and licking every drop of milk. “Love mommy’s pussy.”

“Youngie, I’m going to c-cum, a-ah!” His thrusts got faster, each slam of the fat head into your cunt numbing all your logical thoughts.

“M-me too,” he groaned, feeling his knot grow tight. His hips chased his release. The build-up to finally reaching his peak clouded his brain as he pistons into your heat, the continuous pounding on your g-spot sending you over the edge as you creamed around his cock.

Your head fell back as your body was wracked by a powerful orgasm that made your walls spasm and suck his cock in deeper into you, and in less than a minute, the whiny pants and moans of your hybrid were cut off by a broken whimper. With one last deep thrust, he pushed his knot into your quivering pussy making you cry out as it doubled the effect of your orgasm. Wooyoung saw white as his seed poured into your sopping hole, his cock twitching uncontrollably as he spilled his hot seed into you.

Wooyoung’s head was buried into your pillowy chest as his knot was engulfed by your hot walls. He was panting, his breath hot against your skin as you lay beneath him limp and unmoving, your body tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

In a hazy state, he licked along your breasts which were sticky and glistening with your milk. He growled possessively when he felt your pussy gently squeezing his knot, his arousal stirring again as it sunk into his head that he had filled your pussy with his cum. Wooyoung straightened up and glanced down at you.

Your hair was a pretty mess on your head, your eyelids were blinking heavily as you stared out into nothing and your lips were parted slightly as you slowly caught your breath. His beautiful Y/N. Gently, he cupped your face and caressed your cheek with his thumb, admiring how fucked out you looked beneath him. He glanced down to where you two were connected, his knot slowly disappearing and he felt his cock twitch to life at the sight of your pretty petal-like folds covered in a mess of your cream and his cum.

The hybrid was bewildered at the sight and all he knew was he wanted to do it over and over again.

Slowly, he pulled out of you, watching in awe as his seed leaked from your little hole. Not liking the idea of it going to waste, he gently hoisted you in his arms and carried you to yours and Hongjoong’s bed then gently laid you on it with your legs almost dangling off the edge. He folded your pliable legs and spread them apart for him before he plugged your leaking hole with his cock, pushing back his cum inside you. You whimpered as his fat length filled your sensitive cunt again.

“Y-Youngie, e-enough. T-that’s enough,” you slurred out, belly hot with his release.

“B-but mommy…,” he pouted, burying himself to the hilt and sighing once he was snug against your cervix. He grabbed your tit and squeezed it. “You said you wanted to help me…I still need your help.” His eyes were dark as his hand left your breast to glide down your very small bump before stopping when his thumb found your clit.

“I'm still so hard,” he whined, pressing his hips snugly against you while rolling your clit beneath his thumb, his cum and your slick making it easy for him to slide his digit around. “Only mommy cares for me.” He slowly began to shallowly thrust, his cock head nudging at your g-spot gently, your mind boggled at how the hybrid was still rock hard inside you. “You don’t want me to handle my rut all alone right? It’s more painful than before because you’re around. My beautiful m-mommy—ah!” He gasped when he felt your walls involuntarily clench around him. “It’s hard to be in control when you’re here…it’s all your fault.”

He was breathing heavily as he began to move against you once more, your body welcoming the sweet delicious scrape of his cock against your pulsing walls. You could deny it all you want but he felt so good. The way he fucked you, the way he suckled at your breasts…all of it was so good.

“M-my fault…” you repeated without a thought, not really understanding, too enraptured by the way he was rutting into you. “I-I’m sorry.”

Wooyoung whimpered at the soft apology, gripping your hips as strands of his bright red hair fell over his eyes, his ears twitching up as his pupils became blown and his mind became controlled by nothing else by his rut and his love for you.

“S’okay, mommy,” He hummed, leaning over to nuzzle his nose into your neck lovingly…possessively. “You’ll make it up to me now, right? Til I have my fill?” He licked along where your scent glands would be if you were a hybrid then gently nipped at the delicate skin, a soft gasp leaving you as he did. He moaned shakily when he felt your walls squeeze him when he grazed his teeth along your neck. “Mommy makes it so hard for me to control my rut…”

“My poor Youngie,” you cooed weakly, hugging him as he slowly slid his cock in and out of you. Your fingers combed through his hair and gently scratched behind his ears causing a deep resounding growl to purr from his chest. “I’m sorry…I-I’ll help.” At this point, boundaries between you and your handsome, playful, and loving fox hybrid no longer existed.

Those boundaries remained blurry and foggy when he began to fuck you like there was no tomorrow, letting him fulfill his needs with your own pleasure-greedy body. You lost count of how many times he came inside you and stretched you with his knot, all you knew was it warmed your heart that he was getting his fill and being relieved of his rut, while you were drunk on a cock that wasn’t even your husband's. Your breasts don’t even ache anymore, not when the hybrid pounding into you happily lapped up and suckled your milk.

Body burning too hot and mind sent into a state of unending pleasure, you don’t even hear the front door opening and closing, nor the soft chinking of the keys being dropped into the key dish by the entryway, nor the gentle loving voice of your husband announcing he was home.

Not even the hybrid stopped when he felt the presence of his other owner by the master bedroom’s doorway, in fact, he grew more possessive and territorial.

Hongjoong sighed and shook his head when he walked into his wife being fucked dumb on their bed by their supposedly sweet, unproblematic, and now very naked hybrid.

He had a feeling this would happen.

His expression was unreadable as he watched, unable to deny the twitch of his cock in his tailored pants when his eyes settled on the way your body took each thrust and how Wooyoung’s cock and your swollen pussy were covered in a sticky mess of cum.

He went over to the dresser and pulled at the bottom drawer.

Your head fell to the side as your body continued to rock with each thrust, heavy-lidded eyes making out the silhouette of your husband.

“J-joongie…”

The fox hybrid growled as you softly muttered out another man’s name, driving his cock faster into your pussy making you cry out as your head spun by the unending abuse of your g-spot.

As much as your husband enjoyed the pornographic sight of his beautiful wife getting fucked as he could only find beauty in the thought of how this was how you would look from a different perspective when he fucked you dumb like the good girl you were for him, he wasn’t happy with his naughty misbehaving hybrid.

Wooyoung didn’t stop, he couldn’t. It didn’t matter that Hongjoong’s dominant aura overpowered his own. Not when he was so close to cumming again and how your walls were pulsing around him.

The man of the house’s eyes darkened when he saw the very slight bruising on your soft delicate hips from the grip of Wooyoung’s hands as he pistons his hips into you mindlessly. How long has he been fucking you? Hongjoong knew this cock drunk state of yours all too well…he was rather impressed Wooyoung was able to bring you to this state.

Before Wooyoung could reach his nth orgasm, it was forcefully taken from him with one harsh tug. His eyes widened when he felt himself yanked back by the neck away from you, his cum that he had been fucking into you leaking out. He growled and fought against the leather around his neck.

He bared his teeth as he tried to pounce back onto you but then he felt the familiar disciplinary hand on the back of his neck squeezing him in warning. His body froze like it always had when he was being trained by Hongjoong.

“Bad puppy,” Hongjoong said dangerously low, forcing him down onto his knees.

“J-joongie…he needed…help,” you murmured out, unable to move, body too heavy from hours of fucking.

“Did he now?” He looked down at the fox hybrid, whose eyes were glued onto your pussy and whose cock was standing erect and glistening with your slick.

“Mommy didn’t cum yet, need to make mommy cum.” He was still in his rut frenzy, trying to crawl closer to you but Hongjoong yanked him back to his place.

“Stay here or else,” Hongjoong commanded in a voice that would make Wooyoung want to run and hide. His ears dropped as he pressed his hands on his thighs, nails digging into his skin as he trembled to control himself.

Hongjoong walked over to you, your legs dangling off the edge of the bed, your pussy covered with the hybrid's cum and the sheets below you drenched. Did Wooyoung manage to make you squirt like he does?

“My poor baby,” Hongjoong cooed, brushing hair away from your face as his eyes drank in your current state. He frowned when he saw how puffy your nipples were and before he could even ask if you were okay, your dainty fingers clutched at his shirt.

“Need to cum…Joongie. Please…” you whined causing Wooyoung’s ears to perk up, his head only hearing the first three words.

“Oh, darling.” He gently cupped your heavy breast feeling their weight beneath his palm and you whimpered at the feeling.

“Joong, please.”

Hongjoong only hummed at your plea, letting his hand roam your pliant body to continue observing you. His hand gently caressed the small bump of your tummy before he reached your inner thigh, trailing higher and clicking his tongue when he saw how his wife’s pink pussy was smeared with and leaked of cum.

“Wooyoung has been a bad fox, hasn’t he?” His voice was laced with tease and disapproval.

“H-he was good,” you defended the sweet hybrid, mind too fuzzy from the hours of sex. “He took care of me and I took care of him…he just got carried away a little.”

“Oh, sweetheart, this isn’t a little.” Hongjoong’s tone was stern and it made Wooyoung glare at his master rather than his usual cower. He was annoyed that Hongjoong was getting in between you and him, he was not done with wanting to fill you up with his cum. “You’re all sore aren’t you, baby?”

You nodded slowly, admitting that you were tired even though your body ached for more since Wooyoung was in the process of making you come for the nth time.

“Look, Woo bruised your pretty skin,” he sighed, running his fingers along the bruises on your hips. “He got too carried away.”

Hongjoong gently put you over his lap, hooking your legs over his thighs as he spread them apart, keeping you open to Wooyoung whose jaw was clenched so tightly and his eyes focused on just you.

Your husband could feel you leaning onto him, unable to hold yourself up from the exhaustion. You weakly shifted and wriggled, aching for friction, and the hybrid meters away was salivating and so willing to give you what you wanted.

As if to rub salt in the wound and his suffering, Hongjoong caressed your lower belly before his fingers found your swollen nub, more sweet moans that Wooyoung couldn’t get enough of leaving your lips. The mix of your arousal and Wooyoung’s cum made it easy for Hongjoong’s fingers to slide between your folds and massage your sensitive clit.

“My darling wants to cum?” Hongjoong kissed the crown of your head, moving his fingers in the way he knew would bring you to the edge.

You nodded, one of your hands moving to his hair as your hips pressed towards his hand.

“Oh, Joongie,” you sighed, eyes closing as you’re brought closer and closer to the orgasm you almost reached earlier.

“Wooyoung has a been a bad fox, darling. Touching what’s mine without my permission,” he stared at Wooyoung as he rubbed your clit, the hybrids ears drooping at the sight of you being pleasured by Hongjoong and not him. “He should be punished, don’t you think?”

Wooyoung’s eyes left your beautiful body momentarily at the word to look at Hongjoong with fear.

“Joongie, no…he’s been good—ah…”

Hongjoong kissed your cheek. “Maybe Wooyoung should tell me what he did and I’ll decide if he can cum one more time…”

Wooyoung inched closer, a small whine escaping his throat at the sweet scent of your sex. The damned collar around his neck reminded him how Hongjoong dominated him at this very moment and that if he disobeyed or made a wrong move, he won’t be able to touch you again or ever.

“Mommy was in pain s-so I helped.” Wooyoung enviously watched Hongjoong cup your swollen breast as he continued to play with your pussy.

“Mommy?” Hongjoong snickered at the way the hybrid addressed you. Who would’ve thought he would have a mommy kink?

Wooyoung blushed beneath Hongjoong’s degrading gaze. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Milk…she was hurting 'cause of the milk. Massaging made her feel better,” he tried to speak, unable to tear his eyes away from your body writhing and twitching with pleasure. “I didn’t want it to go to waste so I—,”

“How did it taste?” Hongjoong cut him off before kissing your neck, gently pinching and rolling your puffy nipple between his fingers, not halting his ministrations of your clit.

“J-joong,” you whimpered, feeling your core tighten as you neared your climax. The way he was speaking to Wooyoung as if he wasn’t playing with and pleasuring your body in front of your beloved hybrid, made you feel a different kind of arousal.

“Tastes good. So sweet…” Wooyoung admitted, his nails digging into his thighs as he watched your face contort erotically.

“You dirty pup,” Hongjoong clicked his tongue as he felt the way your thighs tensed and how your breathing fastened. He sped his fingers up and squeezed your breast, that piling tension in your core snapping as you reached your release.

You gasped and clutched at your husband’s hair, your head thrown back as your hips trembled and your body shivered from your orgasm.

Wooyoung held his breath as he saw how more slick dripped from your already abused pussy.

“That’s it, darling. Good girl,” Hongjoong whispered in your ear, letting you ride it out while the hybrid looked like a kicked puppy gazing at you.

Your husband pets your head lovingly, peppering gentle kisses along your neck and taking his hand off your breast, feeling the wetness that coated his fingers.

“Woo says your milk tastes sweet, baby. Did you let him drink your milk?”

You nodded your head weakly, nuzzling your face into your husband’s neck.

“It made you feel better?”

You nodded again.

Hongjoong hummed and brought his fingers to his lips, aware that Wooyoung was watching him then licked his digits, tasting your milk.

“He’s right baby,” he grinned. “You taste sweet. No wonder our Youngie got carried away. But…he’s still a bad fox. He told us he’d be able to handle his rut.”

“I’m sorry—.”

“But he couldn’t resist you, baby? I told you Wooyoung had a crush on you.” Hongjoong continued to tease the hybrid, amused at how dilated his eyes were and how stiff his cock was just staring at your cunt, almost drooling at the sight.

“Youngie doesn’t want to go to the hotel…” you mumbled, gaining little of your senses back.

“I know darling but if we’re going to be taking care of him when he goes into a rut, he’s going to have to behave…”

“I’ll behave, I swear!" Wooyoung blurted out, inching closer til he was knelt by the edge of the bed, just a couple of inches away from your dripping cunt. “I’ll be good.”

“I trusted you to be able to handle your rut alone when you said so,” Hongjoong went on, caressing your sides and kissing your neck. “But I came home to this…”

Wooyoung swallowed the lump in his throat and Hongjoong gripped his chin before brushing his two digits along the hybrid’s lips, the fingers that had been on your pussy.

“Be a good boy and lick her clean, and if I’m satisfied, I’ll let you fuck her again.”

Without hesitation, Wooyoung scooted closer and buried his face into your pussy, a shiver going down his spine as he heard your sweet mewling. He lapped happily at the taste of your release and a mix of his as well, and Hongjoong was pleased with his submission and eagerness.

“What do you say, baby?” Hongjoong turned his attention back on you now, knowing he could stop Wooyoung whenever he wanted to with a tug of his collar. “Can you take our sweet Youngie’s cock again? Look how hard he is for you.”

Through heavy-lidded eyes, you gazed at your beloved hybrid. His eyes were shut in bliss as he tasted you, his hot tongue attacking and invading your overstimulated pussy once again. Then your line of vision fell to his lap, his toned thighs flexing and his cock painfully stiff and leaking messily with pre-cum.

You nodded. “I-I can.”

“That’s my good girl.” He cooed and Wooyoung’s ears pointed up at the sound of your voice, his tail wagging excitedly at the thought of being buried in your tight heat again.

Hongjoong wasn’t entirely upset with Wooyoung. He has acknowledged and accepted the fact that the busy season was going to keep him in the office more than he liked but he always trusted Wooyoung to look after you when he’s away.

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple as he laid your head on the pillow while Wooyoung positioned himself between your legs, lining his cock to your pulsing hole once more.

With the baby coming along, he wouldn’t be able to be there as often as he liked to care for your hormonal needs…as much as he’d love to do so. He just needed to balance his time to be more present as the father of the baby and your husband but he didn’t particularly mind the idea of letting Wooyoung have you from time to time. He wasn’t blind to the affection Wooyoung had for you, he just needed to make sure that Wooyoung knows his place if Hongjoong decided on letting him into yours and his relationship.

What mattered to him was your happiness and your family...and that included Wooyoung.

im sorry if this wasnt the best but yeah, 3 months worth of brain rot and business, I came up with this. Im still working on training wheels part 2 as well as continuing sway with me :> thank you so much for reading my works and your support!

tags : @songmingisthighs @bunny4yungi

[purple-babygirl]

I've been feeling hella insecure ever since I found out I was pregnant. My babydaddy is supportive BUT how would Bucky help his girl feel better? Ya know with all the acne popping out of nowhere and her body getting bigger (stretch fucking marks) and I know I'm just a few months away from not being able to shave so maybe throw that in there too please. Doesn't have to be a real fic just headcannons would help really. Love you from Canada ❤️❤️

unconditionally

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader Word count: 2,670 Warnings: insecurities, low self-esteem, intrusive thoughts, body image, 18+ Content: mentions of fingering, a bit of dirty talk A/N: this is probably the first time I ever get an ask and want to make sure to write a reply on the very same day. congratulations on your baby, dear nonnie💜💜 I hope you have a safe pregnancy and an easy delivery, super proud of you over here💜💜💜 please forgive me if this seems rushed, I, too, feel I've gotten a bit rusty but I'm still hoping that you wouldn't completely hate this💜please excuse me while I combine a bit of another ask with yours. thank you so much for sending this ask and sharing such sweet news with me. Much love right back to you, maple syrup nonnie💜💜💜💜💜💜

~

Scars

All it took was Bucky trying to kiss the back of her hand on their second date and the slight flinch of her digits let him know something wasn’t right. At first, he thought he made her uncomfortable, so he gave her her space for the rest of the night. However, she kissed him first when he was walking her up to her door that night, so he told himself he might have imagined it all.

Then it happened again on their 4th date. They were at the movies and Bucky’s hand held hers, his thumb caressing the back of it. When his thumb brushed a particular spot, the slight flinch was back. Bucky made sure to ask if she was okay this time and she reassured him that she was. He could tell that her body gave the same tense reaction every time his thumb brushed against a specific spot on the back of her hand though, which was a scar.

She had a small scar on the bottom of her forefinger that she would mostly cover with rings. Tonight, however, she wasn’t wearing any, which led to direct contact between Bucky’s thumb and the scarred area.

Bucky told himself he was reading way too much into the situation, that it probably wasn’t that. The scar itself was very small, barely noticeable.

But his previous doubts were brought back and confirmed on their 6th date. It was the first time she let him come in after a date and the first time they were going to have sex since they started dating.

Bucky has unzipped her dress and was ready to push it down her shoulders when she held it to her chest as asked if the lights could be turned off.

“Why, doll?” He frowns despite himself, his brain not understanding why she would ever want to hide behind the curtain of darkness.

“It’s nothing... I’m just used to it.” She shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant.

“You know by now that I can tell when you’re lying, doll.” Bucky smiles gently.

He didn’t know, but his tender smile made her want to cry.

“I— I have a scar on my tummy.”

Her voice is so small when she utters the words that it had Bucky’s heart dropping.

It must’ve been clear on his face that he feared the worst because she quickly continues, “no one hurt me, it’s just from a small surgery I had when I was a kid. But the scar is.. ya know.. still kinda.. there.”

Her arms involuntarily hugged the dress tighter to her chest and waist as she explained.

“Doll, you realize I practically have no left arm, right?”

She chuckles softly before looking up at him, “that’s different, Buck. You’re beautiful.”

“So are you!”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “I mean, I can always get a tattoo or two drawn on the scars. Someone had suggested that to me before..” Her thumb caresses her scarred forefinger.

And it clicked in Bucky’s head.

Another person had made her feel this way about her scars. Some idiot had previously told her to ‘cover up’ her scars, get them tattooed over, made her feel like she wasn’t something to look at while the lights were still on.

Bucky was seething to say the least, but he couldn’t let his anger make him lose sight of what was important and what this whole thing was about. Her.

She needed to understand that she wasn’t anything short of art, a vision, a sight that could get him on his knees in a second.

“Doll, you have nothing to hide. Whatever is underneath your dress, I know it will blow my mind. I’m already hard for you, baby, I don’t care.”

She blushes, smiling up at him shyly, her eyes still unsure.

“Please, believe me.” Bucky’s hand cups her cheek as he kisses her forehead then her nose and finally her lips.

“You show me yours if I show you mine?” He whispers against her lips.

She nodded, her heart fluttering at the gesture.

Without hesitation, Bucky pulls away and takes his jacket off, pulling his t-shirt over his head next.

He stood before her in all of his glory, showing the scars on his chest, even turning around for her to see the ones on his back before facing her again and bringing her smaller hand to his left shoulder. The ugliest part of him from his point of view.

His eyes close as she tentatively touches him.

She knew it wasn’t easy for Bucky to show her himself like that. Her fingertips tracing, soothing, his scar tissue was the most intimate he has ever let anybody get with him in decades.

Her eyes tear up, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest: love, compassion, gratitude, trust.

Bucky opened his eyes when she removed her touch, only to be met with the sight of her letting her dress fall around her body to pool by her feet.

She stepped out of it, showing Bucky the horizontal scar across her belly.

Without a second thought, Bucky gets on his knees before her, his lips ever so softly brushing her skin.

She closed her eyes, a tear or two escaping her eyes at the closeness of the moment.

She doesn’t remember ever feeling so safe, so accepted.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on and I’m a hundred years old, baby.” Bucky whispers on her skin, the vibrations tickling her as a smile finds its way to her lips.

Acne

When it is a particularly bad breakout she would lean away further, try not to let her cheeks touch Bucky’s because she has this weird belief that she might ‘give it to him’ even though he has reassured her multiple times before that he was a super soldier who couldn’t possibly get acne. Still, she would involuntarily refrain from indulging in his cheek kisses as much as she normally would when it was a bad skin week.

If Bucky told her that he never even noticed, she would think he was lying to her. But he didn’t. She was always the same beautiful girl to him at all times. It didn’t matter if it was the week before her period or the first few months of her pregnancy; he did not see the new pimples. Bucky didn’t notice because he saw her, he focused on her rather than on the flesh and skin that covered her bones.

She was the one to bring his attention to the acne on her face, the acne on her shoulders, on her back, on her butt. Bucky didn’t care though. He loved her all the same, craved her all the same, could stare at her dreamily for hours all the same, could cum in his pants at the sight of her naked form like a horny teenager all the same.

But she had already gotten him to notice the physical changes, so he acted accordingly. With care. With love. Unconditional love.

“Doll, don’t pick,” Bucky says, gently taking her hand up to his lips before her nails could start picking at her new pimples.

He kisses her finger tips and the back of her hand before keeping it in his to make sure she wouldn’t take it to her face again.

She smiles, trying to focus back on the movie playing on their TV, but all she could really think about was how much she loves Bucky Barnes.

Body hair

The next time Bucky realized that his beloved goddess had insecurities, it surprised him still. It was when he came back from a long mission 2 days earlier than expected and tried to show her how much he’s missed her.

He noticed how she instantly closed in on herself when his foot caressed up her shin, moving away a little.

It was only when he pressed her about it through tickles that she finally provided an explanation and whispered, “I didn’t shave.”

Again, Bucky hadn’t even noticed. He didn’t care. All he cared about was the this was her. His girl. The one he has missed like crazy when he was away. The one he wanted to be naked with and make love to all night long.

If she thought a bit of body hair was going to stop him, she couldn’t be more wrong.

“Doll, I don’t care.” He tried to kiss her but she pulled away.

She only ever did that once before because she was sick and forgot he couldn’t catch her cold.

“Buck, please, there’s hair everywhere.” She covers her mouth, “even the mustache has some.”

Her insecure whisper with her gaze lowered tugged at Bucky’s heart in a way he couldn’t describe.

Who the hell has led her to believe that body hair was something to be this ashamed of and where could he find them? He just wanted to talk—

“You think a little hair is going to stop me from ravishing you, doll?” Bucky asks huskily, nibbling at her earlobe.

She shivers like she always does, but still tries to pull away, “it is not just a little hair.”

She gets up and stands in the middle of the room, looking in the direction of the bathroom, “I can be quick.”

Bucky sighs, sitting down on the edge of their bed and pulling her down on his lap.

“Doll, I never wanna make you uncomfortable, you know that.”

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” she explains softly.

“You’re not. I am more than comfortable fucking you right on the floor beneath your feet.”

She blushes, looking up at him with nothing but adoration in her eyes.

“I don’t care if you haven’t shaved for a few days or if you were turned into a yeti. You’re my girl and I want you. I will always want you.”

Bucky’s eyes were sincere and the bulge she was sitting on confirmed his words all the more, so she finally let him lay her down on her back and worship her the way she was meant to be.

Bucky let his lips kiss every inch of her that night. He licked the shit out of her thighs and ate her pussy like a starved man, not letting up until she was about to pass out, but most importantly until she believed him.

Stretch marks and body weight changes

Now that was the one that really never made Bucky blink even once. If anything, he liked them. Her stretch marks looked like the ripples of the sea on the skin of his very beloved. The fucking ocean with all its beauty under his calloused fingertips. He liked it all the more knowing it was just more evidence of his baby growing inside of her. How lucky was he?

She, of course, didn’t see it that way, examining her waist and thighs for hours before the mirror if Bucky would let her.

“Admiring how hot you are, I see.” Bucky smiled as he wraps his arms around her waist.

She instantly smiles back at his warmth engulfing her from behind though she doesn’t agree, “yeah, yeah.. hot is the word.”

“I don’t like your insinuations about my girl, doll.” He nibbles at her neck, his fingers gravitating towards her growing belly.

“That’s because there’s nothing hot about this, Bucky!” She argues, frustrated.

“Doll, you have another human growing inside of you; it’s more than normal for these changes to happen to your body.” He doesn’t stop caressing her bare tummy as his lips brush along her neck.

“I know.. doesn’t mean I will magically be able to accept it though. It’s.. a lot, Buck.”

“I know, love,” he kisses the spot behind her ear, “but I swear to you, you have never been sexier to me.”

“You swear? Pfft.” She tries to get out of his hold, unable to see what he was talking about.

“Hey,” Bucky stops her, bringing her back to stand before the mirror, “look at yourself. You’re a goddamn goddess. You have a baby in here and your body is merely accommodating, baby. Look at those full breasts.” Bucky squeezes her boobs gently in his large hands and she instantly moans, “all mine”.

“But— ”

“Who did this to you hmm?” Bucky teases, circling his thumb over her covered nipple.

“Bucky—” Her head is thrown back on his shoulder as his other hand finds its way between her legs.

“Who put a baby in you? Filled up this tight pussy again and again until you had no choice but to become knocked up?”

“Y- you did, Buck.” She breathes, her legs opening for him.

“That’s right, doll.” He slips a finger into her and then another, “look at yourself. Look how breathtaking you look with my baby growing inside of you, taking my fingers like you were meant to.”

She can barely open her eyes, yet the first thing they zero on is, “but the stretch marks—”

“I love them.” Bucky sucks at her neck.

“And all that newly gained body weight—” She moans, her hips grinding down on his hand.

“I adore it.”

“The way I’m gonna get heavier—”

“Has me absolutely infatuated.”

When her legs suddenly shake, her knees buckling, she thinks it was Bucky’s complete acceptance of her in every state that made her cum, not his fingers.

And if she thinks she’s going to walk away from that mirror before she watches herself fall apart for Bucky at least twice, she was an idiot.

 Snoring

It’s gotten a little difficult for her as the months pass to sleep in any other position but on her back, which unfortunately led to something she never used to do: snoring. The first night Bucky had woken her up to help her adjust the position of her head made her felt so embarrassed that she couldn’t go back to sleep again. And the very next night, she wanted to sleep in a different bed as to not interrupt Bucky’s sleep so much, so.. annoyingly.

“Absolutely not.”

“Buck, let’s be rational, please. You have things to do tomorrow, a mission by the end of the week. You need your sleep. Lots of it.”

“I said no, doll.”

“But listen—”

“I don’t remember you making me sleep in a different room when I used to wake you up to nightmares.”

His voice is so soft as he reminds her and it makes her heart melt.

“Bucky, that’s different—”

“You’re right, my thing almost gave you a fucking heart attack every single night, sometimes multiple times in the same night.”

“It’s not like it was something you chose to do!”

“And this is something you choose to do?”

Her mouth opens and closes but remains silent.

“Doll, I don’t wake you up at night because I’m annoyed by the snoring. I wake you up because I want you to breathe properly and have a comfortable sleep.”

“I want you to have a comfortable sleep too—”

“I do. Doll, I don’t wanna be anywhere but next to you. You think I’m gonna give up the privilege of being able to fall asleep next to you just because you started snoring?”

“Bucky.” She blushes in embarrassment, yet her heart skips a beat.

“Love, you are the reason I’m able to fall asleep like a normal person at all. How could you ever think I would wanna sleep in separate rooms?”

“I just care for you.”

“I care for you too, baby. And I wanna be there for you, with you, every step of the way. I want you snoring to wake me up because then I know to reposition your head and help you sleep better. I want your cold feet to wake me up because then I know to put socks on you because I know you can’t reach because of your belly—”

“My feet wake you up too!”

“Jesus, doll—”

~

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love @tiedyedghoulette @saint-marvel @helenaellie @onceithough @raynelbabe @a-very-fictional-girl @justabeluga @lindababe69 @sapphirebarnes

[alwaysmicado]

I love your writing, could there possibly be a third instalment of keep you warm please 🥹

cravings

3.4k | Joel Miller x f!reader

post-outbreak, established relationship, pregnancy, smooching Summary: Your pregnancy hormones have you craving three things: figs, coffee, and Joel. He’s more than happy to accommodate you. A/N: Anon, thank you so much for your sweet message!! I'm so happy you liked keep you warm and never felt so loved. Both fics are very special to me, so it means a lot that you connected with them. Enjoy this one and please let me know what you think! 🤍

“Joel.”

You peer at his peaceful face, but his slumbering form remains undisturbed. He seems to be lost in the realm of dreams, showing no signs of stirring.

Undeterred, you lean in a little closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you repeat his name, the warmth of your breath a gentle caress. Still, the subtle symphony of your voice fails to penetrate the fortress of his sleep, especially on the side of his deaf ear.

Realizing your gentle approach might not suffice, you decide on a more direct method. With a hesitant resolve, you extend your hand and give his shoulder a tender shake, hoping to wake him up. 

“Joel,” you say a bit louder, the gentleness of your initial attempts replaced by a touch of urgency.

As Joel finally begins to wake, his eyes flicker open, and his gaze immediately darts to your face. He turns towards you, and his hand instinctively finds its way to your belly. His touch is both tender and firm, as if grounding himself in the reality of the life blossoming within you.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles, worry evident in his voice. The urgency in his tone reflects the immediate need to ensure your well-being. 

You’re only seven months pregnant; it’s far too early for the baby to arrive. Did he miss any signs that something is wrong with you? You’ve been uncomfortable and you’ve been experiencing horrible back pain for the past few weeks, yes, but besides that, you seemed fine, right?

It’s typical of you to keep quiet and hide your pain from him. What if he wasn’t attentive enough? He shouldn’t have left you alone at home for so long, he should have taken better care of you. This can’t be happening again, please, God–

“Joel,” you interrupt his racing thoughts, sensing the mounting panic radiating off his body. You place a reassuring hand on his warm chest, and the other over his on your bump. “Breathe. It’s okay. The baby’s fine. I’m fine.”

Relief washes over him, but confusion quickly takes over as he notices the glisten of tears on your moonlit cheeks. Concern deepens the furrows on his forehead as he searches your eyes for an explanation.

“What happened, darlin’?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur, trying his best to remain calm.

“I…I love you so much,” you finally blurt out, your voice breaking. Unable to contain the surge of emotions any longer, you let your tears fall freely. The intensity of your love for him feels overwhelming, almost painful, tonight. You know it’s silly, but you can’t help it.

You need him to know.

Joel blinks, his brain needing a few seconds to register your unexpected declaration of love. As he processes the situation and your words, the realization dawns that the unpredictable currents of pregnancy hormones must have taken hold of you. His expression immediately softens, a hint of amusement replacing his initial confusion.

“Well, now ain’t that a sweet thing to wake me up for.”

You sniffle, feeling a bit offended by his nonchalant response.

“Joel, I’m serious. It–it hurts, you know? My heart feels like it’s going to burst with love for you and I feel like I’m gonna die if I can’t get you to understand how much I love you. Please tell me you understand and–and that you know and will never forget? Please?”

Your voice breaks again as your big, watery eyes pierce Joel’s soul. He sits up, his face softening further as he realizes the depth of your feelings.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. 

“I understand, sweetheart,” he murmurs against the crown of your head. “I know how much you love me, even though I need to pinch myself sometimes to make sure I’m not dreamin’.” He gently strokes the back of your head. “Why such a wonderful person like you would love a grumpy old man like me is beyond me, but I’ve accepted it a long time ago. I know you do, darlin’. You can be sure of that.”

Your gratitude echoes in a soft “thank you” against his warm chest, the emotional weight on your shoulders lifting slightly as you try to steady your breathing. Sitting up next to him, you turn to meet his dark, alert eyes, your vulnerability laid bare.

“I just…what is wrong with me? I’ve never been this emotional. It’s exhausting and it sucks so bad,” you admit, a hint of frustration coloring your words. You look into his eyes, seeking understanding and reassurance.

“I know I probably sound like a crazy person, but I honestly don’t know what to do with all this love for you. It’s like it’s too much for me. And…I don’t wanna freak you out or be too clingy, you know, I’m really trying to give you space, I am. It’s just too much right now and I feel so lost and scared that you don’t actually, fully understand what you mean to me. And–and it’s breaking my heart.” 

You’re gesticulating wildly, hiccups occasionally disturbing your stream of consciousness. 

“Sweetheart,” Joel chuckles as he takes your hands into his. “It’s alright, I promise. Too much love? I’m pretty sure that’s a problem most folks would like to have.”

You give him a playful glare, though your eyes are still damp. “You’re not taking me seriously.”

He shakes his head, cupping your tear-streaked face in his hands. “I am, darlin’, I am. I know how much you love me. I can feel it every day.” He gently rubs your cheeks with his thumbs. “But maybe, just maybe, the pregnancy hormones are playin’ a little trick on you tonight. They can make everything feel like it’s a hundred times more intense. But you ain’t crazy, and there’s nothin’ wrong with you,” he assures you with a soft smile. 

You huff a laugh, despite your emotional state. “It’s not a trick, Joel. I really, really love you.”

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And I love you too, sweetheart, more than words can say. And about bein’ too clingy? Forget that immediately. You know I like havin’ you close.” He kisses both of your wet cheeks with his warm lips, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. “Ain’t no such thing as too much love, especially when it comes from you.”

His words carry a sincerity that resonates in your bedroom, and the corners of his lips curl into a teasing grin. “But, sweetheart, I gotta admit, I’m flattered. Never thought little ole me would have someone as lovely as you worryin’ so much about his heart.” 

A deep sigh escapes you as his lips find the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands delicately tracing the curve of your swelling belly. His words, a whispered acknowledgment of the warmth you bring to his life, stir a tender emotion within you.

“You’ve got a real knack for makin’ a man feel special, you know that?” 

Your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the sensations of Joel’s touch, and a soft hum escapes your lips, your breath quickening with anticipation. In a barely audible whisper, you express your need for him, the desire between you two growing with each passing moment. The air becomes charged with an electric energy, and as your hand moves down his belly, the mutual longing intensifies to a fever pitch.

Joel, unable to resist the urge to have you, pulls you onto his lap, his arms enveloping you, drawing you close. The hunger that has been simmering throughout the day is unleashed in a passionate kiss that conveys the overwhelming depth of your craving for this man. Clothes are shed in a frenzy, the urgency of the moment fueled by a shared longing that borders on painful.

“Let me show you how much I love you, darlin’,” he whispers against your lips, his hands exploring your body with an intensity that mirrors the fervor of your own desire. “I promise you’ll be able to sleep after.”

– – –

The next morning arrives with the soft glow of dawn, casting gentle shadows across the room. As you slowly awaken, the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickles your senses. Joel, ever considerate of your morning routine, has prepared enough of it for you to savor as soon as you rise.

With sleepy eyes, you make your way to the kitchen, where the rich scent of the precious beverage beckons. Joel’s thoughtful gesture warms your heart, and you can’t help but smile at the simple yet meaningful act of love.

“Have I ever told you that your dad is the best?” you ask your baby, rubbing soft circles on your belly. “He would always let me have some of his coffee when we were on the road because he knew how much I liked it. Even before we fell in love. And now that you’re making me have all of these wonderful cravings, he’s making sure I get my cup every single day. Isn’t that nice?”

As you take that first sip, the warmth of the coffee spreads through you, dispelling the remnants of sleep. The familiar flavor grounds you, letting you forget your aching body and anxious mind for a minute.

“What are you in the mood for, little one? Apart from kicking me and pressing on my bladder, of course.” You smile to yourself and watch the snowflakes dancing outside the window. “I think a stroll to the greenhouse sounds nice, hm? Maybe they have new vegetables or fruits we can try. I’m still dreaming about that fig your dad brought us a few months ago, you know? You were still tiny back then, but I think you must’ve liked it.” 

You’ve repeatedly woken up from vivid dreams of eating the luscious fruit, felt the juice running down your chin, only to—very disappointedly—realize that you’d been sucking on your pillow instead.

You sigh and drink the rest of your coffee in silence before getting ready, putting on your oversized winter coat, your wooly hat, and your boots. All gifts from Maria. Maybe you could visit her today, too. You’ve been trying to make an effort to get to know her and Tommy better, after all. For Joel, mostly, but you must admit that they’ve grown on you as people — as family.

The greenhouse stands as a haven of life amid the chilly winter air. As you step inside, a wave of warmth embraces you, accompanied by the vibrant hues of thriving plants. The scent of earth and greenery fills the air, and you can’t help but marvel at the array of vegetables and fruits flourishing under the community’s care.

Maria, noticing your presence, looks up from her gardening tasks with a warm smile. “Well, look who’s here! It’s been a while. How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she greets you, wiping her hands on a cloth.

You return Maria’s smile, grateful for her welcoming demeanor. “I’m doing okay, thank you for asking,” you say as you take off your thick coat. “The baby’s been quite active lately. She even kicked so hard a few nights ago that she woke Joel up. He was so freaked out,” you chuckle, remembering Joel’s shocked face. “We honestly can’t wait to meet her.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Maria says, guiding you through the rows of flourishing plants. “Being surrounded by all this life does wonders for the soul, doesn’t it?”

You nod, taking in the sight of tomatoes, cucumbers, and various herbs thriving under the controlled environment. “It’s amazing what you’ve created here, Maria. I would love to help out as soon as I can do physical labor again. I’ve always loved looking after living things, especially animals or plants. I’m still getting used to the idea of a little human.” 

Maria chuckles, her eyes filled with warmth. “It’s a big change, but it’s a beautiful one. It’s like…finding a piece of yourself you didn’t know was missing. And then suddenly, you’re whole, and it all makes sense. You realize that all you’ve done has led you to this perfect little being, and you’ll feel love you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling. It’s, uh, it’s amazing.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile as she notices your tears. “Sorry,” you mumble, wiping them away with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ve been so emotional lately. It’s so embarrassing.”

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. Now, what brings you here today? Just checking out our little green corner?”

“Well, I’ve actually developed a little bit of a craving for figs, and I thought I’d see for myself if you have some here.”

Maria’s expression turns apologetic. “Ah, about that…we had some figs earlier in the season, but they’ve been picked already. I’m afraid there aren’t any left.”

You furrow your brow, unable to hide your disappointment. “Oh, that’s a shame. I was really hoping to get some. Maybe next season, then.”

Maria pats your shoulder sympathetically, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “I’m sorry, dear. I remember the irresistible cravings I had with my son. I wanted cheeseburgers and chocolate, nothing else. It got so bad at some point that I’d keep chocolate bars hidden in my desk at work.”

She laughs and you smile at her, thankful that she’s sharing such a personal part of her past with you. “But hey, how about I send Tommy out to check the storage? We might have some preserved ones left. Not as good as fresh, but it’s something.”

You appreciate her thoughtfulness, “That would be wonderful, Maria. Thank you. And, well, even without figs, being here and seeing all of this…it’s really comforting.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Maria smiles at you. “This greenhouse is a sanctuary for all of us. And you, my dear—my dears, are always welcome here.”

– – –

The soft hum of your voice fills the cozy kitchen as you chop vegetables with honed precision. The scent of fresh produce lingers in the air, intermingling with the delicious aroma of bread and the subtle hint of bacon from the fridge. Maria’s precious gifts have transformed your modest kitchen into a haven of warmth and abundance.

As you lose yourself in the meditative act of cooking, the front door creaks open, and the familiar, comforting presence of Joel announces his return from patrol. A smile tugs at your lips, anticipation and joy bubbling within you. Before you can turn around, strong arms wrap around you from behind, and Joel’s beard tickles your neck as he presses a gentle kiss on your skin.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Miss me?”

“Always,” you reply, setting down the knife to lean back into his embrace. The scent of leather, gunpowder, and…Joel envelops you, a fragrance that feels like home. His deep chuckle reverberates through his chest, and you revel in the simple pleasure of being close to him.

“Is that so?” he murmurs against your neck between kisses, his hands caressing your belly.

“Mmm, always.”

“I should probably shower first,” he whispers in your ear, but you turn around in his arms and protest with a playful pout.

“No, I love how you smell after patrol,” you confess, earning another chuckle from him. “It reminds me of how you smelled when we met, you know. It, uh, it makes me feel at home.” 

Joel tightens his grip around you, his laughter turning into a soft hum of contentment. He leans in for a tender kiss, squeezing your sides affectionately before flattening his hands over your spine. You inhale deeply, savoring his comforting scent, and relish the warmth of his touch.

When you open your eyes again, you find Joel looking at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised. With a sigh and a playful roll of your eyes, you relent, begrudgingly agreeing that he can go take a quick shower. He smiles at your response, promises to be back shortly, kisses you on the cheek, and heads to the bathroom.

In his absence, you continue preparing dinner, the rhythmic sounds of chopping and sizzling creating a soothing backdrop.

“You’re gonna love this stew,” you whisper to your baby, a gentle smile playing on your lips. “Your dad taught me how to make it. He would always cook it for your sister before the outbreak, you know. It’s a family recipe.”

You sigh, your hand gently rubbing your belly as you imagine a younger Joel standing at the stove, giving little Sarah the spoon to taste the stew.

How you wish the world hadn’t been so cruel to them. 

Joel returns in fresh clothes, his damp hair combed back, the scent of soap lingering in the air. For a brief moment, he stands there, simply looking at you, his expression one of admiration and love for you and the life you two created. You glance over your shoulder, catching his eye.

“Hey there, handsome,” you say, and he steps closer, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. His fingers trace delicate patterns on your back, creating a comforting rhythm that matches the steady beat of your heart.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, his voice a low murmur filled with warmth. “I’ve seen a lot in my life, but nothin’ comes close to your beauty.” He leans in and presses a lingering kiss on your cheek.

“And I’m not just sayin’ that because you’re carryin’ my baby…even though I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t very much enjoyin’ this,” he murmurs into your ear, his warm hands wandering up your belly. “And these,” he goes on between nibbles on your earlobe as his hands find your breasts, “these are just an added bonus to the beauty you already possess.”

You moan softly and pull him into an urgent kiss as you can’t resist your craving for Joel any longer.

“We got twenty minutes,” you whisper against his lips as your fingers fumble with the button of his jeans. 

“I can work with that,” he grins.

– – –  

After a filling dinner, exhaustion slowly begins to settle in, and you find solace on the couch. Joel, ever attentive, sits beside you, offering a gentle foot massage to ease the day’s strain. Wrapped in the cozy blanket he knit for you, the tender gesture elicits a contented sigh from you. 

He looks into your bleary eyes, searching for something more, something unspoken. “You sure there’s nothin’ else I can do for you, darlin’?” he asks, his voice soft but probing. 

You give him a tired smile. “I’ve got everything I need right here, Joel. Thank you.”

“Hmm, that’s a shame,” he murmurs, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I got all these figs from Tommy, but if you don’t want them, I’ll give them ba–”

“Wait, you got figs?” Your eyes light up with pure excitement as you swiftly sit up on your elbows, genuine joy bubbling in your voice.

“Yeah,” Joel chuckles, giving your feet a gentle squeeze before getting up. “I’ll be back in a minute, sweetheart.” 

He returns with a plate filled with halved figs, and your heart skips a beat at the sight.

“This,” he says, offering you one of the fruits, “is for you, my love.” Gently, he brings it to your lips, and the taste is nothing short of pure bliss. You can’t help but beam at him, overflowing with love and gratitude.

“These are amazing,” you say between bites, savoring each moment. “They’re even better than in my dreams.”

You urge Joel to join in, sharing the figs with him like you’ve shared everything in your lives since he found you all this time ago. As you enjoy the sweet fruit together, your baby begins to kick, and you burst into laughter.

“Looks like you’ve made our little one very happy,” you say, placing Joel’s hand on your belly so he can feel. Joel grins, his eyes sparkling with affection.

“Well, little one, I’m glad I could make you and your mommy happy. It’s what you do for the people you love, you know?” He leans down, his lips brushing against your belly. “You hear that, kiddo? I love you, and I love your mommy. And that’s why I’ll always be here for you two, doin’ my best to make you happy.”

– – –

Thank you for reading!! 🤍 -> keep you warm -> never felt so loved -> masterlist

[yourprettylildoe]

Drabble about pregnancy life with Jeremy?

Or like tidbits about life with children with him?

Girl I luv how you write Jeremy. Call me mental, but there’s just something that tickles my brain just right when a man is a ✨benevolent sexist piece of shit✨ Get me a man who enjoys taking care of me, and thanks me for staying inside the house 😩

I KNOW RIGHT!!! It's so satisfying, like when they're so condescending about it too and forcing you to the old-fashioned lifestyle. (Let's be mental together).

𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓰𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓃𝓉

Yandere!farmer x pregnant!reader

♡︎

Now that Jeremy had you in his grasp, his life was nearly complete.

Nearly.

He longed for mini-sized, chubby versions of you and him, running around the house. Imagining the sight of your swollen belly was enough to make him buzzing with excitement. Not to mention there isn't a problem good old pregnancy can't fix, like accustoming to your new life.

Perhaps then you'd accept the new reality now that you'd be chasing babies in diapers instead of silly, dangeroue dreams?

The only catch is — it'd be a funny little surprise. You didn't need to waste your sweet voice whining about how you really didn't want this.

Poor darling. Who convinced you that you knew your own good?

So, Jeremy got to work.

♡

Dim light illuminated the room as Jeremy flickered on the light as soon as your pitter-patter steps pounded against the wooden floor.

"Baby?" He drawled, rubbing his eyes before they went wide at the sound of gagging from the bathroom.

A wide, sinister grew on his lips as he walked over and reached you, tutting with faux concern as he held back your hair and rubbed your back.

Sniffling, you peered up at those puppy hazel eyes that could do no wrong. He cooed, rubbing a stray tear before hauling you up from under your arms and planting you onto the counter.

Large hands placed themselves onto your thighs, rubbing up and down soothingly. "Oh, my darlin'. You've been so tired these days from all sickness."

"Don't know why," you murmured, eyes droopy from exhaustion and making his heart flutter even more.

Oh, how he played the perfect role of a worried man for his girl and how she suddenly got thrown under the weather. It was so sudden and unexpected.

Jeremy purred contently, "this has been going on for so long. It can't just be a little cold, right?" His fingers reached up to rub her cheeks, "...right?"

Slowly nodding, you watched him rummage through the cabinet before pulling out a box. A...pregnancy test?

Amidst your daze, he explained that it was just to make sure eveeything's okay and that nothing was wrong. You were too dizzy and sleepy to question why such an object was conveniently there at the right time. You just slurred, "But i'm not pregnant."

He concurred patronisingly, his tone contradicting, "Of course you aren't."

Soon, he left to give you some privacy or maybe just time to deal with the sickening truth that was about to crash down on you.

A sigh escapes your lips. Maybe after this, you would find nothing and go back to bed to sleep till he woke you up for the dreaded chores. Lazily, you lifted up the little bar and not expecting much.

Two lines.

Your eyes went wide, shaking off any sign of previous drowsiness. Shaky, clammy fingers clenched around the object.

Two lines.

From where Jeremy leaned against the door outside, he could only hear silence.

That was before the big scream came.

In an instant, he was inside the bathroom, kneeling from where you sat on the floor, cupping your teary cheeks and shushing you.

Uncontrollable wails left your quivering lips. It wasn't on your checklist to move from the lively capital to a farm, let alone have a baby.

After all, you were a party animal back there. Every day, you were out and about, living life to the fullest so recklessly like any girl who was living in her prime.

And now you were pregnant? Things weren't on your side.

"I don't understand! I'm," hic "always careful and taking the pill."

Silly little you didn't need to know those weren't what you thought they were.

He shushed softly, "Oh, baby, it was bound to happen anyway. Besides, ya want this, I want this. Our baby will be beautiful."

"No, I don't want this!" You whined, cheeks and lips red with tears.

"Of course you do, honey," he smiled, kissing your forehead as if what you voiced was completely inaccurate. "Ya wanna be a mommy to our kid, and you will be so, so great." Your head nestler against his chest, you were still blubbering nonsense but it was blocked out for now.

♡

Like a switch, everything changed.

Throughout the whole pregnancy, you weren't allowed to lift a finger. Craving something unusual? Jeremy's already in the kitchen after abandoning the poor labour he was doing outside.

Want to take a walk? Oh, love, why do that when your strong man could do carry you like a princess.

Want to design the nursery? It's all yours. He's practically basking in the scent of all those baby products.

Despite your protests, he didn't back down from the matter of your diet. You needed all the nutrients you could get, even if you did complain that you would get chubby. You're so adorable — he loves you in all forms, but some food would really help you and the baby.

His eyes glowed with happiness when he ogled at your swollen bump from under your sundress. A sign of your love, your bond together. Motherhood was a good look on you.

Running his hands up your body, he pressed insistent kisses all over your skin, feeling the fluttering kicks.

Jeremy held up your stomach between his feather-light touches, almost as if it were a jewel, which it was.

"Daddy loves you and mommy so much," he spoke to his child, "there isn't anything I won't do for ya both. Just don't move around too much, precious. Mama is tired and she's gotta sleep."

You assumed you had the upper hand, but when you'd cry because of your stupid hormones, he would just make you feel so safe and tingly, msking you bury your face in his warmth.

Darlin', you ain't getting your way outta this anytime soon.

♡

After birthing a precious and healthy little girl, Jer is quite literally over the moon.

The sight of you fussing over your daughter makes him smirk triumphantly, he won the little battle of getting you to adapt to your new life.

"I'm so proud of ya, my lovely."

He kisses your forehead, gazing into your tired eyes post-labour.

"You've given me such a great gift. I love you baby."

The babygirl would have curls just like her papa and big eyes full of curiosity for the surroundings that's so similar to yours. He fell in love all over again.

He's spoil her rotten for the rest of her life and get her anyrhing she wanted with a bat of an eye, all while praising you and cuddling with you loads. After all, he obviously wouldn't forget about his favourite.

But don't you worry.

Another will be on the way soon with the months passing.

Did he mention he wanted, no, needed a big family? It's his dream. Even if you pouted a little at the thought, it's no biggie. He didn't take your advice previously and now's he's got a lovely bundle of joy nestling in her crib. Might take your word for it. He won't.

A son with messy hair and the cutest smile wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

Oh, just the sight of you cooking in the kitchen, eager little toddlers babbling at your feet while Jeremy hugged and doted on you was so right. So perfect. So his. So away from everything filthy.

The farm was never so vibrant as he played with his children.

Even if you were caught longing at reminders of your old life, he'd remind you that "being away from all these useless things was best for your happy little family."

Long forgotten were the days of partying. After all, a girl like you was so lost till he led you.

It all did work out in the end, with you being his domestic spouse and the mother of his children.

Just like how it was supposed to be.

♡

-I had so much fun playing around with the concept. It was so cuteeeee.

𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎

@yourprettylildoe

[starmocha]

Remember when I said the Grassland!Sylus childhood friends/arranged marriage/soulmates AU was at around 4.6k words?

she grew and I still have like three scenes I need to finish writing, but instead of doing that, I kept writing new scenes and...I think I lost control of the story and my life (╥_╥)

So I'm posting another snippet, because...my brain is tired and I really, really, really want to finish this by Sunday because I have another AU wip that I'm also obsessed with I mean I need to finish part 3 of that other Sylus breeding kink fic I promise it's coming

Reminder that this story will include light breeding kink, pregnancy kink, smut, body worship, gratuitous usages of terms of endearment ("my bride" and "my beloved"), Sylus being grossly in love with you, basically lots of fluff. Anyhoo...

The following morning you were lazing in the field as the flock of sheep grazed peacefully all around you. The warm sunlight had you yawning, already feeling yourself being lured by the tempting sun into drifting back to sleep. As the time passed, your eyes felt heavier, and you nodded off a little. Another yawn escaped before you decided a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt. Slowly, you closed your eyes, letting them rest for a few minutes. “Is this what you do when I’m not here?” You immediately opened your eyes when you heard Sylus’ approaching voice. You let out a soft surprised squeak when he knelt down next to you, his face looming just mere inches from yours. He was smirking. “Lazing around and sleeping? What if your sheep gets stolen by wild beasts, my beloved?” You glared at him. “I was not sleeping. I…was blinking.” “Your eyes were closed for far longer than a blink should be.” “I had some dust in my eyes.” “I’m quite sure I heard you snoring.” You blushed and shoved his face aside, glowering when he started laughing at you. “Did you come all the way out here just to tease me?” “Mmhmm,” he answered with a pleased nod as he sat back with his legs propped up. His elbow rested on top of his leg while he cradled his chin in his hand. You noticed in his other hand was a wreath crafted from leaves and berries. Your heart quickened and you gasped softly. You looked at him expectantly. It was at that moment that you noticed the dark bags under his eyes. You crawled over to him and he sat back, allowing you to settle in between his long legs. You reached up and touched his face. “Did you not sleep last night?” you asked him worriedly. He simply smiled and shook his head. Without a word, Sylus placed the wreath on top of your head. You reached up and touched it tentatively as you looked at him confused. “I wanted to finish this for you,” he explained, smiling, “Just as I had thought. This suits you.” “R-really?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed again, nodding. He leaned in to steal your lips. “You look beautiful.” “Sylus…” You could feel your cheeks warming up as he spoke. “Now everyone will know you are mine and I am yours.” You felt touched by his gesture. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck, surprising him into losing his balance. Sylus laid on the grass with you on top of him. You grinned and kissed him happily. He looked up, gasping softly when he saw the sunlight had formed a radiant halo behind your head. How…ethereal... He smiled, his hand gently grasped your chin, his thumb brushing over your soft, trembling lips. “We are already promised to one another,” he said, “but if I may be presumptuous, I would still like to ask.” You looked down at him confused. “My beloved,” he said, voice soft and sincere, “will you be my bride?” You stroked his cheek, and as you leaned down closer to his face, your wreath tilted on your head. “What do you think?” He smiled. “Your wreath is going to fall off.” “You’ll put it back on for me, right?” He huffed in amusement at your audacious question, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, reaching up to fix the wreath for you, “I will…my bride.” For that brief moment, you felt like your heart had stopped, and then you smiled again as you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close to his body. “This is my vow to you, my bride” he said, “There is only you in my eyes. In this life and all of the lifetimes afterwards, I will always choose you.” “Same for me,” you answered, gazing back at him fondly. You stroked his cheek, letting yourself drown in those passionate crimson eyes. “I will always find you,” you promised, “In all of our lives together, I will always find you and choose you, my love.” Your ardent words beckoned his lips to yours, and for the rest of the day, you lay together under the warm morning sun on the grassland, lost in your own world of bliss.

[merakiui]

[✎] twisted wonderland masterlist

✿ = nsfw ❀ = sfw ⭑ = yandere ✼ = brain rot (often short drabbles)

a collection of my written works. it will be updated frequently.

ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱʟᴀʙʏᴜʟ

riddle ➳ love me not ⭑❀ ➳ tutor riddle ⭑✿✼ ➳ riddle hits you with his car ⭑✼ ➳ goldfish mer ⭑✼ ➳ more goldfish mer ⭑✿✼ ➳ accidental pregnancy ✼✿ ➳ boyfriend ⭑✿ ➳ getting off to your notes ⭑✿ ➳ fairy-tale felicity ⭑✿ ➳ the birds and the bees ⭑✿ ➳ promising young man ⭑✿ ➳ moros's looking glass ⭑

trey ➳ single father ⭑✼ ➳ everything is going to be okay ⭑

cater ➳ step-brother cater ⭑✼

ace  ➳ to be added.

deuce ➳ to be added.

ꜱᴀᴠᴀɴᴀᴄʟᴀᴡ

leona ➳ to be added.

ruggie ➳ accidental pregnancy ✼✿

jack ➳ to be added.

ᴏᴄᴛᴀᴠɪɴᴇʟʟᴇ

azul ➳ sea glass ⭑❀ ➳ childhood crush ⭑❀ ➳ princess au ⭑✿ ➳ ceo azul ⭑✿ ➳ contractual fwb ⭑✿ ➳ preferences ✼✿ ➳ magicord mod ⭑✿✼ ➳ stalker ex ⭑✼ ➳ maid outfit ⭑✿ ➳ vampire ⭑✼ ➳ clingy, codependent boyfriend ⭑✼ ➳ professor ashengrotto ⭑✿ ➳ ob-gyn azul ⭑✿ ➳ camboy azul ⭑✿ ➳ in captivity ⭑✿ ➳ his blueberry eyes (anagapesis in paradise) ⭑ ➳ long-distance love ⭑✿ ➳ simply business ⭑✿ ➳ maybe, i'm afraid ✿ ➳ タコの花嫁 ⭑✿ ➳ risky rascality (tsum sex) ✿ ➳ perverse phantasmagoria: a tentacular theatre for the timid ⭑✿ ➳ angels in tibet ⭑✿ ➳ angel/angler ⭑✿ ➳ there is a knock at your door ⭑

jade ➳ sea glass ⭑❀ ➳ obsessive fan ⭑✿ ➳ preferences ✼✿ ➳ alpha stalker ⭑✿ ➳ android ⭑✿ ➳ stalker ex ⭑✼ ➳ maid outfit ⭑✿ ➳ in captivity ⭑✿ ➳ non-con thoughts ⭑✿ ➳ death row undertow ⭑✿ ➳ monops's reflection ⭑✿ ➳ the most dangerous game [1] [2] ⭑✿ ➳ RABU ⭑✿ ➳ winter woes ⭑✿ ➳ the symptoms of being human ❀ ➳ there is a knock at your door ⭑

floyd ➳ sea glass ⭑❀ ➳ obsessive fan ⭑✿ ➳ preferences ✼✿ ➳ stalker ex ⭑✼ ➳ alpha prince ✿ ➳ serial killer ⭑ ➳ maid outfit ⭑✿ ➳ fluffy floyd & captivity ⭑ ➳ scummy, sleazy floyd ✿ ➳ in captivity ⭑✿ ➳ in captivity (omegaverse) ⭑✿ ➳ ebb and flow ⭑✿ ➳ 애인 in anthill ❀ ➳ chemic ✿ ➳ there is a knock at your door ⭑

ꜱᴄᴀʀᴀʙɪᴀ

kalim ➳ to be added.

jamil ➳ to be added.

ᴘᴏᴍᴇꜰɪᴏʀᴇ

vil ➳ to be added.

rook ➳ 11:11 — sugar dew sewn anew ⭑

epel ➳ to be added.

ɪɢɴɪʜʏᴅᴇ

idia ➳ changing alpha to omega ⭑✿ ➳ conditioning ⭑✿ ➳ magic dildo ✿

ᴅɪᴀꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀ

malleus ➳ 100% ⭑ ➳ never-ending noctuary; love forevermore ⭑✿

lilia ➳ general & his spoil of war ⭑✼

silver ➳ to be added.

sebek ➳ to be added.

miscellaneous writings ➳ incubus au ⭑✼ ➳ reverse isekai ⭑✼ ➳ apocalypse au ⭑ other writings for this au can be found under the tag twst apocalypse au. ➳ apocalypse au index ⭑ ➳ yandere tsum tsums ⭑ ➳ virginification concepts ✿

rollo flamme ➳ eden ⭑✿ ➳ crow & goat in courtship ⭑✿ ➳ pearl of scarlet, shed of innocence ⭑✿ ➳ terror in threes ⭑✿

fellow honest ➳ terror in threes ⭑✿

skully j. graves ➳ thing ⭑ ➳ terror in threes ⭑✿

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Can you write a Wednesday day one where Wednesday finds out the reader is pregnant.

You've always dreamed of having children, one or three, maybe four; it was when you were older, long into your 20s, and certainly not impregnated by the local town freak, Wednesday Addams, your kidnapper.

It wasn't all bad..you were kidnapped and forced into a marriage. That much was true; however, he proved himself to be a great husband. On days when you woke up tired and depressed because of your situation, he'd bring you homemade breakfast and leave you to eat and mourn your past life. Days you were enraged with him and being taken away from everything you never knew, he'd hold you, taking every curse and hit as he held you to his firm chest until your frustrated tears came to a stop.

And when the creepy mansion is too claustrophobic for you, he would take you on a walk around graves littered behind the mansion, and it's always ending the same, slow dancing under the moonlight. He was romantic in his way, and his love for shown past his nonchalant words and stoic expression. Still were you ready for this? Did Wednesday want kids? You didn't think so; the times he told you he did not believe in love until he met you speak volumes of what he might think about having children. Would he feel nothing for your baby? Would he be disgusted at you for getting pregnant? You shook your head, threw the positive pregnancy test in the trash by the sink, and left the bedroom. You need time to yourself.

Wednesday prided himself on being superior to his peers. For being observant, and more intelligent. Yet when his eyes locked on the small, pink hideous trash can he allowed, where a pregnancy test glared at him. His brain shut off, and for the third time in his life, Wednesday was speechless.

You were sitting next to the large window, looking up at the clear blue sky, and listening to the company of birds chip their songs when Wednesday came to you, a weird look on his face, which was slightly concerning. Was he smiling?

"Umm hey? What's up?" You asked, eyeing him. "I'm gonna be a father. Mi alma. We're gonna be a family." He walked closer to you, "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked now standing in front of you. Shit, "I didn't know how you'd react-" You were pulled into his firm embrace. "Thank you..you give my life more meaning" he whispered, hugging you tightly. You sighed and hugged him back.

Well, you got your answer..and maybe, it could work.

[minhosimthings]

In Love with a Stripper

Request: hiiii! I love your work and I came up with this smut with a plot thing so it'll be great if you write it! So basically sunghoon and you are fuck buddies and so hoons friend got him a stripper for his birthday and it was you bc you filled up for your friend on that day and yeah yk yk mean dom!hoon punishing yn OMG.

Pairings: Sunghoon × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, reader is a stripper, reader wears revealing clothes, dom!Sunghoon, fem!reader, degradation, oral (f receiving), anal sex, breeding kink, orgasm denial, p in v sex, unprotected sex (nope), swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mean dom Sunghoon, fluffy at the end, slight Heeseung × reader

A/N: alright I apologise this took so much time! I really didn't have any brain left in me to do shit so I had to stetch it out a bit. Thank you for the request anon! That's a nice kinky brain you got there! Also tagging @sumaneun-stars and @candewlsy because they deserve this after Mr Park's weverse selcas.

You never wanted to end up like this. In your entire life, you had never wanted to end up like this.

But here you were.

Fucking your 'best friend forever' while you were madly head over heels for him. But it was the Park Sunghoon, so you had no other choice. After all, the boss of a billion dollar company deserved more than a girl who danced in all the city's clubs. You could very egotistically say that you were basically a celebrity.

Sunghoon had often told you to give up dancing in the club and take up a dancing job somewhere, maybe even set up your own studio. But you had declined, dancing in the neon lighting and having whiskey by the lake, and then stripping off for Sunghoon's cock was more than enough for you. And while he never admitted it, he loved you to. But it wasn't allowed, it would never be, maybe he'd change the rules a bit for it to happen, but for now, it was just strolling off to your house every evening undercover and then jump under your covers. Perfect schedule wasn't it?

Until this faithful day.

"Minnie are you serious right now?" You put your glass onto the table, and stared daggers at the girl sitting in front of you.

"Come on babe, pleeease?" She pouted at you, making the cute face you knew you couldn't resist. Minnie was a lioness when it came to dancing but when it came to you? She was a cub.

"How about Miyeon?" You asked, pressing a finger to your temple. You were stressed today, and now with Minnie's news of her sudden departure and her inability to find someone else to cover her shift added to that stress.

"Nah she's booked for the Banhgs today. They're having some party for their cousin."

"Ugh fine but you owe me." You took another sip of your drink as Minnie excitedly clapped her hands and thanked you in a verbose manner.

"Yeah yeah I know I'm your saviour and all." You rolled your eyes and smiled at her, "Who's the shift for?"

"Uh it's for-" Minnie picked out a paper from her pocket which seemed to be an invite, "A Mr Lee Heeseung. He booked it for a quote unquote 'Park Sunghoon is turning old' party."

The only thing the other people in the bar heard probably for the rest of their life was Minnie's loud scream as you spat out your drink onto the table.

"Bitch what the fuck!?" She whisper shouted to you, diverting the attention of the other bar patrons from you.

"Minnie, I'm begging you, I'll bow at your feet, but not Park Sunghoon's party."

Minnie threw you a weird look and slid her paper across the table to you. No one knew what was happening between you and Sunghoon.

"Yeah no you're doing it, you agreed no take backs!"

And that was how you ended up in the back dressing rooms of one of the most glamorous clubs of Seoul, dressed in something you wouldn't have normally worn, but since it was Sunghoon, you decided to give him a bit extra considering the huge pay you were getting. It turned out that Minnie was actually a special book, carefully picked out by Heeseung, whom you knew you to one of Sunghoon's closest friends. But he didn't know about you, so you were thankful that he accepted you as a replacement when Minnie went out. And of course Sunghoon didn't know you were going to be coming either since Heeseung had specified that you were a top secret, extra gift. Playboys, you scoffed, always thinking women were objects they could play with, although a part of your mind said Sunghoon wasn't like that. Who were you kidding? He was the embodiment of that.

From behind your curtain, you could hear Sunghoon's melodious laughter echo throughout the club. Just get it over with, you thought, just get it the fuck over with.

"And now, our dearest Hoonie, we have a gift for you." Heeseung could be heard saying on the other side of the curtain. You could also distinctively hear Sunghoon, Jake and Jay giggling like idiots.

"Ta Da!" The curtain flew open at Heeseung's words and Sunghoon's face fell flat.

You.

It couldn't be, was this a dream?, his thoughts ran wild, as Jake let out a sound of delight.

But you never danced at this specific club, Sunghoon thought. He knew most of the clubs you danced at, and this one was definetly not on the list.

"Dude, you good?" Jay nudged Sunghoon's arm as Jake and Heeseung made their way closer to the bar on top of which you'd give them a show they'll always remember. Heeseung had thought nothing of Sunghoon's reaction, he knew his friend well enough to understand when Sunghoon was shocked out of delight.

"Y-yeah I'm good thanks." Sunghoon answered, not taking his eyes off of the heaven in front of him. God you were looking extra attractive today. Perhaps it was the dress, or maybe the hair, or maybe the fact that you were dancing for him, for the first time.

Sunghoon moved a bit forward and sat directly in front of you, your legs dancing in front of him. If heaven's incarnate existed as a stripper, it would have been you, Sunghoon thought, as he looked up at your eyes, darkened and hooded like a cat's. Your hips seemed to have the universe on a belt, as they moved in synchronisation with the atmosphere. Sunghoon wanted nothing more but to brag that he had seen what was inside of the outfit you were wearing, as he heard Heeseung and Jake making comments on your waist.

"Nuh uh you can look don't touch." You bent down to Heeseung's level, his hand slowly retreating from your legs.

"Can I dance with you then?" Heeseung smirked at you. Although you never admitted it, you had always found Heeseung hot. The bastards smirk combined with his pretty eyes made you have a tiny bit of an urge to fuck him atleast once.

"Is the birthday boy not enjoying my performance?" You directed your eyes at Sunghoon, who widened his eyes to an almost comic level, "Or maybe he wants to join?"

You knew doing whatever you were doing right now would have it's consequences but boy were you enjoying teasing Sunghoon right now.

"Heeseung hyung can go first." Sunghoon leant back on his chair, spreading his legs a bit further. He gave you a cocky grin, one you knew way too well for it not to say 'you're going to be punished.'

You carefully tread down the platform onto the ground, with the support of Heeseung's very soft hands (you kept the thought of asking him what hand cream he used to yourself), your hips jutted against his. Yes this was not according to the job, to be grinding against a customer, but it wouldn't matter if one of the customers was the man you had inside you every night was it?

"God you're hot." Heeseung whispered in your ear, his hips moving in sync with yours, "You single?"

"Somewhat." You replied, throwing your arms onto Heeseung's neck. Jay and Jake had found other people to dance with too, and you couldn't spot Sunghoon anywhere.

"Where's Sunghoon?" You asked Heeseung, peeking over his shoulder, which made him raise a brow at you. God Heeseung smelled good too. Not as well as Sunghoon's pine cologne but this was fine.

"You know him well?" Heeseung asked with a smirk on his face, which made you laugh and shake your head. His crotch was now grinding against your clothed pussy, but you didn't budge.

"We know each other, like a bit. Why you want to steal me from him?"

"Your friend Minnie," Heeseung started, his arms squeezing your waist tighter, "She has another date with her boyfriend tonight. Oh yeah her boyfriend? It's me."

Your gasp was probably heard throughout the entire club. "Shut the fuck up absolute no way!" You laughed, looking at Heeseung's amused face, "The bitch never told me!"

"Well it's a secret." Heeseung shrugged his shoulders, "So can I know your secret now?"

"Hyung can I have a piece of her now?"

Before you could even open your mouth, Sunghoon's voice ran behind you, and as you spun around on your heel, there he was. Looking like the angriest man on earth.

"Sure she's all yours." Heeseung let go of your waist, "I'll see you then, pretty."

You were thankful that Sunghoon didn't hear Heeseung's last words which he carefully whispered into your ear.

"Try to stay alive."

"So you like Heeseung hyung huh doll?" Sunghoon cocked his head to the right, loosening his tie from the grasp it had on his neck.

Fuck he looked hot in dim lighting, you thought. You were surprised when Sunghoon didn't say anything to you at the club nor in the car when he took you home. It was...weird, to have him talk so casually with you, as if you were husband and wife, not even a tint of anger in his voice.

But as soon as you stepped foot in the house, you learnt why he did that. The touch of the cool metal of the handcuffs on your wrist made you wince as you tried to wriggle out of their grasp.

"So what if I do?" You spat, not looking at Sunghoon, "You never thought about telling me what I actually am to you so I thought I might look for..newer horizons."

"Oh yeah?" Sunghoon wore a cunning grin like an arctic fox ready to pounce on its prey, "Well we'll see about that later."

Bending down to your legs, Sunghoon spreads them further apart, his skin pressing against yours like hot iron. It was pathetic how the mere touch of his fingers made you whimper in pleasure.

Your cunt is already so wet, your folds swollen and muscles relaxed, ready and desperate for Sunghoon’s touch. He gently slides a finger into your entrance with little resistance. You clench around him as you search for his lips, which find yours instinctively. 

Sunghoon slides his finger out of you slowly. Your beloved was still mastering your body, but he always seemed to know when you were ready for more. As he slides a second finger into your entrance, he breaks your kisses, watching you as you take more of him. He pushes his long fingers into you until he is knuckles deep, which evolves your little whimpers into breathless moans.

Your wrists ached for the touch of his hair, his soft curls all tangled up between your fingers, but the handcuffs weren't allowing it. Your wriggling under Sunghoon's body made him chuckle.

"No can do baby." His eyes darkened, "Take my fingers like a good slut there we go."

Sunghoon watches as he unravels you with the curl of his fingers deep inside your cunt. Your eyes roll at the intense sensation, and you’re already seeing stars.

As Sunghoon is hitting that sweet spot deep within you, his thumb begins to circle your clit, causing your eyes to go wide as carnal pleasure possesses you. 

Suddenly, Sunghoon pulls out his fingers from you slowly, watching your needy expression with a smirk.

"You really think you can cum on my fingers after all you've done?" Sunghoon asks you, his fingers still lingering over your labia, you realised that your cunt was clenching around nothing even when he pulled out, "Whose slut are you now?"

You were confused as to whether or not you should give him an answer or not so you gave him a quizzed look, which he seemed to definetly not like.

"No answer? Tch tch." He clicked his tongue, "Answer me slut, and I'll think about letting those cuffs off."

He leaned forward and stared into your eyes with darkened eyes. "Whose fucking slut are you?"

"Y-Yours Daddy."

"Louder."

"Your- Ah fuck!" You let out a whimper of pleasure as his bulge rubbed over your pussy. Sunghoon reached over and carefully removed your cuffs. You let out a sigh, feeling satisfaction wash over you at the retreat of the col metal.

"Turn over," he said while pulling away, "all fours baby."

You followed his demands and pressed your face into the pillow, facing the side of the room where a large mirror sat, you watched him in the mirror as he pulled his sweats down letting them rest below his thighs, followed by his boxers. His cock sprung out hitting the fabric of his shirt, causing him to let out a hiss through his teeth. His tip red and needy, leaking with precum.

"try and be quiet." Sunghoon said while rubbing you lower back with his hands. You hummed in response while still watching him in the mirror as he lazily tugged on his cock before lining it up with your entrance, rubbing it up and down your slit, collecting your arousal before placing his tip into you.

Quiet moans and curses left his mouth as your ass bounced off his pelvis, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

With every grind and suckle on your clit you were getting closer and closer to coming. It was a wet and filthy experience, your arousal dripping down Sunghoon’s chin and soaking his face. You could feel it down your thighs, his chin scratching against your delicate skin with every jaw movement, every grind. 

You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs as he picked his pace up, your eyes having no place to go but the back of my head. You both gave up on being quiet a while ago, more whimpers and groans filled the room.

“mmh, s-so close.” you moaned pathetically while gripping onto the pillow. You felt a sort of shame, feeling this good because of Sunghoon, who, at the moment, you were supposed to hate with all of your heart.

Wth one quick movement he pulled out and flipped you over, his eyes now locked onto yours.

"No cumming until I say so got it?" He growled in your ear, strands of his hair falling onto his face, making him look celestial. Not having the strength to answer him back, you whimpered, feeling his tip at your pussy.

“Say it.” He murmured, squeezing his fingers on the side of your neck to make it all woozy. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“I want your cock… Daddy… please.”

You’re such a whore, the way you gasp at all the right times as his big cock stretches around your tight walls. He bets you’ve taken cock hundreds of times, but he’s determined to be the best, making sure you know what you’re worth. No one else deserved you, only he deserved you. Now, and forever.

He’s really pounding you now, hands gripping roughly at your hips in an attempt to drive himself further into your cunt, watching as your pussy leaves a milky ring around his base. His hair strands dangle in his face as he bends down to shove himself deeper into you.

‘god, you’re taking me so well,’ he grunts, bucking his hips in pleasure. ‘such a fuckin’ whore though.’

"Nuh uh not yet baby not yet." He says, grinding his hips against you again. Your fingers are pulling at his curls again and you're hopelessly taking what he's giving to you.

"I wasn't—" One of his hands trails down to your wet cunt, rubbing your clit a few times before pinching it softly. Your whiny moans only encourage him, feeling you clench around his fat cock. He pulls out before slamming himself back into your tight hole, pinching your puffy clit even harder.

"you were made for me. you're my whore." he whispered in your ear, licking your jaw as he thrusted mercilessly into your holes.

The sounds of skin slapping, squelching, groaning, whimpering, and moaning were the only things you could hear. The occasional degrading things or sweet nothings Sunghoon would whisper into your ear made your brain go foggy.

"gonna fill you up good n’ proper..." he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and biting into your neck, "Want to have my kids hmm princess?"

"Ah fuck-fuck- a-ah." You moaned, not being able to answer his question.

Your legs wrapped around him letting him know that you were close. Sunghoon had an urge to pull out, to teach you a lesson. But something in him told him to let you cum in him, to let him make you a mother, his child's mother. Tears streamed down your eyes as the pressure in your stomach built up.

“Daddy—‘cummin” you moaned out. Sunghoon began to fuck you harder and faster. You felt the tip hit the plushy part in you. Your brain turned into mush and drool began to run down your mouth.

“Cum for me princess. I wanna hear you scream my name~” he said in such a sweet sultry voice.

The knot in your stomach snapped.

“SUNGHOON!”

“Cum with me, my darling.” Sunghoon whined with you, bringing his lips down to yours once again roughly. The moment his kiss was brought upon you, you felt like you exploded with pure bliss. Your legs shook against his arms again as you damn near screamed into his mouth. Sunghoon wasn't far behind you, moaning loudly into your own mouth as his cum spilled into you.

It wasn’t until after some time, when Sunghoon's cum was dripping against your walls, and his seed was flowing out of you that he pulled out. You were drooling, eyes rolled back and cum pooling on the bed.

Not saying a word to you, Sunghoon made his way off of the bed, and into the bathroom, where he quietly picked up all the stuff he knew you loved for aftercare.

"Hoonie..." You whined, feeling the empty space next to you, "I want to cuddle."

The sight of your pout melted Sunghoon's heart, and he couldn't resist. Cleaning you up quickly and lighting your favourite scented candle Sunghoon promptly jumped into bed and pulled you into his arms, his body heat successfully warming you up.

"I didn't hurt you did I?" Sunghoon asked you, looking down at you.

You simply nodded your head no and snuggled closer to him, sniffing in his cologne.

"Im sorry Y/N." Sunghoon sighed, positioning your face to his. His eyes were simply sparkling at you, and his expression seemed genuine.

"Im sorry for what I haven't said to you for so long." He breathed out, you could feel his heartbeat become quicker, "I love you, I really do, and-and I want us to be more than just friends."

"Why didn't you say so before you fucking idiot?" You giggled, pulling him in for a brief kiss, "I love you too."

"So, now you're my wife?"

"Girlfriend first Mr Casanova."

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆ Who Is This Diva✦

｡⁠☆Content: Izuku Midoriya BF headcanons

｡⁠☆Cw: a few uses of she/her, one singular pregnancy mention, no use of y/n, light cursing

✦ Always writing in that damn notebook, there is nothing you can say or do that won't end up there

✦ If you're creeped out by it, he will commit what you said to memory and write it down later

✦ The best gift giver. He notices everything about you. From your face to your body to your brain. All of his gifts are thoughtful

✦ Didn't know how to do his own hair until Mina showed him, however if you know how to do it he'll play dumb

"My hair... ? Y-Yeah, Mina normally helps me with it, b-but I seen you take care of your own so... Do you mind helping me instead ? Not that Mina isn't great, b-but she isn't you... Sorry, is that a weird thing to say ?"

✦ Sometimes YOU are the third wheel when Katsuki's around. Good luck with that.

✦ Nervous forever. Constantly apologizing. Trips over everything when you're around. His face is always bright red. Nervous talker for sure. Heaven forbid you compliment him, he might pass out on the spot

✦ He stays on Uraraka's phone. He needs advice before he does anything, especially if you're a girl. He used to take advice from Kaminari, and then he learned his lesson (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

"I-It's not sexist to assume she likes flowers just cause she's a girl right ?.... What ?! Of course I know that not all girls like flowers !! .... N-No way I can't just ask her. What if she thinks I'm weird" (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

✦ Doodles you everywhere. Aizawa is fed up with the scribbled pictures of you in all the corners of his homework. He's debating whether or not he should take point off his papers just to get him to stop. Mic and All Might think it's cute

✦ All this to say he is the sweetest ever. He makes sure to know every single thing about you, it borders on obsession. He follows you around like a lost puppy. His receiving love language is physical touch/quality time, and his giving love language is gift giving and acts of service

✦ Izuku is selfless to a fault, but when it comes to you he can't help but be selfish. No matter how much he gives to you, he feels justified because your love, affection, time, and attention, is the ultimate prize.

☆ PROHERO ☆

✦ Interviewers are tired of hearing about you. Any questions lead right back to what you're doing, something you've said, what you think, what you look like. It doesn't matter as long as it's about you

✦ Puts your needs first which can be really nice, but definitely neglects himself in the process. Like this man has chronic pain in his hands, but will stay up until ungodly hours giving himself carpal tunnel making something that you didn't even ask for just bc he knew you'd like it

✦ If you're not a prohero (hell, even if you are), Izuku is overprotective. His worst fear is you being taken from him in any sense of the word. Losing you isn't something he would ever get over

✦ Rarely ever yells, but when he does he sounds just like Katsuki. It's annoying how much like Katsuki he sounds. Otherwise though, he prefers to concede to whatever you want, the only time serious arguments occur is if it's about something like your safety

"Shouto, I'm gonna throw myself off a cliff... No she's not hurt she's perfectly fine don't even joke about that !!! .... The problem ? Shou she's so mad at me.... Don't look at me like that, I'm serious !"

✦ A sass monster. Rarely ever to your face, most of the time it's just a mutter under his breath that you barely catch but you just know he said something smart.

✦ If your first language isn't Japanese then trust and believe he's learning whatever your native tongue is. He has the cutest accent too. If he's feeling bold he'll use your lessons as an excuse to flirt with you, and after that there's a high chance you won't get anything done

✦ NOT a morning person. Clings to you and the bed like his life depends on it. Moaning and groaning in your ears about how mean you are to him, how could you make him get up for early morning patrol ? Death for 10 thousand years have been cursed upon him.

"Hmm ? I don' care 'bour the alarm. Turn it off... Where you goin' ? Noooo don' go shh i's okay, mhmm it snoozes itself. Jus' lay back down, yeah 'xactly baby.... Hmm ? Late ? Patrol ? OHMYGOD PATROL !!"

✦ Pet name extraordinaire. It takes a while until he finds his favorite, so he spends his time cycling through all types of sweet names. Anything from baby to darling to pookiebear to beautiful. He probably doesn't stray too far into weird names, but he dips his toes in if it feels right.

✦ Won't admit it, but he loves it when you flaunt him to your friends. Makes him feel like a big strong man, especially when you feel up his arms. His face flushes bright red and he tries to wave it off but he stutters so much that his sentence is barely distinguishable, but of course that only makes you want to do it more

✦ When you get married it's honestly been inevitable, especially if you met while in highschool. If it was only up to Izuku you would've been married within the month, but lucky for you he has self restraint. If you both want kids they truly won't be far behind marriage, and if you thought he was obsessive before just imagine if you get pregnant.

First post,, how exciting !! Not sure if I'm sticking with this format, but I think I like it. My blog is almost completely set up and I have a few reblogs so... My askbox is open if you so please (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Who f/w black Izuku like I do ?? 🗣️🗣️

｡⁠☆Requests open

[bunny-jpeg]

hi love, may i have some sourdough bread and coffee with max (in a sort of twisted, claiming my rival as mine way). thank you so much and more power to your bakery 💚

bakery menu

feel free to submit your own order! i am happily working away at the bakery! clockin' in those hours!! this prompt made me shove all other projects to the side. you literally picked at two of my faves, haha. like YEAH!! so i hope you love this, this was a pleasure to write (now back to my other projects)!

sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, driver!reader, filth (!!!), smoking, baby trapping, missionary

you sighed and looked over your shoulder, the cigarette still between your fingers, "are you going to keep staring, verstappen or are you going to come over here?"

he uncrossed his arms and went over. he plucked the cigarette out from your fingers and took a drag, "girls like you shouldn't smoke. not very feminine."

you took the cigarette back and looked at him, "oh maxie, if you wanted a girly girl, you watched the ship sail years ago. i used to punch your bullies."

he sighed. you were right. childhood friends to rivals on the track with a dash of friends with benefits or whatever label of the month you chose to define your relationship.

max knew one thing. he wanted to mark you inside and out. he wanted to make sure that you were his. to call what he felt for you love was to call an inferno a spark. as he watched you smoke, he thought about putting his lips on your neck. he wanted to dig his blunt teeth into your throat and watch it bloom purple.

he also wanted to fuck you over the balcony, letting whoever down below know exactly where you belonged. under him. he hated you ferrari as much as he hated you in alpine only two years earlier. he always thought you belonged with red bull, not as a driver, but as a wag.

lately something else had been curling inside of him like a snake about to strike. the rattle of its tail warning his brain that this was what got him going. you. pregnant. with his kid.

end your name's legacy on the track and replace it with his. make sure that your name doesn't end up on the track for a good while, while verstappen survives, if not thrives for a long time to come. if you can't beat a rival on the track, get 'em pregnant!

you stamped out your cigarette of the cement ledge of the balcony before you dropped the butt to the ground. you looked at max, "you're staring at me like i'm a four course meal. can't find someone to get your dick went tonight?"

he had been lying for some time about getting sex elsewhere. it was impossible to sleep with other women when he was thinking about you. he even tried to find women that looked like you but it never cut it.

he snaked an arm around you middle and press his nose into your hairline, "it's been a while since we.. got together. don't you think?"

you looked at him and smiled a little, "are you asking me for sex, mister verstappen?" you chuckled, "i think that breaks several rules." you made a face.

he looked around briefly before he pulled you in for a firm kiss. when he pulled away and said, "if no one knows, is it really rule breaking?" he knew you could never say no to him, so after qualifier when he found a key card to your hotel room in his driver's room, he knew that had scored.

the sex between you two was passionate. it was never a dull moment. when he let himself into your hotel room like he owned the place, you were naked drying off after a shower.

"you dog." you said as you dropped the towel and headed towards the bedroom portion of the hotel room. max followed behind like a happy little mutt with his cock straining in his jeans.

he began to undress when you got up onto the bed. he watched you sitting at the edge while he took his belt off and jeans. you admired his toned figure. he wasn't ugly.

you had seen every phase of max, you two have known each other for far too long. that added to the rush of it all. it would make sense to anyone on the outside that you two would end up together and have like five kids. but instead the games you played were wicked.

once he was naked, he got on top of you. his impressively sized cock rubbed against your sweet pussy. he could feel the wetness against his achy tip.

"i'm going to breed you." he said softly, his blue eyes bore into yours as he made sure to tighten your legs around him.

you chuckled, "yeah right, verstappen. i think your swimmers died like a million years ago from all the racing." you held onto the pillow under your head. your legs wrapped around him tightly.

he laughed, "fine, fine. i'm joking. i think you're right." he was playing it off cool as if he didn't feel like he was going to jump out his bones at the prospect of getting you stuffed fat with his cum.

you laughed, "you and your dirty talk, verstappen. you always talk about wifing me up and me having your children. like i'm going to retire from racing." you tensed up for a moment when he eventually sank his cock into your soaked pussy.

he fit like a glove, that was how he knew. it was like he molded your pussy for him. no other man could have you and he was going to make sure of that. when he was done with you, you'd be at least five percent dutch.

that'll give you enough to give your hefty sons nice, strong names. legacy names for the track. he rutted against you, heavy, strong strokes. his cock nudged inside of you as he planted his hands on either side of you.

"you look good like this." he said as he pressed himself against you. your soft, pretty tits pressed against his chest as he moved against you.

you were only going to get more beautiful with time. the thought excited him. knowing that he had marked you in such an intimate way, a way that no other driver could. you were his, it was as simple as that!

the idea of you having another rival (or partner) made his skin crawl. he knew you better than you knew yourself. he could predict your movements easily both on and off the track. as he bullied his cock into your sweet pussy, he knew that he was the right fit for you.

he pressed his nose into your neck and continued to thrust into you. your pussy was soft and wet for him. a warmth went through his body as he rocked against you.

"i want to breed you. make you my wife. keep you home with our family. you don't need to be on the track anymore. you've scored more points than any other woman. so, it's time to settle down. we'd make some strong racers." he panted and felt the sweat down his back as he thrust into you.

you held the back of his head and whispered in his ear, "you're a funny guy, verstappen. if you get me pregnant, that kid is getting my last name. and they'll be racing under my country's flag."

he smirked to himself against your neck. you say that now, but a lot can change with time. he dug his fists into the covers and picked up the pace. he loved being so close to you.

your heart close to his. it was almost intimate if it wasn't for the hateful filth that was coming out of your mouths.

"i want you always. i want to ruin you for other men. and i'll make sure that you're not sleeping with other guys." he knew a sure fire way to prevent that, hard to fuck other men when you're full of his child.

"max. you're fucking insane." you panted as you looked at him once more. he knew that you were feeling the height of pleasure, and that honestly made him harder.

that he made you this way.

"i'm fuckin' close."

"good, good. my good wife." he purred, which only made you more turned on. god, what a possessive little freak with the breeding kink!

you clutched onto him tightly and almost bit down on his neck as you came. it washed over you and you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed. then you continued to cling onto him like a lifeline.

he liked the feeling of that and soothed you with gentle words and kissed as he felt close to his own climax.

"max... c'mon. fuck." you moaned as you dug your pretty nails into his back.

he soon after cursed loudly as he slammed his cock into you, making sure you took every last inch. he wanted to make sure that he finished far enough into you that his cum didn't have anywhere else to go but into your womb.

that was his objective. he kissed you once more as he gave a few more thrusts. you moaned into the kiss and laid there under him, breathless.

he slowed down his thrusts to catch his breath. you were still clutching the covers under you. you looked amazing under him, he was right. it was where you belonged.

he placed both hands on your stomach and started to thrust once again. one orgasm wasn't going to cut it for him. if he was going to make you a verstappen, it meant making sure his dna stuck to your sweet pussy.

you'd eventually race on sunday with cum still staining your panties and a pray that no one would notice.

-

it was july now and the heat was getting unbearable. it didn't help that sitting on your hips was a six month pregnant belly. you had spent since may in the nice little sundresses that max had picked out for you.

he was painfully doting, making sure the mother of his child had anything she needed. after all, you retirement was sudden and early. such a strong driving career cut short.

"you look so good." he'd often say and his large hands spanned your swollen middle in the hopes to feel his son shifting around. you knew the asshole got off to this.

you were trying to teach your unborn child as much of your mother tongue as possible, while he'd curl up with our middle at night and speak dutch. when you tried to stop him, he simply pressed into you further.

even parenthood felt like a small rivalry.

max believed that he won the rivalry, he was about to championship that year after blood tests came back that you were pregnant. you could've killed him when you stomped out of the doctor's office and almost strangled him.

you'd hate to admit it, but there was a domesticity that you sort of liked. while you were still trying to find things to do post-driving, it was nice to be in one place at one time. what had felt like your entire life had been on planes going between tracks. the press didn't bother you as much once the news cycle of your pregnancy died down and you could just be you.

while you wanted to kill max still, even as he was snuggled up beside you on the couch, his arm draped over your bump, you honestly couldn't ask for a better baby daddy. you wouldn't let max have his victory in your little rivalry, even as the gold ring you wore gleamed in the afternoon light, you'd never admit to your husband that he had bested you. because the way you looked at it, since you shared the same last name, it was your trophy too. <3

[thetriumphantpanda]

two is better than one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?

Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N

Word Count | 3.8k

Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it. 

When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were. 

The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different. 

“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.” 

“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.” 

You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear. 

Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?” 

You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.” 

He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear. 

“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.” 

You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone. 

“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.” 

There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again. 

“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”

You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.” 

You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time? 

You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you. 

You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin. 

“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.” 

“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear. 

“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours. 

When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead. 

“Hello, darlin’.” 

You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you. 

“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?” 

“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.” 

You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?

You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head. 

You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval. 

“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.” 

Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance. 

Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.” 

“Just frustrating.” You mumble. 

“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?” 

Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed. 

Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.” 

You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair. 

“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice. 

Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face. 

You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth. 

As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out. 

“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.” 

He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips. 

Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.” 

Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue. 

You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.” 

All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t. 

You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him. 

“Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.” 

You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach. 

“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak. 

Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans. 

“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock. 

Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good. 

You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock. 

You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming. 

You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want. 

You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry. 

“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.” 

“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.” 

You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.” 

“She’s special, I’ll give you that.” 

It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time. 

“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you. 

You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat. 

“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.” 

He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you. 

“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.” 

As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you. 

You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin. 

“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?” 

“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.” 

“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?” 

“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.” 

“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.” 

He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?” 

“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.” 

His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?” 

That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.

You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin. 

Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you. 

“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.” 

“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.” 

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 12 (Pt 3 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 Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; tension; recollected memories of traumatic situations; memories of very self-destructive coping mechanisms used by a teenager; crying + feelings of sadness; self deprecation/worries of being a bad mother; mentions of a (very) toxic and absent mother; vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; jealous!reader; possessive!jake; pregnancy hormones of multiple variety; INFIDELITY; (intense) phone sex; self-pleasure m!receiving; self-pleasure f!receiving; loooots of dirty talk that is absolutely 18+ (!!!!); elsie + josh being our voices; mentions/talk of being unable to have children; evil evil evil inner monologue via maya (i'm sorry - it had to happen); (((yes she's just as dreadful on the inside as you'd think))); massive amounts of (very negative + hateful) manipulation; BABY KICKS <3333; PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 12 (Part 3) Word Count: 47.6k+ (......um. yeah.... about that....)

a/n: ok. so. yeah. wednesday obviously hadn't been ~~the day~~ LMFAO. dear lord. IM V SORRY I AM ME <3 but, fr, has anyone on here ever struggled w migraines? how about w a brain stem aura? they last for days and make you move very slow + put you out of commission !!!! so fun !!!!

in all reality, this was supposed to be edited + uploaded in december... but, life.

i love you all and welcome to the delicious, official mid-point of this monstrous series <3 every single one of you mean the world to me. i hope you know that you reading and commenting and liking and messaging brings THE utmost joy to this woman's fragile heart :') thank u, my sweet loves. we're in this together. <3 "until the very end"

btw: these next few chapters will pick up right where the previous leaves off... that includes this one :)

as always, massive 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 - forever + ever. <3 additionally, a BIG OL thank u to @builtbybrokenbells. you are a queen whose throne is one to be bowed at. always. you'll never understand just how much your help + friendship means to me... in this silly story, other stories, and in LIFE. ily more, canadian me <3 an ever-present thanks to my girl @alwaysonthemend. Thank you, my love, for always being just around the corner when i need you. you're a personal favorite of mine + you know this <3 and finally, an ode to my wonderful pal @gretavangroupie... for helping me in the final revisions and edits when i release my cry for help. you are a true friend + i hope you know how much i appreciate u <3

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

Specific songs that accompany this chapter: “We Might Even Be Falling In Love” — Victoria Monet ft. Bryson Tiller; “We Might Even Be Falling In Love/Jaguar” — Victoria Monet + co. (orchestral arrangement); “Merry Christmas Baby” — Booker T. & the M.G.’s

Covet Masterlist

"We are ever striving after what is forbidden... and coveting what is denied us."

Ovid

December 23, 2022

After a short five hours of work, Elsie had been there at 8:00 on the dot to pick you up. 

Although, when she’d arrived, you’d still been checking out a few regular customers who’d stayed a little too close to closing time. Last minute Christmas shopping, of course. There was no way you were going to rush the customers. You’d even told Elsie she’d have to wait a bit. You cared for these regulars dearly, so you’d chosen to take your time. They were special to you and you were grateful to be able to wish them all a 'Happy Holidays'. 

You really appreciated the extra time catching up with these people. And almost all of them were dying to know how your pregnancy was faring and you didn’t hesitate on filling them in and showing them the sonogram pictures on your phone. It meant a lot to you that these sweet people cared so much. They’d made up so many of your working days for the past four years, permanently creating a home in your heart. 

And, the last of the stragglers had been none other than little brown-haired Stacy. The high school girl you and Josh and taken a liking to instantly – ironically, both of you being on the clock the first day she’d entered the store. She was a tender soul. A thin girl with freckles covering her heart-shaped face with glasses, just a smidgen too big for her petite features. Every pair she got, oversized in comparison to her slimness. Even as the other customers exited the store with one more ‘Merry Christmas, y/n!’, she’d continued to pick through bins. 

But, by the way she’d hunched over as soon as the bell had chimed to indicate the others' departure, you knew something wasn’t right. And then she’d rubbed at her eyes, making your heart break in your chest. You assumed she needed more time, hence her looking past the very last minute. Though, knowing the kind hearted girl like the back of your hand after knowing her for so long, you knew she felt bad for needing more time. So, you’d urged her to continue browsing. There was an innate need in your chest to make sure she was okay and wasn’t hurting any longer. You needed her to be okay. Especially this close to Christmas.

“Stacy, just hang around for a bit and keep looking,” you gently spurred her to not give up yet. “Take your time. I have plans with Josh and my sister, but those aren’t for another hour or so. You have time.”

“But–you’re pregnant, y/n. You need to be off your feet. You need to leave,” she tried, making her way to the front without anything in hand. Her shoulders, sunken and her posture telling that she definitely hadn’t been successful in her search for vinyl. “It’s not your fault I got off work so late, y/n. You need to rest for the baby.”

“The baby is fine,” you encouraged her with a gentle smile and a raised brow, making your way over, hands stuffed in the front pocket of Jake's hoodie to fight the cold air seeping into the older store on the chilly evening. Just as she’d made it to the door to leave, you met her there. Bringing one hand out of the pocket, you put a hand on her bicep, you spoke to her as she turned to face you. “Seriously. All is well, nice, and cozy in there and I didn’t even get here until late afternoon. I’m fine. The baby is fine. Now you need to be fine.”

She nipped at her bottom lip with worry, timidly glancing up at you. “Are you sure?” Yet, even after you nodded, she continued. “Because it’s also not your fault that the Black and Gold is closed tomorrow and the next day is Christmas, so why would you guys be opened on Christmas?" She said it all so fast, you knew she was on the verge of having a break down. You'd been there. "I should have planned better, y/n. I’m just really stressed right now and I–.”

“Stacy,” you interrupted her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders to squeeze them in reassurance. “It is o-kay, sister. Plus, if it makes you feel any better, we do have chairs behind the desk. If I need to sit, I can. You only have tonight to find your vinyls.” 

Even through her glasses, you could see the tears beginning to glass over her eyes. “Thank you, y/n. I owe you.”

“No you don’t, silly,” you giggled, giving her shoulders one more measured press before you texted Elsie a quick explanation. Then, pocketing your phone, you were moving down the aisles of bins in an effort to help her. “But, while we look. . . I did want to know how the college hunt is going. Also, what exactly is it we are looking for?”

After she told you the records, you immediately began to help her. You knew exactly where to find a few of them, so you instantly went to do that for her as she began to tell you about her school findings. 

Stacy was right up there with the regulars who had preceded her in line – a little more so, if you were being honest. She was set to graduate high school in May, when you were set to graduate college yourself. So frequently when she’d visited the store in recent months, you’d asked her how college searching was going. You knew that finding the perfect school was important to the girl, just as it had been to you. Your decision had been easy, though, as your heart had always naturally longed to follow in Elsie’s footsteps.

And, yes, while you and Josh both had taken an instant liking to Stacy as soon as she’d started coming into the B&G a couple years prior. . . it was different for you. Josh loved her quirky personality – as did you. But you found her even more special because the quiet, unsure spirit she housed reminded you so much of your own during your high school years. 

But. . . you hadn't always been that version of yourself. No, up until high school, you'd been the opposite.

You remembered now (with Elsie and therapy’s help) how you’d been chaotically fiery as a child. How, as a young girl, you easily used to become overstimulated to the point of raging aggravation. . . . But, that had (mostly) only lasted through your pre-teen years. And once you’d come into your early teens, you’d wanted to fucking change. Those parts of you had been ugly and humiliating and you didn’t want to identify with them — at least back then. 

You’d only recently begun to recall random things from your childhood from time to time (thank you, EMDR). Thankfully, there weren’t many of the extremely triggering moments that popped up. Like the trials with your mother or a man named Mr. Morgan. Nothing too scary intruded during your day-to-day. . .

No, it was the ‘easier’ stuff from your childhood that came to mind; whether it be in dreams or randomly as you completed mundane tasks. These recollections were of little things you’d done to yourself growing up that had permanently scarred you. It had become obvious that you used to be very self aware. You’d felt too self aware back then, actually. 

A lot like Stacy seemed. Self aware. But yours had been rather negative, where hers seemed more positive, most of the time. 

In all fairness, you hadn’t even known what the words ‘self aware’ meant until a school counselor, Mrs. Reams – with curly, graying hair and ready to retire – had droned on at you. The ‘self awareness’ had felt stifling and gloomy and never ending. Like a massive thundering, swaying hurricane you were stuck in – desperate to cling to the eye of it. But the eye of your storm had always been just out of reach. 

Admittedly, it was a lot for a kid – especially a traumatized one. So, at thirteen years old, you’d decided enough was enough. 

You’d taken what you assumed were ‘proper steps’ and had sat after school for an entire week with good ‘ol Mrs. Reams. All in an effort to learn what she had called ‘coping mechanisms.’ Again, you hadn’t understood that term either – until she’d referred to them as 'skills learned to adapt and survive'. Then, the wrinkly woman had explained some examples (explained them rather poorly, you might add). And after meeting with Mrs. Reams, you’d even gone so far as to use your Grandpa’s laptop to further search for ways to ‘cope.’ 

The idea of ‘forgetting things’ had been one way in particular that had gotten your attention — when it’d fallen from Mrs. Reams’ skinny, flimsy lips. “Memory suppression,” she’d recited, monotone. There had been a pamphlet and everything that she’d handed you. One picture had caught your eye of a teen girl. She was crying and sitting on the floor, with her head trapped between her arms. 

“What does it do?”

“It’s a way of forcing the traumatic memories to the back of your mind,” she’d replied, already standing to gather her things as you’d sat on the couch. Unmoving, still considering the conversation to be only midway through. 

But, when Mrs. Reams had turned off her lamp, you’d gotten the hint. Time to leave. . .

That was when the search had officially begun, though . . . With Grandpa’s laptop. The hours and days worth of research you’d done to forget things. (It was important to note that you'd never failed to clear the browser history, lest he tell your Grandma his search history out of worry. And the possibility of them both confronting you with smothering, misplaced love and care. . . It was not what you'd wanted). 

‘Memory Suppression’ was your goal, so those were the words you’d typed into Google. Over and over again. (‘Memory Replacement was a term you’d seen in your hours of time researching. And that had been the easier term to comprehend for your thirteen year old mind). Those blue, underlined letters on Google’s search results had never looked as pretty as they had on that first rainy afternoon in April. A couple days after your meeting with Reams - the perfect opportunity to use the laptop. Your grandparents and Elsie, having been gone for one of Elsie’s track meets. You’d claimed you had ‘too much homework’ to go. 

And so the process had begun. . . ‘Memory Suppression’ . . . a helpful friend and your worst enemy wrapped totally in one. An intense and slightly subtle form of self harm, in the end. The hours of time researching, leaving you ill-informed. Your teenage mind had been (understandably) incapable of truly wrapping around the concept well enough to complete the skills healthily. 

There had been ways that you’d literally transformed yourself to the point of a sort of internal mutilation. You’d succeeded in tying yourself in such tight, tricky knots that you were now, as an adult, tangled and confused. And, essentially, you were now void of incredibly essential memories that you needed to remember in order to heal. 

You’d found a lot of strategies. Many of these strategies to complete the process of suppressing memories had required a lot of time spent alone. So, usually late at night (or into the earliest hours of the morning) when everyone was asleep, you’d lock your bedroom door. Once it was locked, you’d shut off all of your lights to feel utterly isolated. And, for an hour and a half, night after night you had sat there and forced yourself to feel, feel, feel and block, block, block. Knees, hugged tight to your chest. For an entire year.

You’d timed yourself every night and everything. You’d obsessively cared about getting your ‘time’ in. That grueling, horrid time had been spent unhealthily blocking out the known, problematic times in your past. You’d altered the ‘fight or flight’ traits by convincing yourself that the times you’d spent learning them had never actually happened. It was all relative to preteen y/n. After a while, there had even come this dark voice that’d begun to enter your mind amidst the changes. And, the voice hadn’t ever truly left – accompanying you into adulthood. Narrated your every move.

This voice had been yet another unhealthy coping mechanism that your immature mind had initially conjured. A classic mechanism called ‘Self-Talk’ – but yours hadn’t been anywhere near what therapists recommend. It wasn’t ‘Positive Self-Talk.’ Your ‘talk’ had just been things you thought about yourself. Whether they be negative, positive, true, or false. . . Usually, the ‘talk’ brought with it the most hateful words and phrases you could imagine at that time about yourself – which had been supplied in abundance. And, it had been nice in a sense. For a time. 

That time spent in the darkest and most demoralizing solitude had worked wonders for you as a teenager. And, after one particularly “successful” night, where you’d awoken in the morning and felt more dazed than traumatized, you wanted to tell someone. Figuring Mrs. Reams was the ideal candidate (being that she’d been the one to give you the initial push), you wanted to tell her. 

So, after a class, when you’d passed the counselor in the hallway, you’d found that as the perfect opportunity. . . . Only for her to mix you up with a completely different student all together. Referred to a 'dead dog' and a 'father with an ailing illness'. . . But, absolutely nothing to do with anything you’d told her or talked with her about. 

And then when she’d called you by the wrong name, you’d known for sure. She had forgotten about you. You weren’t important to her. She didn’t give two shits. Her blatant ignorance when it came to you was another fun tidbit you’d added to your pile of “reasons” you had issues. Trust was shaky as fuck - even with people like counselors that you were supposed to trust the most. And that incident had caught you in the tresses of already learning new (bad) coping skills. So, you’d tacked on the idea that trusting people was bullshit unless they earned it. Your mom had begun this idea, and then Reams had really nailed it into the coffin.

The fact that it had hurt so badly, but hurt less than other memories meant you could really use it, though. So, that you did. After school, you’d sat in your car and effectively sobbed over the ordeal. All your life, people had just continued to prove why you couldn’t trust anyone’s genuinity besides your family’s (grandparents and Elsie only, until Josh). 

Thankfully, that day, no one had witnessed the breakdown. Elsie hadn’t ridden home with you, thanks to a track meet. And, luckily your grandparents had never missed her track meets or your choir events.  So, you’d had the entire evening to yourself. Yet again. You’d taken a long, sad shower and sobbed over the joke that was your life. You’d sat on the floor of the tub and lamented over how little you’d seemed to matter. Time and again. 

But, after a few fat and ugly tears, you’d gotten an idea. Which was: taking advantage of the newer and less traumatic sadness. You could use the counselor forgetting about you. Turn the event around to suffocate some darker moments from your dingy, messy past. It was a brand new, fresh wound, right at the front of your mind, that you could use to cover a repulsive, red, unhealed scar. 

It had still hurt like fucking hell to drag out the traumatic shit in order to cover it with new, painful shit. None of the process had been easy or fun. It’d hurt like a bitch. The entire time, you’d given yourself plenty of additional issues to sort through by doing it to yourself. Though, you’d clung onto it back then. Survival mode. And you’d continued to use the strategy. . . Forgetting the devastating things and forcing 'normal' life events to 'erase' horrendous, not-so-normal occasions. All of the bullshit method, used to cover the reality of why you were doing it in the first place. . . And, really. It had worked.

Hence why you always got especially angry or sad or scared with newer situations. . . It was all finally making sense as things came back to you. You were just paying the consequences now by not knowing how to handle your emotions as an adult.

“I found the other two!” Stacy squealed two rows over from you. Her excitement, breaking you from your apparent reverie. 

It was funny how therapy was truly assisting you in remembering so much of this shit. All of the pieces were clicking together and occasionally left you stunned. But the the feeling was getting a little easier to come out of everyday. . . Thankfully.

You looked over to where the younger girl was, in the country music section. A part of the store you, admittedly, did not look at very often. You hadn’t been able to be much help in that area. However, the three blues records you’d put yourself in charge of had been safely secured within a couple of minutes. “And I found the others,” you replied with a giggle, grounding yourself with the now. The present time. Centered yourself in the Black and Gold – in your current plans with Josh and Elsie. 

Your stomach rumbled on your way down the record aisle and you were very rapidly realizing how long it had been since you’d eaten. You really were hungry as fuck. And if you weren’t happy about that, you knew for sure that Lavender wasn’t happy about it. You didn’t want to kick Stacy out, but it was past 8:30. You saw as much when you slid open your lockscreen to your texts. 

Two new ones from Els. Fucking Do Not Disturb. You continued to succeed in not checking your thread with Jake, pressing Elsie’s contact in your pinned as soon as you opened your texts.

Elsie, 8:33 p.m.: 🧍‍♀️

Elsie, 8:35 p.m.: Y/n. Seriously. Come the fuck on. We’ve got plans in like 45 minutes. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻😐 ALSO, we still need to get your pictures taken before dinner. Don’t forget you wanted to do that. We planned that. You NEED TO do that shit. Trust me, bitch. 😮‍💨🤤🍆

You laughed outright at her texts. She was so fucking funny. But – she was right. You had plans and you did still want to take those pictures. Badly. The idea of posting something like you’d found on Pinterest, so electrifying. . . There were butterflies in your tummy just thinking of it.

And now that Stacy was smiling again and making conversation like normal as you made your way to her, you were very ready to leave.

Walking over to her, records cradled in one arm to your chest while the other held your tummy, you smiled down at the small brunette and asked a question you hoped she’d answer with a ‘yes’. “You ready?”

And to your delight, the answer was exactly as you’d wished.

After some conversation and contemplation with Elsie, she’d come up with the idea that you should make an actual post with its own picture and a story post with another picture. 

“Close Friends only, perhaps?” She’d thrown out into the universe. And at that, you’d just snorted with a ‘maybe, weirdo.’ 

She’d continued to brainstorm it all with you as you took a shower to rinse your body. With the cold weather you had seriously wanted it. Your muscles already hurt all the time nowadays, and the chilliness outside did not help matters. Yet, when you’d gotten into the shower, you’d caught a glimpse of the vibrator that had started it all, not even twenty four hours ago. . . And, unfortunately, at the exact same moment you saw it, Elsie wasn’t there as a distraction from the memories. She had gone to grab something she’d forgotten from the car. 

Thankfully, though, the warm water felt so nice against your skin that it helped you refocus. You hardly even thought about the night before with Jake. . . and Elsie didn’t take too long to return. And talking to her was the exact cure you needed for all of it. As you showered, she was busy looking at the Pinterest board you’d created at the nail salon, having added her as a collaborator while you were at work. 

“Oh. . . I like this,” she commented from the other side of the curtain from her spot on top of the toilet seat. 

“Which one?” You asked as you rinsed shampoo through your hair for the first step of rinse and repeat. 

“The comparison picture? Like, one of your flat, pre-baby tummy with a comparison to your tummy now? Black and white?” 

“Oh, yes. I think I’m sold on that one for sure,” you replied as you began to lather your hair for the second and final time. “I loved that one. I actually already found a picture to use with it during a lull period on my shift.”

Ironically, the picture you’d settled on was tied to a rather memorable day. It was one of you in your all-black bikini. You’d taken it before heading to the AirBnB the day you’d fucked Jake in the pool. It was your favorite. Your go-to swimsuit. And that morning, when you’d put it on, the confidence had been plentiful. . . That swimsuit in particular had always worked wonders at helping you feel sexy. There were the smallest pieces of lace that extended from the hems to cover the outer curves of your ass and cleavage. . . And it had led to a quite wonderful moment of your bikini-clad body riding Jake's as you'd made out on your bed.

And, then, of course. . . the pool. The pool had been the greatest reward.

“Phone’s on the counter. I favorited it. Go to my favorites,” you added, starting your conditioner.

Not one to pass up the opportunity to snoop through your phone, your curly haired sister seemed to immediately locate the photo you’d found. Or, you assumed at least, with the wolf whistling beyond the shower curtain. She wasted no time complimenting you with her words next. “Damn, sis! I see you! Fuckin’ hot ass.”

As she surveyed the picture, she explained that in order to fulfill the aesthetic aspect of the photo comparison, you had to incorporate the same colors in the new photo. So, again, all black. You were glad — it made your options very attractive. 

You asked her if you could do a black bra and jeans rather than panties — you didn’t want to mimic the swimsuit bottoms. . . It seemed too risqué and very awkward to completely replicate the barely-there summertime clothing. Besides. . . You hadn’t worn the swimsuit since that day and you didn’t feel like putting it back on, lest more sadness creep in.

“Sure. That will look amazing. But. . . Why don’t you put on the swimsuit again?” She wondered aloud, humming the melody to a Sam Cooke song that you couldn’t name off the top of your head. (Your mind was busy shuffling through nerves in anticipation of the pictures. . . How would you do your hair? Just blow dry? Didn’t want to go all out. . .) “Wearing the same thing could make for an even more aesthetically pleasing side by side.”

“Elsie. No,” you shook your hair out under the stream of water in the shower, rubbing your fingers through to get all of the conditioner washed out. Then you grabbed some sugar scrub for your arms and legs. Might as well exfoliate. “I don’t want to take a picture wearing a bikini in the middle of December. That would look ridiculous,” you’d replied, telling only half of the truth. But, you decided to tack on the extra little bit. No use lying about it. “And I also don’t really feel like putting that swimsuit on again. Memories associated with it and shit.”

“Jake?”

“Yes.”

“Niiiice,” she slyly answered before her phone pinged to inform her of a new text. You rolled your eyes at her response, grinning to yourself at the memory. 

“Josh will be here in like fifteen,” your sister alerted you before she let out a groan of irritation. “He’s actually running on time for once — the singular time I am not. I fucking swear, y/n. . . I love him more than anything, but his issue with promptness makes me want to scream.” 

You snorted at that, finishing your body washing a bit hastier due to his near arrival. And before you knew it, you were done and pulling the curtain open. She was already waiting, hand extended with the first of two towels you'd set out. 

“He has always been like that, Els,” you giggled, wrapping your hair in the towel, holding your hand out for the other that she was already handing your way. Both of you were two-towel believers. One for hair, one for body. Almost always. . . last night not being one of those times. . . Far more important matters had been at hand than the thorough drying of your hair a second towel could do. “I’m afraid there is no changing him. . . . And you knew that about him before you got together, so I have no sympathy."

She only hummed in annoyance, before she was continuing on with your conversation, nails tapping against her screen.  “Anyways. . . the other picture. . . For your story,” she cleared her throat. The noise gained your attention, looking over at her as you wrapped your body in the towel, pulling it to tuck under your arms. She was showing you the other picture you’d chosen for inspiration. The sexy one from the nail salon. Butterflies went batshit in your tummy. This was the one you were most excited to take. You didn’t have anything picked out for it, but you figured the black bra would do. . .  some black underwear to accompany. 

And, of course, his shirt. Was it too daring? Over-confident? Did you care? For once, you really didn’t. Not with last night still playing on a loop in the back of your mind. 

She pulled the phone back to herself, fingers sliding on the screen to indicate she was texting, but she kept on helping you all the while, continuing to speak. “The sexier one. . . Do you mentally have something picked out for that already?”

You went about toothpasting your toothbrush as she continued to zone in on her phone screen. “Maybe. . . I’ll probably just use the same black bra as the other one,” you’d said, as you brought the toothbrush up, preparing to brush as you looked up at her through the mirror, where she stood behind you now. She was taking turns watching you and checking her phone. “I’m gonna brush. Wanna go figure out lighting?” 

“Oh, lighting? Sister. . . I’m impressed by your determination to get these photos just right. . . .” she raised an eyebrow at you. “What gives?”

“I’m a horny ass pregnant woman who is finally feeling sexy, Elsie. That’s what gives.”

Her only response was laughter as she opened the door to the bathroom, closing it behind her on her way out to begin her task.

There were no words for the black, lacy set.

All you knew was that it was fucking gorgeous. Stunning. Sexy as fuck. Everything you wanted and more for the photo. It was laid out and awaiting your body, on your bed, as your room’s lighting accentuated the allure of the black, lacy, sheer piece. 

Along with the lingerie, you'd come to find your room all ready after you’d finally finished in the bathroom. And, Elsie’s Victoria’s Secret surprise had been laid out for you on your bed, the little pink bag sitting beside it. She’d assured you of a few things as she’d taken in your reaction, her face resembling the Cheshire cat. In her words, the lingerie was ‘not part of your Christmas’ since she’d ‘already gotten you enough shit.’  She, instead, insisted you call it her ‘donation to assist in getting your ass fucking laid’. 

You’d rolled your eyes at the last part, but still said thank you because there was simply nothing else to say. She’d also laid out the makeup she felt was best for the pictures (you’d always trusted her makeup advice and she knew it). Your hair was already done, blow dried and brushed through exquisitely, shiny and cascading beautifully down your back. Els had even lit candles, adding to the darker, enticing vibe you were going for. . . Not so dark that you’d be a silhouette. Not even close, actually. The lamp next to your bedside and the tall one she’d brought in from the living room (that she’d already promised to ‘put back’), added to the multiple candles’ lighting in the most erotic way. 

You were going to be bathed in a golden hue as the room around you was dimmed and mysterious. The theme of the photos was something you were sure would turn Jake on. And, as much as you didn’t want him to be the sole reason you were taking these (it wasn’t), it had been a big motivation to get your makeup on and get the pictures taken. The voice in the back of your head was telling you to stop thinking of him and his reaction, for fear that he might not react at all. Might see it and ignore it. No sign that he’d seen anything aside from his name popping up on the list of people who’d seen your story. 

“This is going to have to be a Close Friends story,” you’d emphasized, giggling as you’d toyed with the piece laying on the bed once more before you'd gone to begin your ‘no-makeup makeup’ look.

Now, your makeup was almost completely done. And Josh was apparently pulling up with coffee for Elsie and a hot chocolate for you.

“I thought he was going to be here like twenty-some minutes ago?” You’d asked, genuinely curious as you finished the blending of your blush. Eyeing your cheeks once it was completely on, you grinned. Your complexion looked wonderful and your face was officially done. “Why’d you make him stop for damn coffee?” 

Now all you had left were your eyes and lips. You’d be wearing brown mascara with your lips simply shiny from lip oil.

“How did you know I made him?” She asked, feigning offense. All you did was level her with a stare, only seconds later she huffed. “Whatever. I’m a caffeine addict. The first step to healing is acknowledging the issue, so kiss my ass," she came up behind you and fluffed your hair once before observing your makeup with a smile. "Also, I was stalling his ass. He can work on my time for once.”

You’d only snorted before going to finish your mascara. “Should the light be on for the first one?” You asked, your mouth moving awkwardly as you focused on your mascara application. One more coat. "And can you find me some jeans? American Eagle, please. . ."

“Absolutely. To both,” she replied, going to find what you trusted to be the perfect light wash jeans for you in your closet. “The button’s gonna be open on the jeans, right?” She called from where she was in your miniature walk-in closet. 

“Yes,” you confirmed, curling your lashes once more – just how you wanted – with the curve of your finger. “Black bra, light wash jeans, open button.”

She was just coming out of your closet when you started stripping yourself of your towel before grabbing the black bra you’d decided on from your underwear drawer. “Light on?” She asked, your light wash mom jeans thrown over her arm. 

“Yeah, go ahead. For the first one.”

When you turned to face the mirror after getting the bra on, you got the first good look of your tits since last night. And since last night, they’d changed. Fucking hell. Pregnancy was astounding, truly. Good ways and bad alike. How the fuck could a body change so damn quickly?

You eyed your swollen chest and the blue veins that had once lurked in light, subdued tracks across your growing breasts. . . But not anymore. Subdued was a thing of the past, apparently. Because today, as you eyed yourself, you saw displeasingly prominent tracks. Dark indigo, both purple and blue in their tint, now. They trailed from beneath the cups of your bra to midway up your chest. They weren't dark-dark. . .just enough that you definitely noticed a difference.

“Why? Why today of all days? Why now?” You lamented (admittedly dramatically) aloud, turning to the side to look from that position. And unfortunately, they were just as unattractive from that angle.

“What’s wrong?” Elsie responded with worry, laying your jeans on the bed as she rushed up behind you. 

You were facing the mirror once more when she came up behind you, concern painting her prettily petite features. Her blue eyes swam with panic. But you saw when she noticed you eyeing your breasts, bringing a hand up underneath each to see how they looked when lifted in the bra. Still horrible, you found. 

“Dear god, y/n. I know exactly what you’re looking at. Yes, you have darker veins in your tits. Your milk supply is coming in,” she informed you, as if you were an inept idiot. She was seeming to forget how you had spent an insane amount of time, cumulatively, doing research on all things pregnancy. "I'll explain. . .See, when the milk comes in, the blood flow affects the veins in your boobies-."

“I’m not a fucking child, Elsie. I know what happens and I knew that this was bound to happen. I know why it’s happening,” you explained, suddenly wanting to slap her for how much she’d annoyed you. “The veins just don’t get this dark for every woman and I was already feeling insecure about my body last night. Thankfully, I started feeling better last night. But now? Now, I’m feeling like shit about myself again. And we’re about to take pictures–.”

“They’re not even bad, y/n. And you know I'd tell you if I thought they were ug,” she said sternly, backing up from you to grab the jeans from the bed. “I happen to think you’re overreacting.”

“Elsie, you aren’t allowed to have an opinion,” you snapped, your chest heating with aggravation. “You’re not the pregnant woman experiencing these obscene body changes.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m going to pretend you didn’t tell me that. If I’m not allowed to have an opinion, I think I might die. So. . .,” she paused, holding the jeans out to you in the reflection behind you. “Just quit looking and put these on. I’m hungry.”

You grumbled the words back at her, dropping your heavy tits and slowly turning to face her. “But seriously – why in the fuck did they have to pop up today? Right before pictures?”

“Because your body knew it needed the additional sexy,” she replied with a wiggle of her perfectly waxed brows, filled in just right. “Jake will think it’s sexy.”

The jeans were tugged from her hands with another slight growl from your lips. Thinking about Jake seeing your now-strikingly veiny boobs was not a pleasurable thought. Your un-confronted attempts to get his attention were sure to backfire in your face. Even if you knew Jake would most likely compliment them, it wasn’t guaranteed that he’d actually find them sexy. Who in their right mind would think that? She rolled her eyes at your huffing as you pulled the denim over your fat ass. Seriously, there was no winning. Veiny tits, fat ass, thicker thighs, bloated everything. . . 

Fuck. So much for feeling sexy enough to take these blessed pictures. You were having second thoughts. After you got your jeans on, you leveled her with a glare. Your brain was officially a mess. And the front door was opening, adding to the crashing waves that had become your brain. You could hear the slight creak of it and you heard Josh upon his entry, as he quite literally sang his arrival. 

“I’ll be out in a second, babe!” Elsie shouted towards the living room before sending her gaze back to you, one eyebrow raised.

She opened her mouth to speak, but you were speaking before she could get another word in. “How in the sweet heavens are these thick, dark blue veins sexy? And how am I supposed to think I’m hot enough to take these pictures now?”

“You’re shitting me, right?” She asked, grabbing your phone for you from your bed and whipping it out at you to take. Reluctantly, you grabbed it (more forcefully than you probably should have). Your eyes were still communicating discontent with it all. “Open up your damn camera, so we can get to the good ones. Once you’re in that lingerie and getting in your thoughts about sex with your baby daddy, we’ll be fine. Swear.”

You found it so lovely that all it took was the mere mention of sex with Jake for your heart to start hammering against your rib cage. She was right. Your head was dizzy just in preparation for the thoughts. . .thinking about him to get you in the mood sounded incredible.

And at that, you were suddenly ready to take pictures. But then, you were looking back in your tall mirror at your fucking roadmaps and you weren’t ready anymore. 

“I don’t even want to take the first picture. How am I going to want to be all sensua—?”

“Y/n. Shut the fuck up and quit being melodramatic,” she insisted, bossing you in a way you (admittedly) needed. But, it didn’t mean you liked it. You snarled a lip at her, still glaring because you felt like it. “If you keep up the attitude, little sis, I’m going to go sit in the living room with my boyfriend and force you to take these by yourself. I’m not down for your shit and you know it. So, make your choice, bitch.”

Placing a hand on your tummy, you grounded yourself. Planted your feet. Out with the negative, y/n.

You thought about your boobs, got a good image of them in your head and imagined how, in a few months, you’d be using them for someone who mattered much more than you. And the reason they were changing in the ways they were, was solely due to the little one who took precedence over anything and everybody. And everybody most definitely included yourself. If you could do the multitude of other uncomfortable things you had already done for her, the least you could do was take a damn picture. You wanted the world to know of her. Everyone, ever. And that began with a post of you proudly posing with the bump that housed her. 

For Lavender. You could do it. For her. She was someone to be proud of in every capacity, even if for now, that was just an Instagram post. 

“Fine,” you moaned, turning from your sister. Her curls were seeming to stand on end with her frustration and restlessness towards you and your back and forth mental battle. “Help me pose in this damn mirror.”

The lace felt just as good on your body as you initially imagined it would. The insecurities had dissipated as you’d continued to remind yourself of the baby girl who was thriving inside of you. She needed a mother who was proud of her, and that you were, in spite of personal insecurities. And, posing for the picture in the mirror - holding your bump - made your heart long for the moment you'd finally get to hold her in your arms. And at that, everything else simply didn't matter.

Every change on and in your body was because of her. And she was worth all of it and more. 

So, by the end of your ‘innocent’ announcement photos, you were already in a much better mindset. It had only been a few of those pictures and that one pose. Your phone, up and covering your face as you gave proper camera attention to your bump. You held the phone with the hand on the side of your body furthest from the mirror. Elsie had insisted it was a 'natural' pose and you 'keep it that way'. 

The said the same thing when you went to touch your belly with the palm of the other hand. You truly adored touching your baby in this way. Putting a hand to your tummy was the thing closest to holding her. You'd found, over time, you weren’t one to move your hand quickly once it was placed there. Liked feeling close to her. . .

But now, you were most definitely not holding your body. No, you were focusing on the rest of your body. You’d adjusted as much was needed, but it hadn’t been a lot. The two piece set had fit your body like it was quite actually made for you.  The black, sheer, lacy lingerie Elsie had gifted you was of smutty romantic novel dreams.

You were focused on putting on some lipliner to accentuate your lips beneath your lip oil and touching up your lashes. All the while, Elsie had been gone helping Josh with his task of finding a shirt of Jake's. Though, that was a task that should have taken five minutes or less. . . and it had now taken almost twenty and you were getting antsy. And irritated. And frustrated. And grumpy. And envious of their freedom. . .

You couldn't lie. Your current predicament with Jake was ass. Not at all what Josh and Elsie had and you wanted to scream for it.

Honestly, most of it was definitely credited to the fact that you were hungry as fuck. Your stomach was growling more than you liked, so you were hesitant, yet again, to imagine how distraught Lavender was over the hunger.

At this point, you imagined the stomach growling was actually her saying her first words. Imagining her inside, begging you with ‘feed me, mommy’s’ was enough to make your heart race with anticipation. You needed to get these pictures taken to tell the world of her. . . and, perhaps, possibly, get a reaction from her father. If you were lucky. 

And, as you eyed the lacy ensemble on your body once more, turning to the side and poking out a hip. . . You hoped to god - hoped that her aforementioned sexy ass father would see it and love it. And, perhaps, let you know, too. . . Again. . . if you were lucky. 

You were snapped from the thought of his opinion as Elsie was crashing into your space once again. Swiveling on a heel, you gave her a look that said everything you were thinking. Or at least you tried to translate it to say, ‘Thanks for leaving me to suffer in hunger and anxious excitement for a damn quickie, bitch.’

“Okay, so Josh has secured the shirt,” Elsie said in a rush, not looking at you and hurriedly shutting the door behind her. Her hair was much messier than it had been when she’d left you. And when she finally looked up at you to urge you to get moving, you noticed her salmon-colored lip liner-lip oil combo. . . had smudged down to her damn chin. “Shut up, bitch,” she said, without a second thought. “I haven’t seen the man for a hot damn minute and I missed him. Give me a break.” 

“You just saw him last night," you huffed an annoyed laughed at her excuses.

“We’re making up for lost time.”

You could’ve gagged. “I’m starving, Elsie. I’m ready to take these so we can go eat.”

“Y/n,” she huffed, voice pitching a bit higher with her annoyance. “I’m doing you a damn favor by helping you. You’re going to appreciate it without judging my ass.”

Damn. She was right. And you were grateful. But still. Pregnancy hormones and cravings and hunger and hungry baby — they were no joke. . . You figured you’d bother her a little more. Just because little sisters had to meet their monthly quota. 

“Your niece is hungry, Elsie,” you remarked, watching as she began unbuttoning the shirt Josh had found. "I am quite actually eating for two and I have to make sure she is eating enough."

Her eyes flicked up to yours and there was a bit of fire in them. Along with an unspoken guilt. “For that I am sorry. We will get this finished up before you know it. I promise,” she finished with the buttons, offering the white dress shirt to you. 

You’d only seen him wear this a slim number of times. Very slim. Label meetings. A few lessons with higher paying clients (you internally gagged at the idea of Maya being one of said clientele). And Halloween night.

Goddamn, he’d done it for you that night. When he’d been dressed as the most breathtaking pirate you’d ever fucking seen. When you grasped the shirt, you didn’t hesitate in bringing it up to your nose to smell it. Amber. Vanilla. Sandalwood. Paradise. Safety. Love.

When you heard Elsie’s snort just past you, you realized what you’d just done in front of her watchful eyes. You kept your head down, wanting to avoid said eyes. The oceans of teal and dark blue were most surely judging you just as she’d asked you to not judge her. Albeit, your little stunt was a little more creepy. Okay, very creepy. Weird as fuck. Whatever.

“Don’t judge me, Elsie,” you muttered, still letting your eyes shift nervously at the carpet on which your toes wiggled. “I’m just—.”

“A horny ass ho ho ho. . .What a Merry Christmas to Jake!” She finished with a singular loud cackle, flipping the light switch off behind her. The lights off with the candles and lamps was still an absolute ambient dream. “Y/n. Seriously, though. It’s okay, babe. Like I said, I get it,” she giggled a little more as you let the cool fabric slip over your arms. You could’ve sighed with relief at the hug from the material. But you didn’t. Not after your display. “He’s going to be chokin’ the chicken tonight no matter what. Maya’s stank ass will be the last damn thing on his mind when you post thes–.” 

“Els!” You finally let your head wrench up from your shame. But you couldn’t dig at her for what she’d said. It was hilarious. 'Chokin’ the chicken'? Where did she get this shit? All she was met with, though, was a little smirk on your lips. She was such a little devious rat. . . . and you loved it. You faux-scolded her. “Quit that. . .,” you shook your head, messing with the buttons of the shirt for something to do with your hands. “He can’t even do that shit with Maya around. Not that he’d even want—.”

“Oh my god. Y/n. Be so fucking for real.”

“Even if we don’t like her and she sucks and I really, really can’t stand—.”

“See? You can barely say a nice word about her. She’s a whore,” she pursed her lips with a toss of her eyes and hair over her shoulder. She then went to the mirror you’d just been standing in front of to touch up her lips. Using a finger to touch up the edges, she hummed and spoke the best she could as she completed the job. “You want it, he wants it. And I, for one, am not going to pretend like him buffing the banana is not the end goal with these pictures.”

Buffing the banana? What in the sweet fuck?

“I honestly just want to post a pregnancy announcement,” you reminded her, knowing it wasn’t the full truth. Not at all.

“Also," she continued as if you hadn't said what you had. It was bullshit and she knew it. "I can almost guarantee he’ll be finding time for himself in the bathroom in that little town— what’s it called?”

“Oh my god,” with a flat brow, you gave her a look with your deadpan response. “It’s Charleston, Elsie. . . One would think you’re not a world-fucking-traveler. You know how big Charleston is. Now you're just being a rat for the hell of it."

“I know I am. . . It's fun," she winked at your expression. "Sometimes I just feel like being a bitch. Especially about things concerning her,” she said, digging through her belt bag on the dresser for her gloss. Never one to reapply the original lip. Only gloss after her lips were smudged.

You shook your head at her.  "Which room did you christen so I can sanitize it?"

"Jake's, duh," she replied, as if that were supposed to be a given.

But it just left you standing there with your mouth agape. What in the-? "What in the hell? His own brother's room?" You turned your voice down, so as not to make Josh privy to the conversation. "I've-we've-he and I have-so many times-. God, Elsie. . .," you shook your head and massaged your temples. For the briefest moment, Maya didn't fucking exist. No other woman did, in fact. Because all you could think about was how that room belonged to you and Jake. Only the two of you. "Please tell me it wasn't the bed."

"Not the bed. God, no. Too far," she seemed offended like that idea was so incredibly dirty to even consider. God - your sister was a trip when it came to one Joshua Michael Kiszka. "It was the desk. And, in that moment, it wasn't Jake's anymore. . . it was only us in that moment," she explained, popping her lips a couple times to ensure the gloss was doing what she wanted. And still, she put on another coat. You were ashamed that your mind had literally been following the same thought process only seconds ago. "When the feeling strikes, it strikes," she continued in a strange tone as her lips curled for the application. "Don't tell me you wouldn't do it anywhere if Jake were to approach you for it."

You wanted to continue the argument, but. . .She had a point. The thought alone had you wanting to bend over as an offering to the man. . . Wearing his shirt as he claimed you over and over again. . . Hard. Rough. Passionate. Talk about making up for lost time. . . Fuck. The though alone - you were growing desperate with no route for escape. . . In the next moment, when you shifted to tousle your hair away from your hot face, the shirt brushed just right across your chest. And suddenly, there was only one thing you wanted. . .

So, without another thought, you were giving into a sudden urge. Turning from her, you faced the bed. And once your front was safely hidden from her sight, you very subtly brushed the lapels of his shirt against your nipples. The sensation was enough to make you shiver - the peaks of your breasts grew taut and damn near painful at the way it lit you up. . . All for him and fuck - it felt so good. Your toes curled into the carpet, eyes closing at the feeling as you continued to use his shirt for stimulation. The lace and sheer material were the ideal match for his button down and your sensitive tits. 

“Yeah, you know I'm right. It’s the precise reason you want to take this second one with Jake’s shirt covering your almost-naked body,” she sarcastically interjected, playing a little too well into your current thoughts and actions for your liking. Your cheeks blushed, feeling like you'd been caught when she hadn't even turned around. When she popped her lips for a third time, though, you knew she was finished. And you were on edge for more reasons than one. So, you stopped what you were doing and went to get on the bed. Didn’t want to seem suspicious.

“Oh, the things this poor bed has witnessed. . .,” she pushed out a breath, grabbing your phone from where it laid on the edge of the bed. You rubbed your brow with a finger, ready to get the show on the road and feeling sympathetic for your bed and the way she spoke of it. (And the way she was so right. . . Your insatiable ass.) “Woo-wee, mama," she emphasized the words with a pat-pat-pat to the bed.

With a groan, you went from a sitting position on the bed to move on all fours. Had to find a good place to pose. But, moving like this was quickly becoming too much of a reminder of the night prior. So, you didn’t stay like that for long before you were scooting around the bed on your knees. Which, again, was a stark reminder of how his mouth had tucked up and inside — so well — from this angle. At the same time, his shirt once again brushed your tender nipples. Goddammit!

“Elsie, how do you want me?” You wondered aloud, done with the dilly-dallying. Turning to face her to clear your mind, you knew your expression was pinched in an effort to have her understand your frustration. 

And the mischievous smirk she gave you was not helpful. But, somehow, it did still trick your mind enough for your lips to part with your own grin. “I think we should only focus on using the position from that photo. Do you remember it?”

“Duh, bitch,” you bit out, once again irritated. The hormones were not working in your favor or your sister’s. Not with the additional hunger overtaking you to push it to a higher degree.

“Alright, so bend those knees,” she encouraged, ignoring your snippiness. All she did was move to prepare for the exact spot she needed as the photographer for the photo aesthetic. So, you did just as she said, posing the exact same way the woman in the picture had. When you loosened your hips to get your ass close to the fabric of your down comforter, you ruffled the covers around you for a special effect.

The bed shouldn’t look too pristine. . . Not for the idea I’m trying to create. . .You thought, face feeling hot at the implications of this photo.

You didn’t get down too low to the covers either; imagined where a face might lay below your hips, nestled between your thighs. A handsome face with amber-brown eyes and full lips, top one curled in a grin special to only him. . . Last night had been a reel in your head all day, but now it wasn’t playing at the back. No, it was playing at the front. Widescreen in a fucking cinema.

Slowly, before you had processed anything else, your hips had begun moving again with some assistance from his persistent hold on your hips. He’d gone 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’d already started to fall apart again. It had hit you suddenly – when you’d felt his hums switch to a low growl against your labia, right before he’d gone back in for a sloppy kiss. You’d instantly gone back in the throes of all things Jake; your body had become utterly numb as you sunk as far as you could onto his face. 

The growls and groans had continued from his mouth – you’d felt every single one against your center as he’d worked to tilt your body just so, his nose, having nudged against your aching core. Right where all of the nerves met - just briefly. Your toes had curled tighter at the contact, amidst the harsh ride of your orgasm on his lips. He’d 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’d made damn sure you knew that.

You’d made the mistake in that moment of looking down as you’d groggily returned from your third orgasm, to the then-present time. Because, when you’d looked down, you’d been offered the opposite of reprieve. With a slow glance just past your round tummy, you’d caught sight of the very bottom of his chin and the strong column of his neck below you. And what you’d beheld had been intoxicatingly beautiful. . . And shocking.

All of your release, all over his tanned skin. . . He’d become fucking soaked. Had you squir–? Fuck. The knowledge of the fact that you'd done so. . . just enough to make a fire light up in the pit of your tummy. The flood of heat that’d enveloped your belly, washing over your entire body in a rush of glorious overstimulation, had been the only sign you’d had of a fourth orgasm. 

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

Too fucking bad nothing had come of it. That thought alone was enough to gain a sense of self in the present time. But god, you were still feeling things from the memory. Things you really didn’t want to be feeling in front of your sister. Your cheeks alone were hot from the thought of him last night, as you’d been positioned – just like you were now – in the same exact spot. You had to control the reactions your body was desiring to emit at the memory.

Not in front of Elsie. Have some respect for yourself, y/n, the voice in your head counseled you. Couldn’t tell if it was the mean one or the nice one. . . Either way, it was correct in its advice.

“I see what you did there,” she appreciatively noted, snapping a photo at the same time you messed with the blanket. “Keep moving in candid ways. You’re already killing it with that gorgeous face. I’m so fucking jealous of those darker features from Grandpa’s side of the family.”

“Please don’t talk about our Grandfather right now,” you replied, cheeks cooling when you shot her a glare. You were sure your face showed utter disgust. Because, ew.

“Alright. Almost done,” she said with a slight snort of a laugh, getting off the bed from the curved position she’d made to get the last round of pictures. She snapped a few from a standing position at the end of the bed. Then a few more, with only her chest and arms leaning on the mattress. You were sure you had at least good one from all of these as she kept complimenting you after every few. God, you were so thankful for her mindfulness and helpfulness. You really would be lost without her. She really didn’t have to be doing this, but here she was. “These are going to be so fucking hot, sis.”

You breathed out with a smile, feigning an incredible amount of effort that you hadn’t used with the back of your hand across your forehead. Though, ironically, your next breath was, actually, from back pain alone. While the position was really attractive, it was starting to hurt a bit. No Jake below you to make you feel better this time. You really did love how incredibly well it resembled last night. . . But your baby was growing everyday and your back was unappreciative. . . Especially in new, abnormal positions such as the one you were in. 

The look of pain went unnoticed by your sister as she had gone to speak loudly to Josh through a crack in the door. One hand on the knob and phone in the other, she looked over at you quizzically. “How would you feel about The Monkey King?”

Anything sounded delicious. . . And The Monkey King had hit the fucking spot all two times you'd eaten there. You were in shock at the suggestion. Seriously. The Monkey King? The restaurant was not cheap. Even with grandparents who provided more than well, you’d only ever been to the restaurant a couple of times in your entire life. 

“Um. . . Who will be pay–?” You began, with a scrunched brow before Josh interrupted you with a 'me, mama!'.

However, that voice had come from way too close. Was he directly outside of the room? Why was he not in the living room? You did not like the idea of your male best friend being so near when you were in such flimsy and revealing clothing. 

You’re literally posting these on Instagram, y/n, a little voice spoke to you. Pretty sure Josh is the least of your worries.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed, grimacing again from the pain in your back just as she’d turned to speak with him again. 

Thankfully, she was back within seconds with one last idea. There was a choir singing "Hallelujah" in the distance - you were sure of it. “Okay. . . One more pose I just thought of. Stay on your knees, but lightly grab the lapel of his shirt.” You did just that, following her instructions, your fingers brushing the ends of your hair strands.

“How can he afford that?” You asked as she fidgeted with the lapels of the shirt. It was honestly astounding that he’d just thrown that expensive ass restaurant out there as a recommendation like it was nothing. 

“You should see the money they’ve made from some of this promotional shit with their label,” she bragged on the band’s behalf – but you knew it was more on Josh’s behalf.

“Seriously? Without a tour, even?” You wondered, letting your eyes meet hers once at the question. “Or a damn album release itself?”

She told you to ‘keep the pose’  before she responded. “It’s a lot of explanation and words and Josh talks so much that I don’t always catch everything he says,” she explained, pursing her lips before telling you to look down again. “But from what I’ve gathered, they are doing a lot of shit for the label and with the label. . . The type of shit that racks up some big money.”

“That’s incredible,” you said, speechless as you surged with a deep sense of pride for Jake specifically.

It was impossible to communicate the amount of emotion you felt for his career taking off. So quickly, too, in the grand scheme of things. Absolutely awe-inspiring for anyone to witness. It was proof that if he wouldn’t have stopped after high school, he’d have gone farther than he already was going now. The fact that they were going so far now and doing so well for themselves was further confirmation that you couldn’t ever let Jake abandon a damned thing for you. Or for Lavender. She had to see him do this wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime thing — live this dream out. In the long run, it would inspire her to follow her own dreams. It sounded stupid to already be saying shit like that, yes. . . But it was how your hormones laid things out for you — mentally and emotionally. And it really did make sense. . .

The thought alone was enough to help you stand firm in your desire for him to not be with you. And you didn’t want him with someone like Maya. You were so passed that. She wasn’t good like he was. They didn’t fit and it was hell watching them together because he was better - far better - than her. Being so close and intimate with him again was (very slowly) helping to clear your head of the bullshit that you'd orchestrated in your mind that she was right for him. Jacob Thomas Kiszka wasn’t right for anybody. He was too good for this world and no one was good enough for his heart. Even if he were to believe it wasn’t true, you believed it. And you would continue to believe it for him if you had to. You loved him enough to believe in anything for him.

You were jealous of him and Maya, yes. And you wanted him to leave her. But it went beyond that. So far beyond that. In the end, it had virtually nothing to do with Maya and everything to do with Jake. Jake deserved to live his dream without a woman tying him down. While you wanted all of him more than anything, you knew you’d only ever give so much of yourself. Only for his benefit. You would use your body to show him your love for as long as time would allow. You wanted that shit and he’d made it seem like he did, too. You’d be his friend, too. Being his friend, alone, was a gift. His friend, first and foremost.

Your entire heart — everything that came with a relationship — was too much for him and you refused to burden him with it. You loved him too much for that. God. . .you really fucking loved him. So much it physically hurt. The love you had for him was the reason you were so adamant about not letting him push anything away like he’d been forced to before. His future was right around the corner. The life that he was destined for. . . One outlined with fame and adoration from fans who loved the music he made. 

He’d helped you reclaim a hellton of shit in your life. The least you could do for him was not squander it with a relationship. A relationship with a broken woman. His baby would know that he loved her. You’d make sure of it. You knew he’d make sure of it. Lavender Kiszka would only bring joy and hope in her wake — just like she already did. You brought confusion and unsureness and a broken heart from things that weren’t his doing.

Yes, your goal was to have those things healed before Lavender was in your arms. But. . that was another thing. It was for her. The healing, the getting better. . . At your core, you knew it was for her. Not him. Not even for you, as much as it was her. She needed your devoted attention. And that did not include him working tirelessly to keep up with your bullshit. No, Lavender needed to be his main focus, too. 

After Elsie claimed she’d gotten the ‘perfect shot’, she left you to get changed for the night. But. . you couldn’t take off the lingerie yet. Didn’t want to. It made you feel so fucking incredible, in the end. Even when you went to brush your hair and touch up your lips in the mirror and caught sight of your vein-ridden tits. . .you didn’t begin to feel like shit. No, the veins that stared back at you above the cups of your bralette weren’t quite so offensive anymore. Not when you associated them with why they were so prominent. 

You slipped a nice, black v-neck sweater over your head to match the expensiveness of the restaurant you’d be going to. And when it was just the sweater and the lacy underwear (that did not cover your ass), you turned to the side and smoothed a gentle, loving hand over your bump. She was worth every bit of everything. And so was her daddy. 

“How about I post a story of you and Els? That’ll break the ice,” Josh brainstormed as all three of you got settled into your seats at The Monkey King. “We can see if he’s online.”

For the past half hour of leaving your home and waiting for a table at The Monkey King, Elsie and Josh had been talking you down from being worried. Worried about posting your pictures. The non-sexy comparison one would be first. You already had that post queued up on your end. But. . . you’d been leaning into hesitancy. You were waiting — because of nerves forcing you to believe that Jake wouldn’t even react to them.

Why would he? He was with his girlfriend, for god’s sake! And you’d even told him to ignore you. And, stupidly, you’d voiced the moronic worries to Josh and Elsie who hadn’t stopped giving ideas for the past almost-forty minutes now. But they just didn't get it. You needed a little more time. . . You just needed a bit to boost your courage to post anything at all — especially the risqué story. And that one was set to come after the first post. . . So, as it went, the sooner you posted the first. . .

Elsie had been right about the last set of pictures she'd snapped. There had been one photo in particular that had been perfect. When you looked at it, it was hard to believe it was even you. But that was how you knew it was fucking good and hot as hell. Your hair had been the slightest bit tousled from your moving around for the pictures, your hand holding onto the left lapel of his shirt. . . Your legs, opened into a small 'V' and bent at the knee, ass nearly touching the bed in your 'relaxed' position. 

And your tits. Damn. In spite of the veins, you still loved how they looked at this stage in your pregnancy. They were ideally round and swollen in a way that would make any boob-lover’s day. Yes, the veins were noticeable. But you actually understood Elsie’s point about them adding a sexy touch. You saw yourself as this ethereal sort of pregnant woman in the sensuous picture. You’d made it black and white for an added noir effect. . . And it was actually perfect. But, still. You were nervous. 

“I swear if this is actually about your titties. . .,” Elsie began, somehow reading your mind in her creepy ass sister way. Her words got an abrupt response from her boyfriend. 

“A woman’s body is magnificent in any light, y/n. Don’t be ashamed of it, mama,” Josh encouraged, catching your eyes and blushing cheeks. His brown irises held compassion and empathy. 

“Thanks, Jo—.”

“Yeah, y/n,” Elsie cut in, earning herself a glare from you. “And that especially goes for pregnant bodies.”

“I believe if my twin were here he’d have to agree,” Josh inserted, looking at Elsie when he said it. He was literally using it as a conversation piece to add onto her statement. Josh was an appreciator of the human anatomy — of all of its beautiful features and abilities. 

But it felt like you were being put on the spot. Like Elsie had said some shit. Something that would make him feel the need to encourage you with a statement in reference to Jake and your boobs. “What the fuck did you say to him, Elsie?” You wondered, being cut off by the waiter coming to take your drink orders. 

For once, you actually got a drink with caffeine. Coke. You knew from reading, that a little caffeine wouldn’t hurt the baby and you were craving the unhealthy carbonated drink. Christmas and Coke just went together. When the waiter had gone, you went to say more to Elsie — really chew her out — but it was Josh who spoke first. 

“I don’t even know what you’re referring to, y/n,” he clarified, gaining your line of sight. His eyes screamed genuinity. You knew he wasn’t lying. “I just felt the need to insert what I knew. What I know about the man. Because. . .,” he cleared his throat, leveling you with a pinning stare. His lips quirked. “Because, I know — based on what you told me, y/n —, that that stupid ass motherfucker is part of the reason you’re nervous to post anything.”

“What, do you know that Jake’s a boob guy or something?” Elsie tried, smirking at her boyfriend. “I mean. . .could have guessed that based on the way I’ve caught him looking at y/n’s on the few occasions I’ve been around to witness it.”

What? He did that? And often enough that Elsie had noticed it after only a few visits?

“You do make quite the impeccable point, my dear. . . The fucker can’t take his damned eyes off of them,” Josh agreed with a puff of air from his lips, quantified to a laugh. “It’s hilarious, actually. Thinks he’s being subtle.”

You had no idea what they were talking about. There had only been a few times that you had caught his eyes roaming. . . And usually, it was just the two of you who were there when he did it. “I don’t know what the fuck you guys are talking about,” you interjected. “Surely he doesn’t—.”

“Y/n. Even if I hadn’t caught him doing it, he told me his goddamn self,” Josh informed you, placing his fingers together in a pyramid in front of his face. As if he were some sort of great scholar discussing this shit. “That day after he groped you in front of us all and got himself off in the bathroom — which he also admitted to, by the way. He actually told me the shit about your body whilst admitting to yanking his fucking chain.”

Okay, they had to stop with the variety of terms they used to describe sex things. “Where the fuck do you guys hear the variety of ways to refer to male and female genitalia?” 

“Urban Dictionary,” they said in unison, side eyeing one another with a little grin as they bumped shoulders. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“We just get on there for fun sometimes,” Elsie explained, rubbing Josh’s arm lovingly as the drinks got to the table. 

“You’re both gross,” you replied as you watched them fucking Eskimo kiss in front of you. God, you were so damn single. 

For a number of seconds, they continued on as if you weren’t there. All handsy and flirty and in love. You stared at them blankly and with self-pity. . . All you wanted, with one person in particular. But you just couldn’t do it. 

You were caught off guard when the waiter was suddenly back with your drinks, asking for your orders. You quickly ordered your meal, having checked the menu online on the way to the restaurant. The way your stomach had been calling out for help had simply left you no other choice. When the server was yet again gone, with the orders tucked into his apron, you let your eyes roam back over to your two best friends. Thankfully, they were back from Love Island. Though, unfortunately, they were both eyeing you with measured stares of awaiting nature.

“What, you two?” You snapped at them, arching a brow as you took a long sip of your Coke. Which, as you'd expected, hit the spot just right.

“You’re not even going to react?” Josh quizzed you, raised a brow as he took a sip of his piping hot green tea. “I just told you that Jake told me how much he loved your body.”

To tell him or not to tell him. . . Fuck. Whatever. What was the harm?

“I don’t need to react to that Josh,” you began. After one more little sip of your Coke, you placed your phone on the table. The confidence was coming; you could do it. “Because last night I think his mouth did a pretty impeccable job informing me — on my body.” 

“In her body,” Elsie added, with a pointed look at Josh. 

The curly headed twin almost shot green tea out of his nose, choking slightly as he swallowed his most recent sip. “What?!”

“Yes, Joshua, we both took your sage advice. Thank you so much, Wise Counselor,” you griped, for no reason besides how hungry you were. Because, truly, you were grateful. Josh was working wondrous Christmas miracles in Brooklyn, NY. 

“Dr. JMK,” Elsie wiggled her brows at him, patting his back as his coughs turned to little huffs and puffs. “My favorite therapist.”

You didn’t even have to guess that they were referring to sex. Not with the way he was smirking and rubbing at his bottom lip as his breathing calmed. His eyes, darkened and looking in the distance - far away from you. Then, he was whispering in her ear and you wanted to gag. Again. 

Their public display of affection was enough to encourage you to go to your own little world. And the most effective way to do that at the time being was to just get the damn picture posted. Just the comparison. The one in the jeans. You could do that. With the caption up and ready and everything, all you had to do was click a certain button. 

So, you did it. Posted. Just like that.

The left side, the picture of you in a black bra with your jeans undone in the front to showcase your protruding lower tummy. And then, of course, the right side was the picture of your pre-baby body the day you went to the pool. In your little black swimsuit – but just enough of the picture to be a near-replica picture of the one you’d taken that evening. Just your face behind the phone, your chest, your tummy, and the very top curve of your ass. 

The focal point of both pictures, being how your body had changed. Which, you had to admit. . . you were beginning to prefer the baby bod. Whether that was thanks to Jake’s assistance the night before or the fact that your changing body meant your daughter was growing - well and healthily. . . you weren’t sure. Though, you were leaning more towards being proud of the little human you were housing. She was right there, obvious to everyone, all of the time, and you loved that fact. Lavender made the cutest little bump. And when you weren’t in your head about your appearance, you could see just how much you loved your bump. You were admittedly blessed with quite the adorable round tummy. 

And, after comparing your body to hoards of other pregnant women, you knew you were also blessed with incredible pregnancy-induced tits. You’d seen plenty of other women who had perfectly suited bodies to accompany their pregnancy… but, you were glad to simply prefer yours than compare it to others’. Your nipples were still smaller and lighter, those not having changed too much (strangely, you were terrified for those to change). It was nice to not have to get used to those changing along with everything else (Seriously. Everything else: belly, ass, thighs, swollen feet — the works.). The only thing that had really changed about your breasts was the size of them. They’d grown beautifully larger, in your opinion. Round, sexily swollen, and sitting just right on your body above your bump. . . (If you took time to consider it, you could understand why Jake had focused on them so intentionally the night before.) 

Seriously, where this confidence was coming from, you had no idea. You assumed it had to do with the night before. 

You stared at the post for just a moment longer, not daring to refresh the page to see any comments, likes or anything of the sort. The caption was very sweet, the ideal thing to accompany the black and white side-by-side comparison. It was simple, pointing out the obvious. (Your tummy was still small-ish, yes. However, it was also pretty clear that you were, in fact, more than a little pregnant.) 

For your caption, you’d written:

Just a bit of a difference… 🤭🫶 May 2023 🐣💜

The notification ping! on Elsie’s phone went off with your post. At the noise, you looked up at your sister to see her reaction to it. Thankfully, it had been enough to break her and Josh from their mini lovefest (seriously, thank god). She’d given you an eye with a smirk that said she was proud of you before she picked up her phone to see the post. Josh was looking over her shoulder as she clicked through to the app, curious to see the highly anticipated post finally up and in action.  

“Oh, y/n. . . . it is perfect!” She’d excitedly squealed, instantly double clicking her screen with her pointer. She flourished the action with a little flick of her wrist, which made you laugh. And soon, Josh was readily getting his phone out to, presumably, do the same. “I’m gonna comment and share it to my story. . . How about you post your story pic, sis? Please. I’m dying.”

Still maneuvering around his phone like he was a grandpa, Josh held the phone away from his face a bit to get a good look. With a gentle grin, he double clicked before sending a wink your way. “So cute, Mama. Jake’s going to love it.”

“I can’t look to see if he’s liked it yet,” you admitted out loud, only eyeing the post for a second longer before you started preparing your story post. “And I literally just posted, so I know I sound ambitious even referring to it yet.” It seemed like the right time to get the truly risque picture set and ready while you were feeling so good about your figure. . . And to distract you from Jake possibly seeing the other post. 

“We don’t have to quite yet. Els, why don’t you. . .?” Josh said across from you. From your peripheral, you noticed he was gearing up his phone to take a picture of you. You glanced up at him just as Elsie was moving around the table to sit beside you. The crinkle in your brow questioned what they were doing, but you didn’t have to ask as he was revealing it himself on his next breath. “I’m going to make that story post I mentioned earlier. And, if he sees mine, then I’ll be able to call him on his shit if he doesn’t pay attention to yours.”

“Josh,” you scolded with a stern brow. Though, in spite of your slight disagreement with the plan, you went along with it. It did make sense. . . you just weren’t sure you wanted him calling Jake out. You said as much, just as he got the phone set up just right to get the best angle. “You shouldn't call him out for anything. He is with Maya. His focus doesn’t need to be on me. I’m just being weird about him seeing it.” 

With another glance, you eyed your phone screen before turning it on its face – didn’t want to show how it was opened to a new Insta story. The black and white picture of you in the sexy black lingerie and Jake’s shirt, only awaiting a song to accompany it for your second post of the night.

“We all want to know his reaction, sis,” Elsie clarified as she snuggled up beside you, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you close. “Now, smile for my boyfriend.”

You did just as she said, the smile not hard to fake at all. This night was honestly of your dreams, getting to be with your two best friends. Elsie living in New York again still felt too good to be true. . . But, it was, in fact, very true. And you were overjoyed. There was only one person truly missing. 

Josh continued to narrate as he took a few pictures. “I want him to see what he’s missing out on, too. Selfishly, I’m also pissed he’s spending any time away from me this holiday season, too. . .,” he grumpily noted. “I thought that the ‘prioritizing the girlfriend’ shit was behind us.”

With a flush in your cheeks, you couldn’t help but agree that it was aggravating that he was away. “Yeah, it sucks that he’s not here,” you said, not really caring to be transparent about that. It was just Josh and Elsie. . . you were tired of hiding all of these pent up feelings from them. There were only certain things you were not about to divulge to them. . . . like your love for the man. “I was looking forward to spending some of the holiday with him, too.”

The curly headed man turned the phone around to show you the pictures with measured scrolls between the pictures. “I feel you, mama,” he solemnly noted in return. “Tell me to stop when you see the one you love.”

They were all very good. Josh knew his way behind a camera. . . truly knew how to make people look their best. But there was one in particular you instantly stopped him at. It was the happiest you’d seen yourself for a hot damn second and Elsie looked majestically gorgeous with her curly hair falling around her petite, fairy-like features with ease. 

“That one is my favorite,” you said, tapping the screen to hit the favorite button to emphasize your point. “I love our smiles in it. You look gorgeous, Els.”

“This is about you, sis,” she grasped Josh’s wrist to halt him from moving his phone away just yet. “Do you like how you look in it?”

You shook your head at her insistence, smiling at her. Gently, you lifted her fingers from Josh’s wrist and grasped her hand in your own. “Yes, Elsie. I love how we both look in it,” you promised her, keeping her hand in a tight grip when she gave you a grin to match your own. “But can you please stay beside me for a bit? I need you right here when I post this fucking sensuous story.”

“Yes, silly,” she responded, a glint in her eye as she winked. “Do you want to post first? Or do you want Josh to?”

From the side, you saw Josh pause before placing his phone on the table. “You stopped me just in time, babe. . . Was just about to post it. Instantly knew the song to make him feel guilty with, and put it on there, too," he said, relief and a giggle evident in his tone. “And before either of you see it, yes. I can confirm my words are a little braggy, but I like them that way.”

“I’m sure whatever you said was fine, Joshy,” you said to him with a pat on the back of his hand, curious at the song. But. . . you didn't worry too much about it, though, since you had your own shit to worry about.

His lips quirked under his mustache before he asked you the same question as your sister. “So, you first or me? What would you like best, mama?”

“And Close Friends only or do you want Maya to see it, too?” Elsie asked, brow raised when you caught her eyes next. “Honestly, that would be poetic fucking justice for her to–.”

“No, Els. Only Close Friends. No Maya,” you rolled your eyes at her antics. “I don’t want her to feel any type of way over me posting this. Want her to enjoy Christmas and not worry about me or any of this,” you motioned to your belly.

Silently, you added that you really didn’t want to give her any reason to question you. Didn’t want her to catch on to anything you and Jake had done right before they’d left town. . . . or the fact that you were wearing his damned shirt. You liked it being posted in a sort of secret. For a second, you sat and contemplated it, though. You knew what you truly wanted to do. You were ready. Mostly. “I think I’m gonna post mine. Then, if he’s ignored that and my actual post-post, we’ll see if he’s actually online and not interacting with me if he’s viewing your story.”

“Sounds good,” Josh agreed with an approving purse of his lips. “The floor is yours.”

For some reason, you were beginning to question all of your concern about wanting him seeing it. . . was it stupid? Juvenile? “Why do I even care about him being online, again?” You questioned, out loud, to them. It was better than drowning completely in your own thoughts. 

“Because you care about him and you want him to see these,” Elsie said, knowing you better than you knew yourself. “You know you look good and you want him to see you.”

Briefly, you questioned your motives. “But, like. . .is this okay? Am I using my daughter for some sort of weird, personal gain or some shit?”

“Oh, babe. No. Not in the slightest, sis,” Elsie insisted with a squeeze to your bicep. She went to grasp your arm with both of her hands, urging you to look at her. And you did, eyes glazing with tears as you observed the sincerity in hers. “Get out of your head. Are you using your body to take sexy pictures while you look so fucking good pregnant? Yes. I would judge you if you didn’t take sexy maternity pictures. . . And I will judge you if you don’t take more with a professional, later in the pregnancy.”

“You’re taking advantage of being confident in your current state,” Josh added on. You looked over at him, a smirk present on his lips to encourage you. “And I’m glad you are. Every woman should feel divine as fuck in her body while carrying a human life. That’s fucking incredible shit that only you women are able to do and you should fully flaunt the fact that you’re doing that shit. It’s fuckin’ badass, y/n.”

“I completely and wholeheartedly second that,” Elsie tacked on to the end, your gaze going back to hers. She grasped your chin in between her dainty, soft fingers. “Don’t convince yourself of this shit about you being selfish or whatever. I know that's what you're doing. You're confident! It's good to be confident. And you'll get to teach your daughter the same. Don’t you dare dim your light. . . because you won’t want her to dim hers. Yes, you’re posting this to look sexy for Jake, but you did it for yourself, too. And–.”

“And ultimately, it is for Lavender,” Josh finished for Elsie. 

Her name. Your eyes snapped over to him, instantly welling with tears at hearing her name flit from his lips. Out in the wild.

It took him a second to register what you were reacting to, but when he did, his expression went flat and his eyes went sympathetic. “Fuck, y/n. I– I didn’t even–,” he rubbed an eyebrow before using his hands to aid in explaining himself. (Which he did not need to do, but you couldn’t say that yet. All you could do was simply sit there in shock at hearing her name in the damn wild.) “Jacob told me. He told me of the significance of it and everything and he just really wanted me to know. . . . Told me to keep my mouth shut and not tell anyone. Because, duh. He wanted to wait for your time for everyone else to find out. But, again– he did tell me you would most likely be okay with me knowing and I just really fucking hope he was correct in this–.”

“Yes!” You adamantly interrupted him, a huge smile lighting up your features at all of it. “Yes. I absolutely am fine with the fact that he told you. I would’ve told him to, but pregnancy brain and all – just slipped my mind,” you shook your head with a contented smile, catching his eyes once more. “I just– I loved hearing you say her name, Josh.” His own smile widened under his mustache as his eyes got glossy. He reached a hand out for you, which you gripped surely and tightly to communicate your love to him.

It’d definitely caught you off guard. But you truly were elated that Jake had told him. You liked it being only your little circle of people that knew. Just your circle. You hoped Jake viewed it as special as you that only your few chosen people knew about her gender. . .And now, a couple more new the name. Only Josh and Elsie. In your heart, you knew he viewed it the same. You’d bet anything on it.

So, feeling emotions rise in your chest and love pouring out of your ears at the support from all areas. . . you decided it was time. And without a second thought, you went for it. Posted the picture, which you’d edited to be a faded and fairly aesthetic black and white tone. On top of the photo were thoughtfully curated words and a favorite holiday-esque tune of yours to match them.  

Your words, ‘Most definitely ✨falling in love✨ with my favorite gift ever.’ And, to add to the darker and more mysterious vibe of the shot, you’d tacked on a tiny black heart under the text. 

The song you’d chosen was by one of your current favorite artists. Victoria Monet. An orchestral, instrumental rendition of her tune, “We Might Even Be Falling In Love.” The song had been released by her a couple of Christmases ago, with a bunch of her other tracks that she’d added a Christmas sound to. The song fit the overall theme of the story exquisitely. Sexy for Jake to hear as he watched the story, yet loving to fit the message meant for Lavender. And of course, Christmas-y for the season and the text you’d added.

Even with the nerves whistling through your system, you relished in the fact that it was out now. For everyone to see. For a specific person to see. You watched it play through again, admiring the way you looked in it. Elsie had done a damn good job, you were impressed.

“Ready for me to post mine, mama?” Josh asked, breaking you from your reverie of the fact that you’d just posted the picture. 

You blinked at him once. Twice. And then told him yes. But it was barely any time after he posted his story that you decided to finally click through to your notifications. When you did, you saw a name you were awfully enthusiastic to see. And that was an understatement.

jakekiszka liked your photo. 

16m

jakekiszka commented: 💜

16m

Sixteen minutes ago. . . You clicked through to the post, noticing the time stamp implied that you’d posted it nearly the same length of time ago, save for a couple of minutes. Fuck. He’d seen it basically right away? You couldn’t help the smile that floated to comfortably sit on your lips in silent relief. And on top of seeing it right off the bat, he’d been the first to comment, many others following to offer comments and likes to offer congratulations. Elsie and Josh, taking the cake for the first people to like the post. . . But Jake had taken the time to comment. 

And a purple heart, at that. To match yours. For your girl.

Jake’s POV

The initial post had been enough to make me forget where I was. Then she’d posted her story. And the concept of space and time and the people around me mattered fucking none. My dick, doing all of the thinking in my damn pants. . . Daring to react like it wanted to. Goddammit. 

She was wearing nearly nothing, only the most breathtaking lacy and sheer bra and panties. Matching. She’d put fucking thought into this. Her tits, so fuckin' heavy and swollen for what they were preparing. . . And when I noticed it was my goddamned shirt on top of her basically naked body - those perfect tits - I was done for. I knew exactly what she was doing. I crossed my legs, rubbing at my jaw in complete and utter appreciation of her heavenly fucking body. My phone, hidden from Maya the best it could’ve been. 

I made sure Maya was still engaged in whatever she was talking about with her dad before I turned to the side just slightly to avoid her eyes on the screen. And I really took a moment to digest the image on my phone. My thumb was holding the story in place like my damn life depended on it. . . My dick was fucking aching to do something about what I was looking at. . . And right here, at dinner with Maya and her father, I felt myself getting real fucking hard for y/n. Couldn’t stop it if I fuckin’ tried. This image was sealed in my mind. 

Fuck. And I'd been I’d been so damn good. . .

After spending the entire day wanting to continue our conversation from earlier, I hadn’t. A few times, away from Maya’s eyes, I’d opened our thread and almost started something. But I had refrained each and every time. I’d done a damn good job of honoring her wishes by focusing on Maya. I knew that y/n had a point with her insistence on that and I knew it was the right thing to do. Ignore her and think about Maya. . . I knew she’d had a point. 

But, still. After last night, all I wanted to fucking do was wrap myself up in all things y/n. Being away from her right now was fucking torture. And not being able to talk to her at all? Worst part of all. But I couldn’t respect her wishes to not communicate when she was posting shit like this. 

It lit a fire under my skin. . .

The little act even made me grit my teeth in anger at her. Why did she get to pull shit like this, but I wasn’t allowed to simply text her? Didn’t seem fair to me and I fucking wished there was something I could do about articulating this point to her. Words really wouldn't do it justice. I wanted to use my mouth, my hands, my cock to get the damned point through to her. 

But I couldn’t fucking do that at the moment, could I? I crossed my legs tighter together, crushing my fuckin' nuts. Though, I didn't care too much at the moment. . . I was too busy contemplating what was happening in my mind and my damn pants. It was starting to hurt — trying to conceal the throbbing problem in my jeans. So, I decided I needed to say or do something. Teach her a fucking lesson. I just didn’t know how. 

Fuck, she needed to understand that she couldn’t do shit like this when I wasn’t around. When I was with my girlfriend. 

All I wanted to do was make her understand that this wasn’t fair. . . . Wanted to use my body and hers to do so. . . But I fucking couldn’t do that, now could I? Then — as my dick strained just a bit harder in my jeans, threatening to expose me — I got an idea. Without taking even a second to consider anything, I clicked my phone closed before I turned to Maya. 

“I’ve gotta call Josh about something,” I told her, gaining her big brown eyes, making sure to sound as sincere as I could. I felt sort of shitty doing it, but my dick was doing all of the thinking at the moment. My brain was not in charge. “I’ll be real quick.” 

“You’re good,” she smiled, patting my thigh and leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek I didn’t want from her at the present time. “Make it quick, though? This place closes in a couple of hours and I want you to try all of the desserts that come out on the tray. . . I have a story for each and every one.”

Again, not really thinking much, all I could do was offer a quick smile and an ‘mhm’ before rising from my chair quickly and quietly. I did my best to walk with my ass facing the table, covering my front the best I could with my phone and sweater. Without needing much time, thinking on efficiency mode, I found the sign for the bathrooms in no time. 

Once I made it to the family stall bathroom, I unbuttoned my pants for some relief. I sighed at the feeling of my jeans not crushing my fucking pulsing cock. And while, yes, it felt better, it was still not good enough. Not even fucking close. I opened my text thread with her. It only took me half a minute to decide on what I wanted to say.

Me, 9:53 p.m.: okay so

Me, 9:53 p.m.: I’m not allowed to talk to you... But you can apparently get fucking naked and wear my shirt when I’m not there to do something about it?

I reached into my briefs and gave myself a few strokes, getting impossibly harder as I watched her name on my screen. Just her name had my head fuzzy as shit right now. I continued to pay special attention to my dick. It was dense as fuckin' lead, so my hand only offered decent satiation. It was nothing compared to her hand, her mouth. . . And especially not her wet and fucking warm pussy. That shit hugged my dick like a damn glove.

I studied her contact picture in my phone. . . Fuck. She was so damn perfect. No other woman compared. I still had her picture in my phone set as one I’d taken over the summer. . . From that day at Sam’s AirBnB pool. Her, laying on the edge of the pool, arms crossed to hold her up right beside where I still still sat in the pool. She was grinning down at me, smile wide enough that I could see her dimples. Her eyes, squinted shut, under the summer sun. The way her skin glowed under the sun. . . And if I were to click through to see the whole picture, I’d be able to see each and every droplet of water that had been clinging so flawlessly to her soft skin. 

The swimsuit in the contact photo, the same damn one as the post from earlier in the evening. God. . .That post had been pure perfection. The black bra and jeans, the swimsuit. . .I’d clicked through to that first post so quickly— as soon as I’d gotten the notification. (Yes, my post notifications were still on for her. . . I’d initially set them up over the summer when she’d posted quite frequently.) Standing in this bathroom, I came to the realization that the baby reveal post had been the first real post she’d made since summertime, aside from the occasional story. 

The first post alone — an incredible way to come back. Damn. As soon as I had gotten the notification that she’d posted, my heart had started hammering in my chest. Like I was a fuckin’ teenager with a damn crush. She’d had that effect on me since day one. 

The picture of her in her cute little black swimsuit — the one with the lace that shaped seamlessly to her tits. . . Then, there was the new picture of her that it had been compared to. Y/n, posing in the mirror. Wearing only a black bra and worn jeans, the fly undone to show off her cute, round belly. The belly that was holding my baby girl.

Goddamn. 

And those tits. . .I could still feel them, what they'd felt like in my hands. In my mouth. In the picture, they'd been sitting just right in that maternity bra – something I’d never known to be hot until y/n was the one wearing it. I couldn’t help but think she made everything sexier. More beautiful. But god, did I want to hold those motherfuckers in my hands again — grip them and make her whine for more. Lick her tender nipples into my mouth. . . Shit. . . . .My hand continued to wrap around my dick, pumping the best it could. A sad comparison to y/n. . . . . . Fuck, I missed her. 

I went back to Instagram with the hand that still held my phone. When I was back on the app, I had to click away from the story post. Art in its finest form. But, as I exited from it, I mentally promised that image that I’d damn well be back. I just had to look at the other post. Let my delusional ass travel back to summer time. That older photo in the black and white comparison. . . I’d recognized that cute ass photo right away. 

The day it was taken, locked in my fucking memory. The photo from her post had been taken right before we’d left for the pool. I’d caught a glimpse of her taking it, right before knocking on her door with a gentle rap of my knuckles. The door, only being cracked, easily opened for me to enter. . . That had been normal for us. Doors open. Casual entry. God, things had been so damn perfect.

She’d smiled at me with this secretive little grin on her pretty lips. And that had led to me sauntering over to her to take her in my arms. I could remember every detail from the moment— the way she’d melted into my grasp, the freckles that dusted her nose and cheeks, and the way her soft lips had tasted like her coconut chapstick. . . 

Before I could get too carried away with my memory, my phone buzzed in my hand. Her name, floating across the top of my screen. I tapped that shit on sight, letting my eager hand ease up a bit on my dick, but kept a sure hold of it in my flexing fist.

Y/n, 9:57 p.m.: Jacob. What the fuck did I say about texting me?

Oh, fuck no. She was not going to tell me what to fucking do. Not when she’d pulled her shit. She'd known what she was doing with her little photoshoot. That picture with her tits out, pussy just about visible in her lacy panties — and in my clothes. Yeah. . . Y/n was the furthest thing from an idiot. She knew. This meant she was the one who needed a damn talking to.

Me, 9:58 p.m.: oh baby... You will NOT tell me what to do any fuckin more today

Her next reply came quicker, barely enough time for me to register that she'd read mine. 

Y/n, 9:59 p.m.: Yeah? And what gives YOU the right to decide that, Jake? I’m pretty sure I can make MY OWN damn choices, baby. 

Me, 9:59 p.m.: yeah. But you telling me to stop texting you and to focus on my girlfriend… that IS you telling me what to do

Me, 10:00 p.m.: and just like you I get to make my own damn choices. YOUR little stunt tonight is making it pretty damn hard for me to not want to talk to you. Quite frankly… I wanna do more than talk to you 

Me, 10:01 p.m.: looks like I need to teach your ass a little lesson, hm? 

But, after I sent that, I just stood there. My hand, loose and lazing up and down, on my dick, for a good while, waiting for her to answer. After a few long ass minutes, I started to get fuckin’ pissed. I didn’t have time to wait on her shit. She’d started this mess, she needed to fucking finish it. And I was on a stupid fucking time limit. Had to try this goddamn dessert tray. Fuck. I was just aware of one very clear thing. . . I was aware that there was no way I could go out like this. At that thought, I lifted my hand from my aching dick. Damn near ready to bust and lacking real attention. I let my boxers snap against my hips. Leaning against the wall, I got into the best position I could to get a picture for her. 

I opened the camera in my texts with her, letting my hand go to grip my straining cock over my briefs. Tilting my phone just right, I made sure she could see the entire imprint. Every detail. Tip to base. My wrist lifted my sweater just a bit. And from the exposed skin at the bottom of my abdomen and down, it was clear what was happening in my damn underwear. She’d be able to see what the fuck was going on for me right now. What she’d caused. 

As I finished taking the picture, feeling satisfied with the result, my phone buzzed in my hand. Her name, yet again, at the top of my screen. But I couldn’t read her text before I sent the photo, as was the case with iPhones. So, very quickly, I went ahead and sent it so I could see what she’d said. 

Y/n, 10:06 p.m.: Please, Jake. Tell me about this ‘stunt.’ And how it concerns you. 

Oh? Okay.

Me, 10:06 p.m.: you’re wearing my damn shirt, y/n. That’s how the fuck it concerns me

At the same time I finished that text, my picture was finally sent. 

Me, 10:06 p.m.: so. now thanks to you my dick hurts like a motherfucker. I want your tight fuckin pussy around me so damn bad but I can’t have that shit can I?

Shockingly, she didn’t take forever to respond this time. It appeared all she’d needed was a damn reality check.

Y/n, 10:06 p.m.: I never said you couldn’t have my pussy.

She was determined to make me go crazy. . . goddammit. Though, I was soon distracted by her next text, which made it clear to me that she’d seen my photo.

Y/n, 10:07 p.m.: Oh.. okay. Fuck me, then, huh? Wanna fuck me over with a picture like that? Real nice, babe. Way to return the favor.

Dammit. I wished I could fuck her. My hand slipped into my briefs again as I sent my text. I imagined how I'd hold her hips. . . my dick, pounding into that slick heat over and over and over. . . Damn. It was hard to type with one hand, but so fucking worth it to (hopefully) get off with her help. . . It had been too damn long. Come on, y/n. . .

Me, 10:07 p.m.: damn right I’ll fuck you, baby. If I had MY way I’d fuck you right here, right now. Take you out to the fucking middle of this restaurant. Put on a little show for everyone... show them how damn well I can fuck that sweet pussy

The thought was debilitating. My knees, getting weak as I’d typed that shit. I would love to show her off to all of the people in this goddamn establishment. Make everyone else appreciate this perfect woman. Those swollen tits, already so much bigger than they’d once been. And that was considering they’d already been ideal before. Prettiest, perkiest fuckin’ tits. And, the bigger they got, the more of them I got to appreciate. And that ass. . . It just got bigger and rounder, the more she grew with my baby. Then there was the cutest damn bump; always growing with that hard ass work I couldn’t even begin to pretend to imagine. She was working fucking magic in that body every damned day. I'd never admired a woman so much in my life.

Fuck it all. I could've blow my fuckin' load at the thought alone. How indescribably hot it was that she was taking such care, every damn day, of my baby that lived inside of her. My hand began to move in a pattern of torturously slow and a speed right in the middle of fast and slow. . . Had to pace myself. . . I wasn’t going to last with this thought process.

Y/n, 10:08 p.m.: Fuck, Jake. Shut the fuck up.

Me, 10:08 p.m.: no way baby. It’s my turn to make YOU imagine this shit 

Y/n, 10:07 p.m.: Now you’re trying to get the upper hand? Is that how it is, Jake? 

Me, 10:08 p.m.: seems fair… Wouldn’t you say?

Y/n, 10:08 p.m.: I'm just pissed to hell that you’re not going to send me a fully naked picture of your pretty dick. That’s fucking rude, babe.

The little grin that lifted my lips was out of nothing but pure appreciation for her. God. She made my fucking head spin. She was a dream and a half. And now that I’d had a bite of her again, allowed myself to give in to what I’d been keeping myself from? It’d been bad enough when she’d given me that incomparable head at the fuckin’ stoplight a while back. . . A domestic ass grocery trip that had turned into a whole lot more. . . Satisfied more than her cravings that night. 

But, honestly. . . While the head was fuckin’ killer, her body was the one that deserved worship. All of her. . . Goddammit. And now that I knew how much sweeter her pussy tasted? My hand started to move in languid, pulsing pumps up and down my dick, thinking of her body. . . How delicious she was. . . Fuck. It was only a month or so ago, I’d read that pregnant women sometimes emanate a different smell. . . a different taste. . . And now that I knew that shit was goddamned true? I couldn’t control when my hand began to move a touch faster, fist tightening in a way that had my eyes daring to cross. Her pregnant body— fuck everything on this earth that wasn’t her and her beautiful body. 

My mind had been a constant loop of her bedroom. Nonstop. I could still taste her. . . Fuckin’ swore on that shit. Even before pregnancy, nothing on the goddamned earth had tasted better than her release. But now that she was carrying my baby? It was even more magnificent. It was warm fucking honey. More delicious than that. . . the most addictive, intoxicating taste. A drug that I couldn’t get enough of and wanted to keep devouring. I shook my head of this path of thought, coming back to reality to text her back. She was walking on thin damn ice with me.

Me, 10:09 p.m.: you don’t get to talk about me being rude when you started this shit, baby. I wouldn’t be in the fuckin bathroom at this fuckass restaurant if you hadn’t posted your little story

Y/n, 10:10 p.m.: did you listen to the song? 

God, y/n. My hand stilled around my dick, pausing so I could focus on only her. I couldn’t take much more of this. . . 

Me, 10:10 p.m.: couldn’t. You posted it while I was at the damn table with my girlfriend

Y/n, 10:10 p.m.: But you said that you’re in the bathroom now?

Me, 10:10 p.m.: Yes

Y/n, 10:11 p.m.: So… listen to the damn song. Tell me if you remember that melody.

God, her love for music was so sexy to me. I couldn’t even be mad when I let go of my dick to gain some sanity. This woman captivated me on a regular basis with how much she loved music. That wall at home, with racks of vinyl. . . Seriously. Music was a way of life for her. She translated her emotions using it. Just like me. Women like her weren’t only rare, they were fucking extinct. We talked to each other with melodies and rhythms. And sometimes, it was only with our eyes. God.

Like that night at the bar when she’d caught me, unabashedly eyefucking her. Then, to make matters worse, she'd held my gaze like her life had depended on it. I’d seen every emotion pass from her irises to mine. We hadn’t been talking at the time, so this had been a big moment for me. She’d known – she knew – what that song was to us. “You’re All I Need” and “Natural Woman” were our songs. But, for some reason, "You're All I Need", specifically, would forever feel like making love to her. . . There was no stopping the imagining of her tight pussy around my dick when I heard that song in particular. Shit, even that night, I’d reminisced about fucking her to that song with Maya sitting right next to me. 

But. . . I couldn’t feel too bad. Because it was y/n. And to think she’d been sitting there, knowingly pregnant with my baby as we’d shared that moment. . . It made me sort of angry, sure. But not so much anymore. No, now it was just real damn captivating to me that she’d been so openly obvious about all she was feeling. With my baby in her belly. Even if it were just with her eyes. . . her eyes meant the world. 

Carrying Lavender had helped y/n. Our baby girl had assisted in her being braver with her emotions. . . and I fucking loved it. Lavender and music – working together to bring this enigmatic, worthy woman out of her convoluted and complicated shell. She was still hiding, yes, but she was easing back into that girl from the summertime. The one who’d wanted me to stop in the middle of sex to put on an Aretha vinyl. . . . The love I’d felt for her when she’d asked that of me. I’d felt so in love with her in that moment. . . on that rainy morning. I had known then that my love and admiration for her had surpassed any and everything else in my life. . . . God. 

Why did that have to change? Why had she so willingly let me go? Was it all trauma related? Or was there a part of her that really didn’t want me? Because, there was no forgetting how easily she’d drawn lines. I just had to remind my (hopeful) thoughts. . . even if she was coming back to that version of herself now, she had still put up this massive roadblock back then that had changed things. Not everything, but enough. 

Though, whatever may have changed and would continue to change, she’d always hold a place in my heart. Firmly in her grasp. She’d always live there. No matter how much she’d hurt or would continue to hurt me, her spot in my heart was eternal. I felt this all-encompassing ache at the thought of her that I’d never felt before her, or since her. . . Only y/n.

I’d felt it everyday for her since the moment I’d laid eyes on her. And, as I stood in this bathroom, with her on the other side of the phone. . . I realized just how far she’d truly come. Where she was once afraid of letting me in at all, apparently now she was okay with publicly posting a song I should recognize the melody to. . . And with a sensual photograph of her, at that? This was all a huge fucking deal for me. And, well. . . that shit was just hot as fuck. 

As I clicked through my phone, to see her story again, I paused on my home screen for a a brief moment. Appreciated the picture I’d taken of a sonogram shot. . . No gender reveal was obvious – didn’t want anyone knowing that yet. Well, besides Josh. . . who I’d spilled that shit to (couldn’t help myself – had to tell my fuckin’ twin). I couldn’t help but admire my baby girl. She was the first thing I saw on my phone, every time I sused it. She'd successfully secured her place on my lock and home screen. 

I’d just been too consumed in her mother for the past several minutes to pause on her picture until now. . . God, I loved this little girl. So much more than she already knew. Didn’t know until her – how much one could love another - I loved this little, tiny person so goddamn much. This tiny person I hadn’t even held in my arms yet. . . But god, I’d kill for that little girl. Already. 

When y/n’s story was on my phone screen again, I took a moment to just look at her (again). But after I’d taken a proper amount of time to ogle at the damn photo of my dreams, I let the story play through again. Tried to ignore my stupid, impossibly hard dick for y/n, and turned up the sound.

The song on her story was incredible. Not something I’d normally have found to put on a playlist, but it was damned good. And her taste to a T. A track, completely composed with an orchestra. No lyrics. Just melody. A symphonic melody. I had an affinity for orchestral compositions, so I’d immediately closed out the story when the little snippet ended. Searched for it on Spotify, then immediately added it to a playlist I had specifically for that style of music. 

Orchestral Equilibrium was what I’d titled the playlist, long ago when I'd made it. And, I instantly pressed the box and the square, sending the list in a text to y/n. Just wanted her to have access to a playlist I loved so much. Because, apparently, she loved these types of arrangements as well. A lover of philharmonic symphonies, too? On top of her other otherworldly tastes in genre? She was a woman unlike any other, truly. 

Me, 10:14 p.m.: added it to my playlist :) that arrangement is fantastic

Y/n, 10:14 p.m.: 🥹🤭I’m really glad you liked it.

I assumed another text was coming. . . I just knew she’d send something along the lines of “but… do you remember me playing it?”. . . Something of the sort. She’d asked a question, after all. Needed her answer. So, when the ellipses appeared and then disappeared to be replaced by a new text, I wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

Y/n, 10:15 p.m.: Do you remember me playing it though?? 🤔

And there we go, I breathed a laugh to myself as I read it, the grin still stuck on my face. I had quoted it practically verbatim, too. Knew her well. And while I hadn’t heard this version specifically yet, I’d heard one a lot like it. . . So, hastily, so as not to lose y/n on the other end of the phone, I pulled up my Spotify again. 

When I opened the app, it was still showing my Orchestral Equilibrium playlist. It took me zero time to realize it had a new like. One like, where there’d been none before. The grin that floated to my features was the most natural reaction to something so precious. She was precious. Such a small act that. But, I knew that as a fellow music lover, the act was as big to her as it was to me.

After a second, I typed in the song “We Might Even Be Falling In Love.” The title of the song from her story. And the first result, a black and white picture of a man and woman, caught my eye. I recognized it. From y/n’s Apple CarPlay screen. I pressed play on the song, pulled up the album photo to get a good look at it. Yeah. I remembered it. What the screen had looked like the day she’d picked me up from the guitar lesson. The lesson I had not wanted to be at, but kept a positive face about. I had wanted to be with y/n that day. . . Could still remember that shit.

(Same as every day I’d had something going on, when she’d been free. Was even worse when I'd wake up with her wrapped around me and have to say goodbye. . . Wasn't to say that, on those mornings, the goodbye sex wasn't real damn good.)

Music was the way my brain moved. I lived in a constant state of melodious tunings. My mind, an assonance of grandeur, all on its own. I’d gotten so used to it, I hardly realized it wasn’t normal to hear music on a constant loop in your head. But, because my brain worked that way, I could hear a song and be transported back to moments in my past instantly. 

The car’s cool air had been blowing through her lustrous locks and against her radiant, sun kissed face. She might as well have been moving in slow motion — like a fuckin’ romance film. I’d watched the goosebumps appear on her flushed skin, the freckles that’d twinkled on her beautiful face. The twitch of her nose when a few strands of hair had tickled her face.

I’d watched her so closely – observed every intricate detail of her features. She was spellbinding. Irresistibly breathtaking in every possible capacity. It had been out of my control entirely when I’d gone to grip her thigh, wishing I was touching her skin for extra relief from the skin to skin contact. Yet, even though she’d been wearing jeans, I’d taken advantage of what I could do to calm her. She’d seemed burdened, as always. I'd always hated how much she kept on her shoulders. Wanted to take it all away from her. Make things easier.

The way I’d felt for her – it was beyond what words could articulate. I felt tender, yet animalistic for her all at once. I’d wanted to make everything better for her all of the time. The little switches in her mood were so apparent to me. . . I could tell from a mile away if she was thinking or in her head. . . And, for some reason, she had been at that moment. But it was okay. I could make it okay – had to. For her. 

Her cheeks had begun to grow pink, even with the air blowing on her face. So I’d known – she’d felt at least a touch of peace. Her skin reacted beautifully with her emotions, a piece of art on her features that marked a pathway to her soul. 

In that moment, all I’d been able to think about was showing her what she meant to me. And while I hadn’t been in the right place to lay her down and express myself with my body and hers, I could do one thing. When her cheeks had grown a touch more pink, she’d bashfully grinned. The dimple in her cheek, such a tiny detail, but so precious to me. It’d encouraged me. This one way to convey what she meant to me came to mind. . . Carefully, hand still holding tightly to her thigh, I leaned over the armrest and touched my lips to her blushing cheek. Right where the dimple pinched her skin, my mouth met.

Her skin, like the finest velvet, under my lips. Fuck. I’d only lingered for a moment, knowing if I didn’t stop, I’d end up fucking her right there. And we had somewhere to be. Her grandparents were waiting.

But, before I could even move fully away, she’d been swiveling her body. Setting her eyes, once again, on the street ahead before she put the car in drive. Why is she pulling away so quickly? What do I mean to her?, I’d wondered. Still, those thoughts constantly cycled through my head. What did I mean to her? In that moment, my eyes had drifted to her thigh and my hand there. My hand. . . it looked so fucking good against her, holding her.

Underneath my hand, I could feel her muscles flex as she pressed down on the brake to keep the car in place. She’d been busy on her phone, thumbs moving as she scrolled. Without even glancing at the screen, I’d already known she was picking the perfect music to serenade us to our destination. Music was a big fuckin’ deal to y/n. And that was fucking heaven for me. The first thing about her that made me fall.

And now, it made my heart beat fast for one more reason. I know that she had our baby girl listening to the best damn music. Lavender would, naturally, love music. I knew it. And that made my heart fuckin' rush with an exhilarated sort of adulation.

The song she’d ended up choosing, I’d genuinely really liked. It hadn’t been my taste, per se, but it could’ve been. Reminded me of her and her very eclectic taste. This style, one she really loved. I'd noticed. Those songs heavy with the bass and rhythm. A true rhythm and blues admirer. The way the bass bumped against the speakers. And the rhythm, really fucking delicious. It made my head bob, foot tapping to keep in time. Good fuckin’ music, honestly. More Josh’s speed than mine. But, more than him, it really, truly reminded me of y/n.

And the fact that I correlated this type of music to her. . .made it even better to me than if I were to try to give it a shot for Josh. No, for y/n, I was willing to immerse myself in her taste of music. Just a way for me to swim even deeper into the crashing waves of her soul. 

“I actually like this,” I’d commented, trying to make things seem okay. Because they were. Had to convince her. Was she doing okay? God, I hadn’t been able to tell. . .

She was worth knowing that her world was okay. That she was safe. She was worth all of that and more.

The summer had been one of the most incredible fantasies, come to life. Just a bit of a girl I wanted all of, but still. I’d gotten a bit. . . More than I could've gotten had I continued to dick around with her like the asshole I'd been before. So, I knew I'd treasure what I had gotten -forever. Though, frequently, back then when I'd have these thoughts, I’d reminded myself that she hadn’t wanted forever. 

Nonetheless, I’d caught onto these little quirks she had. I'd decided, however long she’d give me the access to her soul, I'd use every moment I could to discover more, more, more. Because of this, I had started to really notice those minuscule moments where she’d begin to pull away. Even if she did want to pull away. Even if she didn’t want me, I’d still wanted to help her. All I wanted to do was make things easier for her. Be a safe place for her. Her muscle had seemed to relax under my touch once she’d started to drive. Though, I had not wanted to move my hand from her. In fact, I did what the fuck I could with our location. Even if I couldn’t lay her down, I could still appreciate her - her body. Communicate my care for her, to her with my touch. 

I’d let my thumb twirl over her thigh, making thoughtful circles. She’d sighed, seemed to enjoy the attention. And when she’d done that, I’d known she was feeling better. So, I continued, urging her to talk to me. Always wanted to talk to her. “What’s it called?”

I paused the song on my phone int the Carmella's bathroom, the memory still so clear in my head. And, the title of it. . . Had she been telling me something? With the song? The title, subject matter of the track. . . Made me wonder. My mind was suddenly, in the present time, going insane at the possibility that she’d been telling me something with her song choice way back then. . . Had I been too much of a moron to realize? But - no. It didn’t matter now — was too late now. 

Me, 10:17 p.m.: That night at your grandparents :) You played it on the way there 

Me, 10:18 p.m.: I really did like the composition of it on your story. It’s gorgeous. Accompanies your picture real damn well 🔥

Y/n, 10:18 p.m.: 🤭I really love it too… I thought of something after I posted it, though. 

Me, 10:19 p.m.: and what’s that?

Y/n, 10:19 p.m.: Something else happened right before I played that for you, too. Remember? 

Yes. Fuck yes, I remembered the entire night. Every single detail.

I'd taken my time with her that night. Laid her on her back, her tits, laying just like always on her soft chest, so pretty, full, and supple. I'd taken one of her smooth thighs and held it up by my arm as I'd fucked her with raw passion. Slow thrusts, on my knees to get the best angle to feel every bit of her, to make sure she could feel me. . . Every whimper and whine and moan that had fallen from her lips that night, the praise and encouragement I'd given her for the sounds - a little more notable than before. A momentous occasion, I'd call it. It had just felt different for me. After I'd witnessed her, breaking down. . . openly crying and panicking - desperate for comfort - in her grandparents' hallway.

The noises she'd made, as I fucked her slow and deep, hitting every inch of her with a feverish force. I'd taken that night as an opportunity to use my body as a vessel - to help her truly understand the fact that I was a safe ground for her to fall on. I always wanted to be safe person for her. I could only hope she felt as safe with me as I longed for her to. Then, at the end, as she'd fallen apart, soaking my dick in her release, she'd moaned from the pit of her tummy to the depths of her chest. Almost like she felt that same relief from the new connection. That beautiful sound, forever a part of my walls. Like it should have been.

This newer, revered sort of dance that had started happening between our bodies. It had always been more with her than any other woman, but that one morning, with the songs - things had changed. She'd given me a glimpse of her head and heart and past. And then directly after that conversation, the way I'd held her body on the pallet of blankets. I'd watched her so closely, every line of her face one I wanted memorized for all time. And, I'd almost damn well spilled into her on that living room floor because I'd been so distracted by her face and her noises - fuck. And then. . . there was that night, after her grandparents'. Before and afterwards, she’d let me in, just a little more - opened up to me. In the hallway and then right there in my bed. As we’d laid in my bed, sweaty and fulfilled. Her hair fanned over my heaving chest, when she'd told me more details from her past. Told me enough that it had impacted me. I'd vowed to help her that night, and I'd kept that promise. Intended to keep it. As long as she'd let me.

But, now wasn't the time for reminiscing - my dick twitching in my pants, reminding me itself to get on with the fucking matter at hand. The memories of fucking her and the closeness - weren't doing me any favors. Goddamn. I needed her help. With one thing in particular. Soon.

Y/n, 10:20 p.m.: It was the night I got to see Maya for the first time. Realized you’d been seeing this fucking goddess of a woman for lessons all summer. Felt so insecure that you’d been around her for her lessons every week.

Again, with her assumptive fucking ass. Here we went. . .again.

Me, 10:20 p.m.: well. For one it wasn’t every week. She didn’t have lessons every week 

Be easier on her, Jacob, a voice counseling me. One that sounded strangely like Josh.

Me, 10:20 p.m.: and two… I’m sorry you felt insecure… but there was never anything you needed to feel insecure about, honey 

There were a few minutes between that text and her next one. . . I could only assume she was pondering something. Always in her damn head. I walked a fine line whenever she’d get like this. I always contemplated whether to insert myself in her thoughts to get them to shut up. Or, whether it was best to just let her think through it, so she could think and heal – uninterrupted. 

She had to figure some of this shit out on her own (with Gia’s help, of course). . . But it didn’t mean it made it easy for me to just sit around and watch. I hated watching her, while also knowing she was spiraling. This was at least the slightest bit easier, though. . . Since I didn’t have to watch her pretty face fold in that way it would. Her brows scrunched, mouth puckered, or a straight line as she’d chew the inside of her lip or cheek. This incredible woman, rigid with cruel self doubt and years worth of confusion that was unraveling. I typed and deleted and re-typed a few things. . . But, after a minute of doing so, I decided I needed to give her space.

I’d learned there was little I could do to get her out of her headspaces, anyhow, so I usually just waited them out. . . Unless I found it was absolutely necessary for me to step in and battle the voices. Help her battle these hateful, never-ending thoughts. . . So, instead, I used my time for good and checked on that Ovia app she’d told me about. Checked on Lavender’s growth for the week. Just to remind myself of all of the terms. . . I checked this thing every fucking day. Wanted to know exactly what was going on with her little body.

Every time I'd checked the app, I'd read through the same paragraphs of information for that given week. The first paragraph of information for this week explained a bunch. Her neurons, making connections with her muscles. . . helping her to gain strength in her legs. . . Her arms and legs, in proportion with the rest of her tiny body, now. . . Only about nine inches long (at most). . . About nine ounces (again, at most). . . She was starting to become covered in a waxy substance called Vernix Caseosa, which protected her unharmed skin from any amniotic fluid. . .I was losing myself in my girl, completely forgetting about everything else for a minute as everything became about her. My body, the least of my concerns – losing speed and fucking forgotten as it all became about Lavender. But, I hadn’t been able to get much further than the first bit of information. Because, after refreshing my memory of a few of her developments, my phone was buzzing in my hands. Y/n’s name, at the top of my screen.

I gave a silent goodbye to Lavender as I went back to her mother.

Y/n, 10:23 p.m.: It’s fine. It’s in the past now. I just thought about that shit after I posted it… Sooo, I’m just glad I gave that shit a new correlation tonight. Now it belongs to being excited for my baby.

Her saying that made something in my mind click. It had clicked before, of course. The night we got high — first time I’d fully realized. Her own damn mouth, telling me so. . . And multiple times since, when she’d spoken of Maya. . . When she’d seen Maya that night, after the lesson — that had really been the beginning of the end for us. Knowing y/n, it made perfect sense for her to go down a rabbit hole at seeing Maya. Seeing how beautiful Maya was. . . Should have known y/n would take that the wrong way and compare herself. Why did she do that though? If only she would’ve known. No one had ever compared to her in my mind. Y/n's beauty was unparalleled.

I’d tried to explain it all to her. Tried real damn hard to communicate my feelings on it to her. . . Over and over. She just never listened. Or cared to listen to me. She’d chosen to be stubborn, give in to the harshness of her thoughts. . . continued to do so. And now. . . I was with Maya. In a very serious relationship with her. And y/n was being very clear about it being the past. She had no desire to discuss it. No desire to approach the shit that had come from that night she’d seen Maya for the first time.

Now my mind was spinning with the following weeks. The one truly positive thing that had followed was the night we’d conceived Lavender. The night we'd gotten high. . . Then how it’d all fuckin' downspiraled. . . With no way for me to stop it. No competing with y/n’s stubborn insecurities and persistent moments of self-deprecation. . . That only led to self-destruction. I’d had no chance to get through. Her mind had been made up and everything had changed. Those weeks after, when I’d taken time to fall for Maya, after y/n had closed herself off completely. . . I hadn’t wanted to look at her, she'd hurt me so damn bad. But. . . I hadn’t wanted to leave the apartment, either. Even with more money, I’d wanted to stay close to her. I was fucked in the brain. Stupid.

But I’d been desperate for her — all the while, heartbroken and lost and confused. And she hadn’t given two fucks about any of it. And that was a paramount reason I'd stayed with Maya. She was consistent. Nothing to question about her intentions with me. While y/n had ignored me, Maya had been there to pick up every single piece - just like she'd been there for me before. . . after my first heartbreak.

The same woman as before. . . Maya was always. the. same. Except this time, Maya and I hadn't been 'the same'. We’d become more. It meant more to me than aimlessly fucking a ridiculously hot woman against and on every solid surface of her giant home. Because the relationship with y/n had been different than the relationship with Amelia. After Amelia, I'd believed love was nothing more than a social construct to destroy the human mind. Stopped believing in it. Because I'd realized that I hadn't actually been in love with Amelia for a long while. She'd been a high school girlfriend that I'd tried to extend past high school.

That was why y/n had made me so angry at first. When we'd first met. I hadn't wanted to be in love again because I hadn't thought love was real. And she'd shown me, so damn quickly, that I'd been dead wrong about love. Because, with y/n, I felt it all. Exponential. Otherworldly. An astronomical and cosmic connection, only designed in the stars for us to find. A purposeful accident, finding true love. I'd been destined to find y/n. Everything had led me to her, it'd seemed. Love had been real. A way of life, not a pointless, hollow sensation like I'd believed before her.

So, after y/n, I'd been so hungry to find that connection with someone else. I'd been embarrassed and ashamed that I'd fallen so hard for a woman that hadn't felt the same for me. . . . At least not enough to fight for me. I'd known love was real this time. And I'd needed to find it with someone else to erase the marks y/n had carved into my heart. So, who better than a woman I'd already gotten to know, just a little, over the summer? And even better that she'd been someone that made y/n jealous. That had been an asshole move, yes. But, wise decisions weren't ever made with a genuinely broken heart. Though, I'd come to quickly find that the love I'd felt with y/n was exclusive to y/n. I'd found a love in Maya, but not the same as y/n. I didn't want to admit that I loved her anymore. I'd worked to erase that. . . But my love for Maya's just paled in comparison to the love I'd felt for y/n.

So, while y/n had lose some of me, she hadn't lost all of me. She still had me. A big fuckin’ piece. Always would. And no, the ‘piece’ of me wasn’t our Lavender. Our Lavender really just worked as an additional metaphor for how much of me y/n truly had. . . I was an eternal fool for y/n. 

But. . . Not completely. I wasn’t fool enough to risk my heart in her hands again. Because, well. She’d proven she didn’t want to fight for me. She didn’t want to listen. She hadn’t listened to me.

And, at the moment, I had to reject the overwhelming urge to make this conversation become any more than it was. . . Reject the urge to fight for her. When I wasn’t sure she’d ever do it for me. We’d lost that. That chance. Because I was with Maya now. And I didn’t want to make that shit change. That stability. Not for the very real possibility that y/n would only ever repeatedly say no to me. All for the sake of her own damned pride or whatever the fuck. . . Hell, her lack of love for me, perhaps? I really did still question the hell out of that shit. All I knew for sure was that the woman I was currently with loved me. And I loved her. Fuck yes I loved Maya. Who wouldn’t?

But. . . when I glanced down at the screen, my heart was no longer on Maya. Because I saw a word. An important word. That nine ounce little girl. . . whose arms and legs were finally proportional with her body. . . This word that brought me back, crawling on my knees like a lost puppy, to y/n. Because on top of being so much to me, she was also the mother of my child. . . A fucking superwoman. Just had to correct her phrase. . . 

Me, 10:25 p.m.: our baby… :)  

Y/n, 10:25 p.m.: Yes. Of course. Our baby. :)😘

Ridiculous as it was, I had to resist the urge to cry. I had never felt this effect from a woman until her. This incessant, perpetual longing. A longing that hurt, yet felt so fulfilling, all at once. And it just continued to be true; because, no matter how mad she made me, my dick was still plenty hard. Only for her. It was still ready, for something it wasn’t going to get tonight. I was literally staying rock fuckin' solid at the simple, pathetic fact that she was texting me. And, with barely any time to process it, she was texting me again.

Y/n, 10:26 p.m.: By the way… you mentioned you’re in the bathroom? 

Y/n, 10:26 p.m.: …are you still? 

Didn’t know where this was going, but it took me no time to respond. My dick twitched in anticipation. . . Getting harder again, coming back to life fully with almost zero assistance. . . Sorcery. 

Me, 10:27 p.m.: yep. All because of YOUR damn picture. Fuckin ridiculous. All your damn fault 

Y/n, 10:28 p.m.: Well, you got your fucking revenge, Jacob. I had to go to the damn bathroom after YOUR picture. And those texts… about fucking me??? Damn it, Jacob. Thank god for family stalls.

Me, 10:28 p.m.: you’re telling me lol 

Y/n, 10:29 p.m.: And a safety rail to lean my ass against… better angle for my fingers. Humiliating as fuck, but. It's what I have. You knew you’d do this to me, Jacob Thomas… 😒

And… my hand was going to hold my dick. Yet again. The back of my head hit the wall of the one stall. This was torture. My dick was red fuckin' hot with this aggravating need for her. . . 

Me, 10:29 p.m.: damn straight I knew that shit, baby. You gonna fuck yourself well with those fingers for me? Make that pussy ache a little more for me?

I stroked my dick slowly. But, as good as it felt, it could only be so enjoyable. My hand was not even nearly soft enough to replicate her hands. Fuck me. I needed her.

Y/n, 10:29 p.m.: Fuck, Jake. Yes… So wet for you, baby. Gonna do the best I can to pretend my fingers are your dick... but I know they won’t even fucking compare. Miss it so bad... Been so long.

God. My fist tightened around myself, desperate for the pressure. Still wasn’t enough. I could feel sweat, accumulating at my hairline. My hair, sticking to my neck as my breath came out in hot puffs. I was a mess.

Y/n, 10:30 p.m.: And… you were right when you said I started it. Really fucking loved wearing your shirt. Made me miss you more than I already was. And I just had to include you in those pictures somehow… 💜

Fuck. The heart? And she was admitting that she missed me? Today had been a clusterfuck of emotions. . . My heart was barely holding on. . .She was so damn special to me. And I needed her so desperately at this moment. Hated the stupid ass result of last night. 

Me, 10:31 p.m.: I miss you baby. So damn bad

She didn’t respond to that right away. It made me worry for a hot damn minute about whether or not I’d said too much and freaked her out. . . But I didn’t sit there for too long. Made myself gather my thoughts so we could finish this damn thing. My dick was begging me to do something about it. Matter at hand, Jacob.

Me, 10:34 p.m.: so that post...

Y/n, 10:34 p.m.: What about it?

Her instantaneous response reassured me that I hadn’t needed to worry, so that made it easy for me to pick up exactly where I wanted. . . Start us down the path that I was desperate to go down. 

Me, 10:35 p.m.: let’s talk about you wearing my shirt

Y/n, 10:35 p.m.: Let’s.

Me, 10:35 p.m.: you wore it for me? Thought about me every time you spread your pretty legs for those pictures? 

Y/n, 10:35 p.m.: Jake. Let’s just say it’s safe to assume that if I post myself in that type of position, it’s for you. Whether I’m in your clothes or not… 😶

Y/n, 10:36 p.m.: I really did think about you the whole time I was taking them… 

Hell fuckin’ right she thought about me. . . .

Me, 10:36 p.m.: oh yeah? 

Y/n, 10:36 p.m.: Yeah. Your shirt felt so good against my nipples, baby… :( Might sound weird, but...

My hand squeezed tight at the base, flexing intermittently to get some mild relief. Then, I skated to the top, massaging only my tip. . . Imagined her mouth. How good it would feel to have my dick, about ready to bust, pressed between her tits. . .

Me, 10:37 p.m.: fuck, y/n. Not weird at all baby. I hope to god it helped you in some way. Hated leaving your beautiful body last night

Y/n, 10:38 p.m.: Not my favorite situation. But it is what it is. 

Me, 10:38 p.m.: is what it is

Yeah, Jake. It is what it fuckin’ is and it will continue to be like this if you don’t get a damn move on. 

Me, 10:39 p.m.: so my shirt… did you get yourself off after you took those? Wearing it?

Y/n, 10:39 p.m.: No, actually… :( Went to dinner with Elsie and Josh right after taking them. No time. Didn’t help that they made me wait for pictures while they had a damn quickie… lol. Got behind on time… no time for my imagination to go as wild as I wanted… 

Me, 10:40 p.m.: those fuckers… 

Y/n, 10:40 p.m.: Literally. Hahah :p 

I glanced at the time at the top of my phone. . . I’d been in here for forty minutes. . . If this didn’t already look suspicious, god knew it was about to. . . If I didn’t get the fuck out of here and back to that table.

Me, 10:40 p.m.: but you had all that time while they were doing that shit… had you already been in my shirt?

Y/n, 10:41 p.m.: No. :( I would’ve taken that opportunity to get off to you, wearing your clothes… right in the spot you fucked me with your mouth last night. 

God help me. My dick throbbed in my hand. I felt it – that familiar sensation. . . . But I needed something more. I wasn’t going to finish until I had what I wanted from her. . . And I knew exactly what it was that I wanted.

Y/n, 10:41 p.m.: Promise I would have done it… 🤞

Me, 10:42 p.m.: prove it, then 

Y/n, 10:42 p.m.: How the fuck am I supposed to do that? I don’t have your shirt. 

Me, 10:42 p.m.: you damn well know how, sweetheart

Y/n, 10:42 p.m.: Oh, do I?

My lips curled into a wry smile, my hand pausing on my cock to focus on her attitude. . . She was something else. And I needed her to quit with this shit before I decided to really take it out on her tomorrow night. . . She wouldn’t even know what was coming when I’d finally have the chance to walk through our front door. . .

Me, 10:43 p.m.: y/n. Baby. tell me what the fuck you’re wearing before I stop playing nice.

Y/n, 10:43 p.m.: You act as though I’m not pregnant with your child. Show me some respect. 

What she didn’t realize (or, maybe she did) was that there wasn’t a single woman that I respected more than her. She had all of my respect held in the palms of her pretty hands. Right where she held my useless heart. Her mind, her unparalleled beauty, her immaculate body. . .Fuck. I needed her. Every bit of her. My hand itched to continue its ministrations. . . But I had to get her to work with me.

Me, 10:44 p.m.: y/n. Dammit. I know you are and that shit turns me the fuck on. You know this. Jesus fuck.

Me, 10:44 p.m.: it’s why I’m in this bathroom with my hand down my pants right now. The fact that you put that gorgeous body that’s holding my baby on display... You’re making me wait and you know damn well how all of this is making me feel. How your body makes me feel... 

Y/n, 10:45 p.m.: Do I? 

Her little games were doing something real damn bad to me. I dropped my dick with an exhausted huff. I grasped my phone in both of my hands, willing my dick to be patient. If I kept playing with myself, I wasn’t going to last worth shit. And I needed to fucking last. She needed to stop. . . . Was walking a real fragile line with me right now. . .

Me, 10:45 p.m.: if you ask me that question one more damn time…..

Me, 10:45 p.m.: seriously. Need I give you a play by play of last night? Did I not make that shit stick? Did my mouth not do a good enough job for you? Seemed to, but seems like you’re not thinking about how well I treated you… hm?

Y/n, 10:46 p.m.: Fuck, Jake. Of course it stuck. I can still feel you between my thighs… So damn wet for you right now. Have been since you left. I just... NEED you. I don't think you understand the dire need, baby. I’m fucking miserable as hell that you’re not here. Need you so damn bad. 

Me, 10:46 p.m.: there we go, sweetheart…

The fuck I didn't understand. I understood real damn well. I couldn’t get her sweet taste out of my mouth if I had tried. Fuck that dessert tray. After last night, I was completely convinced that there was nothing on this planet as sweet as her. Intoxicating. Addicting. My entire body was on edge for her and the things her body could do. . . If I, god forbid, never had her again, I’d spend the rest of my days searching for a taste so sweet. It would be a fruitless outcome, though. Only she could ever satisfy such an intense craving. 

Y/n, 10:47 p.m.: And that damn shirt was nothing compared to your mouth. 

Me, 10:47 p.m.: I hope the fuck it wasn’t. I don’t want anything else on your body that makes you feel as good as my mouth does 

Y/n, 10:48 p.m.: You don’t need to worry about that, baby. I’m not the one on a date with my girlfriend, now am I? 

And there she was again, walking that extremely fragile line. . . .

Me, 10:48 p.m.: watch it

She was quick with her response to that. Seemed like she’d been waiting for it.

Y/n, 10:48 p.m.: Why? When I’m going to have to think about HER getting you off all fucking night? Nothing against her, but… damn it. The idea of another woman on you makes me want to tear down this entire establishment. 

Fuck. My dick was pleading for attention from me. The way she’d said all of that made me want to drop everything and go to her. . . . Let her be the woman with my dick in her mouth. God only knew I wanted her to be the woman doing that. . . At least for tonight. Didn’t want anyone else.

Y/n, 10:49 p.m.: These pregnancy hormones are no joke. Lol. 

Yeah. . . and neither was the idea of leaving my girlfriend, high and dry in her hometown. Knew I couldn’t do that shit. So, y/n needed to do what she could from there to prove to me that she could be the woman getting me off. . . Do what she could to make me reach that peak. . . It wasn’t impossible. Not at all. 

Me, 10:50 p.m.: Y/n. Maya does not have to be the one getting me off tonight… I’m talking to YOU for a reason. I’ve left her at the damn table for you

Y/n, 10:50 p.m.: What does she think you’re doing??

Me, 10:50 p.m.: the fuck does that matter?

Y/n, 10:50 p.m.: It matters.

Dear god.

Me, 10:51 p.m.: she thinks I’m talking to Josh

Y/n, 10:51 p.m.: ??? This entire time?!

Y/n, 10:51 p.m.: Jacob Thomas Kiszka. Get back out to the table. Jesus.

This woman was surely mistaken if she believed I was about to move out of this bathroom in this state. Absolutely fuckin’ not. Besides. . . I didn’t want to follow her instructions. I’d told her this.

Me, 10:52 p.m.: what did I tell you about telling me what to do? 

Y/n, 10:52 p.m.: What the fuck are you going to do about it from there, smartass? I don’t need her to find out you’re talking to me and be mad at me. So, please. It’s Christmas. Supposed to avoid the negative shit at this time of year.

If Maya were to find out (god, please, no) and wanted to be mad at y/n, that would be fucking ridiculous. I wouldn’t let her be mad at y/n over this. If she were to say something, I would correct that shit right away. But she wasn’t going to find out it was y/n I was speaking to. . . Wanted to keep this thing a secret, so it could last as long as possible. . . Just like summertime, if this was what I was going to get with y/n (all she'd give and all I’d let myself have, too), I wanted to savor it.

Me, 10:52 p.m.: why would I do that yet when I haven’t gotten what I wanted? 

Y/n, 10:53 p.m.: What is it that you want? Want me to talk to you until you finish? Let's get it done, then. So you can go back to the table.

Okay, the fucking attitude needed to stop.

Me, 10:53 p.m.: jesus. Don’t think you could sound more thrilled if you tried

Y/n, 10:53 p.m.: Well, I’m pissed, Jake. Pissed that this isn't happening in person. Pissed that I couldn’t do it last night. Pissed you’re not here still. Wanna get down on my knees for you more than anything. Suck that pretty cock clean...Fuck! But all I can do is WISH I fucking could. Like an idiot. It all just pisses me the fuck off. 

Y/n, 10:54 p.m.: Happy?

Damn. I was just relieved we were, apparently, in the same damn boat.

Me, 10:54 p.m.: well, no. I’m not ‘happy’ at all... I’m pissed about all of that too

Y/n, 10:54 p.m.: Just hate that we have to do this through the phone. It sucks and it’s stupid. 

Me, 10:54 p.m.: and I agree with that too... I’m sorry baby :(

Y/n, 10:55 p.m.: Not your fault her dad lives twelve hours away. Ha :/ 

Me, 10:55 p.m.: What can I do for you? Wanna help you feel better now. First. Now that I know you're as sad as I am. Need you to be better... 

Y/n, 10:55 p.m.: Um, no…? I wanna help YOU, Jake. However I can, from here. I need to be the one to please you, baby. Let me.

And, like an asshole, I couldn't deny her. Wanted to hold true to my word, but. . . She'd gotten me here, after all.

Me, 10:55 p.m.: oh yeah?

Y/n, 10:56 p.m.: Baby, I take f u l l responsibility for being the one that caused you to be in that damn bathroom. And I intend on NOT letting anyone else see you through it… That dick is MINE to take care of right now and I promise I’ll do it well.

Well then. If she could prove to be a good girl, she’d be able to see me through it. . . And my dick was absolutely hers. She was damn right.

Y/n, 10:56 p.m.: What can I do for you, baby?

My hand jerked against my dick at the mere thought of what I was about to ask her for. . . Had been thinking about them all night. . .

Me, 10:57 p.m.: I wanna see those beautiful tits… need to see ALL of you

Y/n, 10:57 p.m.: Go look at your girlfriend’s. 

The way my eyebrow raised at my screen. The scoff that left my lips, entirely provoked by her behavior. . . She was testing me. Not being good for me. . . So, I’d test her right back. See if she truly wanted to be a little tease. . . And I was genuinely wondering. . . Wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing with this. I assumed she was playing around, but. . . Just in case.

Me, 10:58 p.m.: is that really what you want me to do?

Her response was instantaneous.

Y/n, 10:58 p.m.: Not at all. 

Okay. Was just being a little tease, then. . . Had a feeling. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming. . .

Me, 10:59 p.m.: that’s what I thought. Don't be a fucking brat, baby... you know better

Me, 10:59 p.m.: Yes I do... I'm sorry. 🧎‍♀️

Oh. On her knees? Fuck. If only she were fucking here. Before she took any picture, I had to know. So, with a swift thumb, I began my burning question. 

Me, 10:59 p.m.: tell me first…

Y/n, 10:59 p.m.: Anything.

Don’t say that. Fuck.

Me, 11:00 p.m.: you still wearing that lacy thing from your picture? Under your clothes? I could see the entire outline of your nipples through that bra… And those panties did very, very little to hide you… 

Damn I wanted to get possessive so badly. Kept typing and re-typing. . . But. . . I had literally zero say in that considering I chose to not be with her. It was just. . . the more I thought about how revealing that shit was — how it hadn’t been for only me. I wanted her to know that sense of jealousy. Wanted her to know how my stomach twisted at the thought of anyone else seeing her like that. Wanted her for my eyes only. But I knew that was not right and not the move. Sometimes, I was ashamed of the way my brain worked. . . Stupid ass shit that came with the chemically wired male brain. It was what I always accredited feelings like that to. At the end of the day, I was only a man. A man who was weak for her. . . and that body was just too damn beautiful for me to be willing to share it. But I had to be okay with sharing it. She wasn’t mine. And she could flaunt that body if she wanted. Whether we were together or not.

Y/n, 11:02 p.m.: That was the point ;)

When my phone buzzed next, my eyes went to the time. And my stomach fell. Because, fuck. It was already past 11:00? I couldn’t even take time to appreciate her text. Because, when I'd glanced at the time, I'd felt like shit momentarily. This had taken much longer than I’d initially intended. . .I needed to finish this. And while I loved her flirtiness, my question was still hanging in the air and I needed an answer before we moved on.

Me, 11:02 p.m.: you still haven’t answered me.

Y/n, 11:02 p.m.: What was the question, again? Must’ve forgotten.

Me, 11:03 p.m.: why are you playing dumb with me? do you seriously enjoy putting me through this?

Y/n, 11:03 p.m.: 🤭

She was so goddamn cute. Only y/n could succeed in making emoji reactions cute. Never felt like that before her about the stupid ass yellow faces.

Me, 11:03 p.m.: well. Since you won’t answer me about the lace… I think the least you could do for me is let me see your tits

Y/n, 11:04 p.m.: Jesus. A bit needy, aren’t we?

Me, 11:04 p.m.: a bit patronizing, aren’t you?

Seriously? Out of everything, the word patronizing was going to burst her bubble? I could only guess that was why I was left on read for two solid minutes.

Y/n, 11:06 p.m.: 🙄 oh yeah? Patronizing? Asshole.

Yep.

Me, 11:06 p.m.: 😒 dear god, y/n

Y/n, 11:06 p.m.: Practice a little patience, Jacob. You really don’t think you’ll get what you want?

Patience? I had given her nothing but patience. I didn’t even have time for patience at the time being, but I’d damn well given it to her. Had no choice.

God, no girl had ever put me in such a state. I felt utterly pathetic standing in a fucking bathroom, stroking myself because of the unrelenting desire I felt for her. And the little game she was playing with me. . . She knew what she was doing to me. She was no fool. I swallowed what little saliva was left in my dry mouth when I watched those little bubbles appear under her last text. Waiting, patiently, to see those incredible tits that nothing could compare to. . . Because apparently, I was going to get what I wanted. . . The pure anticipation of seeing them pop up on the screen of my phone had my cock pulsing, throbbing. Fuck. I needed her so bad – it was hurting me. What the fuck had she done to me?

Y/n, 11:08 p.m.: Here you go, baby 😘

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

But – I stood there for a bit. . . wondering why I was seeing only words. No picture. Had to be the fucking cell service. Why was the service such shit in this goddamned bathroom at this very moment? Several seconds, too many seconds passed. . . as I waited for the next text from her to come through. 

And when it finally did. . . God, such a little fucking tease. 

Me, 11:09 p.m.: y/n. 

Y/n, 11:09 p.m.: Yes? ;)

Me, 11:09 p.m.: you know what I want, sweetheart…  

Y/n, 11:10 p.m.: I was just answering your question about the lace piece... AND I showed my boobs. Just like you asked… I’m confused… Is that not what you wanted? 🤔

Well, she was right about that. She certainly answered my question. She was still donning that pretty black lace. Almost sheer enough to see what I was craving. Almost. Enough to make my dick ache all the more. So impossibly fucking hard for her. I needed more. 

The way she’d pulled her sweater below her tits, using her forearm to push them up, covering herself just enough with it that I couldn’t see everything the bra's material could’ve shown me. . . . Still, I bit my lip and willed my dick to calm down. Just the thought of her bare tits was enough to get me off. I had to see them. . . Nothing less. Couldn’t go the rest of the godforsaken night without having a photo of her tits to get me through it. 

Me, 11:11 p.m.: come on, baby... you know that’s not what the fuck I want. I need to see ALL of you... you give me what I want and I'll return the favor... 

I wanted to be pissed. But, fucking hell. I just couldn’t. She was my kryptonite. The sweat was pooling on my palms. My phone was threatening to slip out of one hand, the other gripped tight around my dick, imagining it was her instead. (Fucking hilarious that I was even trying to imagine it was her — she had the warmest fucking pussy. . . And so damn wet now that she was pregnant.  Couldn’t even explain how incredible that was, by the way - not even to myself.)

Y/n, 11:12 p.m.: Yeah? And what might that favor be?

Jesus. I could hear her saying that to me. Hushed and sultry, the sexiest voice I’d ever known. Especially in these types of moments. She’d adopt a little rasp to her tone, just enough that her velvet voice would deepen just a bit. It took everything in me to not just call her. Listen to that pretty voice while I look at her incredible tits. I knew I couldn’t, though. This shit was risky enough. Couldn’t add her another layer to it. 

Me, 11:12 p.m.: well, you seemed awfully bent out of shape over not getting to see all of my dick… we help each other out in this little mess we’ve created?

Y/n, 11:13 p.m.: Oh, so now you’re bribing me… Lucky enough for you, I’m not opposed to a little bribery. Especially if it means I get what I want. 

What she wants. Fuck. 

Y/n, 11:13 p.m.: And yes. Seeing your dick is exactly what I want right now, so.... 😘 Just give me a sec, k?

I couldn’t bring myself to type another fucking word. All I could do was wait, stroke myself slowly in anticipation for her next message. That blinking ellipses. . . taunting me as I used every bit of my strength to not crumble. I had to hold myself the fuck together. 

And then. . . The photo finally came in. 

Those perfect, gorgeous tits on the screen of my phone. Fuck. No matter how many times I’d seen them, it was like the first time every time. The most beautiful set of full tits. Fuckin' stacked. She'd pushed them up with her forearm that rested beneath them. Her right hand cupping her left breast, fingers touching the perked nipple. And the right one, fully bare and exposed. Those tits. . . so round, always the perfect size to hold in the palm of my hand . . . But, now, big enough that they spilled from my grip. . . Just enough to make my dick throb at the thought. God, I could feel those pretty tits against my fingertips. . . In my mouth. So fucking soft. I pumped my dick, taking careful consideration for how close I was as I took in the entire image.

What I loved about the photo just as much, if not more than her chest, was that I could see the lower half of her face. Her rosy lips, kissable as fuck, curved in the sexiest little half-smile. Her bottom lip tucked deliciously under perfect teeth. Jesus, fuck. I felt myself getting close, starting under my belly button, my balls tightening to the point of pain. But only the best kind of pain, of course. . . Just wished she was here to hold them in her hand. . . My dick felt hot, pulsing in my grip. . . I could feel it coming. 

Y/n, 11:15 p.m.: Well? I think I deserve to see what that ^^ did to you… ;)

Me, 11:15 p.m.: you sure as fuck do, baby

Just like before, I opened the camera in our text thread and positioned the phone just right. Not much different than before, only I made sure that this time, she’d be able to really see what the fuck she’d done to me. How it was even worse than before. How close I was. . . She’d been a good girl and she deserved to see just how good. 

I was twitching ridiculously from this little game we had started with each other. And if I were to be honest with myself, the pure fucking risk of it all only made it so much worse. My goddamned girlfriend only feet away from me. Nothing more than a few walls and a door to separate us. I knew it was wrong. And I knew I should've cared about that a lot more than I fucking did. But when it came to y/n, Maya became nothing more than the girl that was there to help me get over her. Clearly, that wasn’t working worth fucking shit. Y/n made that little dream fucking impossible. 

I pulled my briefs down just enough. Enough that I could free myself from the tight material. I snapped the photo the same as I had before, letting my sweater lift to give a clear view of my lower stomach on down. I gripped my cock with my hand once again, hissing through my teeth as I did so. One wrong touch, and I was done for. . . 

Y/n, 11:17 p.m.: Oh, fuck… you’re so close, aren’t you, baby? Poor thing… 🙁

Me, 11:17 p.m.: y/n… I’ve been close since you posted that picture lol

Y/n, 11:17 p.m.: Well, then… You ready to let go for me?

Me, 11:17 p.m.: never been more ready for any other fuckin thing in my life… 

Except, the next thing that showed up on my screen wasn’t a text. . . No, she was fucking calling me - what I’d been too much of a coward to do, she was doing it for me. Without even realizing how badly I'd wanted it - she just knew me. Wanted the same as me. Fuck. My heart started hammering in my fuckin’ chest the moment I saw that beautiful name show up, along with the photo of her from the summer, filling up the whole damn screen. . .Hearing her voice was bound to set me off. . . And I was damn ready for it, so I pressed that green button.

“Thought it might help to hear my voice,” she began, her tone bright, but more sultry than anything. It instantly captivated me — just like I knew it would. “Have you spit in your hand yet?”

Shit. No. I hadn’t. “Not yet,” I breathily laughed in response, before doing just that. When my hand was wet, I let it wrap around my dick once more. . . Felt much better. But, still. “Not as good as your pussy, though, baby.”

“Yeah,” she responded, her breath hitching on a bit of a whine. Fuck. Was she—? At the same time—? Oh, I fucking hoped to god she was. “Tell me about it. . .”

“Y/n,” I said, questioning and stern all at once. Wanted her to listen to me. Needed her to stop what she was doing so she could hear me. It was about damn time she did something I asked of her. 

“What, Jake?” She sighed, with a huff. Sounded irritated. Good. 

“Oh. . .,” I began, ready to correct her attitude. “You’re about to behave as if you’re the one who’s been jacking off to your picture for the past hour?” 

“Almost as long,” she snapped back. She was frustrated. . . Right where I wanted her.

Before I replied, I heard a noise in the background of her call. It sounded like a hand smacking against skin. What in the—? “What was that?”

“I was just making sure it was clear to you, Jacob, that I am not about to be bossed around by you,” she said, each word in its own breath. She was making a point, it seemed. “It was the hand that’s been shoved between my legs. Slapped my thigh with it because I’m impatient.”

“Well, me fuckin’ too. No need to act like such a damn brat,” I said with an intentional edge in my tone. “I was simply saying your name to ask if you were touching yourself already. Seems you were, hm?”

“I’m a horny woman with pregnancy hormones that escalate at lightning speed, Jacob,” she responded, not taking my shit for a second. (And, I had to say, I really liked it.) “My skin was all tingly at the table at the idea of what you were doing. . . It led to me to the damn restroom. Pulling my pants down as soon as I was in here.”

“Touché,” I agreed with a grin. “Except for the pregnancy hormones part. . . Don’t have those.”

Why was I stalling? My dick was hard in my stilled hand, pulsing in my fist. . . And I’d been ignoring it. It was also late and I needed to get to my girlfriend. Couldn’t help this, though. . . I just wanted to revel in the sound of her voice. Wanted to simply talk to her. No sex. Just us. 

But, my body wasn’t going to let me forget about the very present problem at my groin. So, as not to reject the need, I let my hand glide. My steady fist, readily pumping myself before I was addressing her again. “Go ahead and begin again. . . We’ll talk each other through it, baby,” I said with a heavy breath that turned to a grunt with one particular press of my fist to the tip. Now that I could hear her voice, I’d made up my mind that I needed her to get there before me.

“Thank you,” she breathed, relieved. Her breathing was picking up on the other end of the call. The sound made my dick feel as though it was getting impossibly harder. But that definitely wasn’t possible, so I knew it just meant that one tiny jerk meant I was going to crumble. “Miss you so much, Jake,” the words left her lips on a choked sob, my name nothing but a whimper.

So. . . She’d really been waiting for my permission? Damn. . . Just wanted her under me right fucking now. Life wasn’t fair. “Yeah? Why don’t you help me understand how much, sweetheart,” I urged her, knowing I was close to finishing and just wanted to hear her voice again. 

“Let’s just say, whether I finish or not tonight–.”

“You will,” I interrupted, with zero room for argument in my tone. “I will stay in this bathroom as long as I need to get you off, baby. Don’t you worry.”

And I meant every damn word. Her finishing came before everything else at the moment. Including myself. . . Which was a lot to say since, at the moment, I knew I’d explode if I were to be breathed on the wrong way. I let go of my cock to spit in my hand again, before bringing it back down to wrap around me. I gasped at the touch of it, but tried to keep a cool front for y/n.

“Jacob,” she said suddenly, insistent with the utterance of my name. “Let me fucking finish what I was going to say,” she paused, seemingly waiting for me to talk. But I was not going to. “I was saying. . . whether I finish tonight or not, it won’t matter. Because I know I can only do so much to myself. It will be nothing like what you’d do for me. . . I’m still going to be a mess. Makes me want to scream.”

My lips turned up in a sly, yet doleful close-lipped grin. “It’s okay, baby,” I began, attempting to reassure her when I felt the same exact way. “Because, either way, you’re gonna be soaking those fingers and that’s what matters to me. . . And my name is going to be the one falling off of your lips,” I took a second to let that sink in. I heard her push air through her lips, breathing heavily before a moan of acknowledgement. But it wasn't enough for me. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Jake. I promise I understand. I promise, baby,” she gasped. All I could hear were her sharp breaths as she repeated the promise. I imagined how frantically she was moving those fingers. I knew now how much honesty she spoke when she told me of how difficult those pregnancy hormones were. Knew just how high her libido was. . . . .

“How close are you, sweetheart?” I said, holding myself and only giving my dick attention if I felt it twitch. Needed her to get there. 

Before she even began to speak, she was huffing on the other end before she let out a little whimpering noise that had my balls tensing in a way that made me realize I had to let go of my dick for a moment before something else might occur. Not yet. 

“I am so close. Was close before I even got to the bathroom. The knowledge of you getting off to that picture alone had my panties wet,” she explained, making a groan release from deep in my chest. I encouraged her to continue, giving myself a swift pump before she began speaking again. “Wish I could explain – just want to crawl out of my skin with this need for you,” she said on a labored breath before she was whining again. Fuck. Hand off of the dick, Jake. “When I tell you I’m miserable for you, Jake. . . I have never experienced these feelings before now. There is nothing in the world that will be able to stop me from coming if we keep– fuck. Yes,” she whimpered, before practically growling. I knew that noise; she'd hit a spot. Fuck yes. “I’m just waiting for you to give me the word, to talk me to the edge. . . Want you to do it.”

“Fuck, y/n. . . That’s–.”

“Let’s just say - I learned something new about my body last night. . . my damn clit - you've made it pulsate in a way I didn’t know it could,” she gasped on a breath, her little noises coming through the line, and into my ear, beautifully. “I can’t touch it until you’re ready for me to finish because once I do, it’s over. So embarrassing. . . I can’t believe I’m this wound up.”

“It suits you, baby. . . Love when you’re so damn needy and desperate for me,” I said on a mewl that quickly translated to a growl. My hand was itching to touch my dick, and I couldn’t resist the single stroke I gave myself before continuing. I groaned when I let go of myself again. “You want me so damn bad, hm? Tell me how badly you want this, y/n. . .”

 “I just did, Jacob,” she replied, frustration clearly marking every single word. 

“Oh? You’re going to use that tone?” The voice in my head seemed to judge me, in agreement with my dick - and the time on the damn clock - that we were cutting it real damn short. Come on, Jake. . . We don’t have time for the games, dude. . . 

But – I couldn’t give it to her if she wasn’t going to be good. She knew better. 

“I’m s-sorry, babe. I just–I can’t–,” she purred, apparently hitting another sensitive spot. . . had me wishing I was the one hitting the inside of her like that. God knew I could go much deeper than those fingers. Stretch her wider. “I want you so badly that I would run on my own two feet all of the way to South Carolina right fucking now if I were a crazy person. There. I said it. And it’s the truth, Jake. Humiliating as fuck.”

“I’d do the same damn thing for you, sweet girl,” I replied, my heart lodged in my throat and dick at the thought. “Now. . . how wet are those fingers?”

“S-soaked,” she gasped back, my ear tingling at the tremor in the word. 

“How many do you have inside of you right now?” I asked, not able to help it when my head fell back against the wall. Couldn’t touch my dick yet – was punishing myself for the sake of her pleasure. But it was worth every second of denial. 

“Only one. ‘M s-so tight, Jake.”

Fuck. Me. I knew how goddamn tight she was. But. . . “I fuckin’ know you are, baby. . . Just like you should be. But, do you think you could fit one more finger in there for me?” 

“Don’t know, Jake,” she choked before releasing a trembling whimper. “But I’ll try. For you.”

“Good girl,” I encouraged her before eyeing my angry fuckin' dick. That motherfucker was hanging on for dear life. 

“I did it. Two,” she breathed before letting out a strangled groan. “F-feels so good. . .”

My cock was past the point of strain – in need of my grip. So, I went ahead and spit in my hand again before wrapping a hand at the base, moving at a torturously slow speed to the tip. 

“Oh, baby. . . I’m so damn proud of you,” I moaned, unable to reject the way ‘proud’ trickled pathetically from my lips. 

“‘M gonna cum like this, Jake,” she said with a trembling, needy whine. “I will. . . Promise.”

“Full of so many promises, aren’t you?” I pushed her, letting my hand continue its agonizing pace against myself. “Do you promise your tight pussy will still be ready for me when I get home? Gotta keep that shit ready for me. . .”

“Oh, yes, Jake. I will be because I know– shit. You’re s-so– so damn thick. I– Fuck!” She let out an intense cry that would’ve scared me if I didn’t know better. I knew exactly what it meant when she got this loud. . . Could only mean one thing. “Jake, baby– I’m g-gonna– but want you to– before–.”

“No fuckin’ way, sweetheart,” I interrupted her, sweat dripping down my forehead from the utter exertion required of me to wait. But I wouldn’t before her. “I’m not going to cum until I know your thighs are soaked with everything you have. . .”

“No, Jacob Thomas,” she argued back, voice suddenly sharper than it had been for the past several minutes. She’d found some sort of strength in her and I heard that damned slap against her thigh again, in the background of the call. Goddammit, y/n. “No fucking way am I going to not cum at the same time as you. I won’t finish this unless you finish with me.”

Okay, that option was starting to sound pretty appealing. . . My cock was a ticking time bomb in my hands, just waiting for the word to bust. . . “Jesus Christ, y/n,” I grunted, letting my hand tighten once more around my shaft. If we were going to do it like that. . . “Fine. Then you damn well better put those fingers back in that pretty pussy because I’m damn fuckin’ ready.”

“How’d you–?”

“Heard that goddamn slap against your thigh for a second time,” I bit back, patience gone. “Stopping while you know I’m about to–.”

“That’s why I stopped, asshole! Want you to cum all over your hand while you say my name,” she sighed. It was the same one she’d give when I’d sink into her. So, I knew those fingers were back where they belonged. “You just haven’t let me talk you to the edge like I wanted to and I’m mad about it–.”

“Y/n, fuck!” The heel of my palm nudged the underside of my tip in a way I thought would be my undoing. I couldn’t help how loud the curse word had drifted off my lips. . . dammit. And it’d been loud enough to very possibly gain the attention of anyone near these bathrooms. Quiet ass establishment. I brought my voice back to a hush for the next thing I said. “Your voice– and the filthy noises you’ve been making– shit. Trust me when I say you’ve done your part, sweetheart.”

“Really?” 

The way her voice had quieted just a bit; her question was completely genuine. That ‘really?’ was so incredibly her. . . She sounded hopeful that I was telling the truth. And I knew why she was asking. I knew her and I knew she’d seriously wanted to keep her word. She wanted to make damn sure I was being honest before she let this continue. 

The smirk that tugged at my lips was easy, turning into a full-blown smile when I reassured her as my hand stilled. My dick was crying out to me, but I had to reassure her first. “Yes, baby. You did your part with that post,” I chuckled under my breath at the culprit in all of this. “Anything you did was going to send me over the edge. . . . Especially after last night. But, I just wanted to talk to you so badly– just wanted an excuse to keep texting you until you were tired of my ass. Then you called and– it was over for me the moment I heard your voice.”

Every word I said was true as fuck. But, I shut my mouth and gave her a chance to speak. . . Needed it. “Shit, Jake. . . Over for you? Did you already–?” 

“No,” I insisted, letting my hand continue its ministrations on my dick. Nice and slow. . . “Trust me when I say, babydoll, you’re going to know when that happens.”

Babydoll. . . hadn’t used that one on her yet, but I liked it. . . It fit her.

“I fucking better,” she replied, her voice breaking up a bit as she began to breathe heavily. She was working herself up again and we were not stopping this time. 

Spitting in my hand once more, a sense of finality laced all throughout me, I let my palm go to very delicately grasp my dick. And then, as I felt necessary, I applied pressure, my head falling against the wall for the umpteenth time. I was hot, all over, my cock like fire in my hand. . . It throbbed in the most fulfilling way as I let my hand do what it’d wanted to all night.

“Jake?” She tried from the other side of the call, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts for the time being. 

“Yes, baby?” I replied, not able to stop my hand from moving, but tried my damn best to let her voice control me. But that shit was damn near impossible at this point in the night. 

“I really do miss you,” she said. I heard her sweet voice choke up a bit – for more than sexual reasons. 

Again, I knew this because I felt it, too. “I miss you, sweetheart. So fucking much. I can promise you that,” I insisted, the rumble in my chest, coming to life in the tone of my voice when I spoke next. “But just think about how ready you’re going to be for me. . . When I finally see you again. . . When I finally get to fuck you like we both want. . .”

“Gonna feel so good,” she said with a hiccup and a quiet, shaky sigh. “Can’t wait to feel you fill me up again, baby. . .”

I was going to burn this place down. “Tell me just how hard you want me to fuck you, y/n. . .,” I began, feeling those words leave my lips was like seeing the light at the end of a tunnel I’d been trying to reach for years. 

“Shit, Jake. . . I’m just ready to see you finish again. Been so long. . . Haven’t gotten to taste you on my tongue–.”

“The night in the Jee–?”

“But you never came for me that night. . . Remember? I haven’t gotten to taste you for so long and fuck– I miss the way it feels when I swallow you down—I need it,” she beautifully sighed, then moaned on the cutest little lilt of a laugh. 

I couldn’t emit a proper response. What in the fuck did I even say to that? A pornographic harmony, spoken to leave no fucking man alive. . . Said just for me. . .Fuck, I was so ready to come for her again. My dick was swelling with this urgency for her. . . So damn close.

She wasn’t finished, though, so I didn’t have to form a coherent thought as my eyes began to roll back in my head. Her smooth voice, like damn silk flooding my ears, “. . .or feel you spill out of me since the night we. . . you know. . .”

Even in the heat of this moment, I couldn’t stop myself from asking. . . My heart, being fucking stupid, begging for answers. “Do you remember much from that night?” I asked, my voice faltering. 

I knew most of the tremor in my tone came from the feelings flowing through me from my current desire to let the agony from tonight end in triumph. But. . . I wasn’t a fool. I knew it was also faltering because I wondered this shit every day. Ridiculously, that night was a sensitive topic for me. . . for reasons not concerning our daughter. 

“Oh, Jake. . . I remember it so well. Every single day, I remember just a little more. . . My brain–no, my heart won’t let me forget, baby,” she said, voice cracking on the last few words. 

There was a little sniffle behind her words. . . By the way she’d sniffed, I knew she was trying to hide it. And, ironically, at the same damn time, I felt that familiar, tight sensation – constricting my throat – daring me to cry. But now was not the time. We’d discuss this later. Now that I knew she hadn’t forgotten as much of it as I’d previously thought, we damn well were going to finish this conversation. 

“It’s because that shit isn’t meant to be forgotten, babydoll,” I rushed out as I clung on for dear life. My cock seemed to hum with pleasure under my palm, a sort of feeling of appreciation from my body for what was on the precipice of occurring. 

On top of her words, my mind went crazy thinking of how she’d fall apart. . . When I'd fuck her, watching her finish was always my final undoing. . . Every time, I was left a man spent with nothing left to give. . . A man who only knew her name. . .

Last night, I’d been so enraptured at the prospect of sinking inside of her again. . . I couldn’t help but remember – how her thighs had trembled above me last night. Every angle had been glorious, but being underneath her, eating her pussy while I watched her full body take everything it was given. Watched her heavenly tits bounce while her thighs tempted to squeeze my head, over and over – shit. How well she’d fallen apart. She’d opened up for me – completely – soaking me when I’d made her release fully. . . It had been exquisite – all of her, covering my face and chest in the most mouth watering arousal. 

And, after making her finish multiple times (just like I’d wanted), I'd been so close to finally giving her what she’d wanted. But I hadn’t gotten to give it to her. Hadn’t had the chance to enjoy the feeling of her swollen, soaking wet pussy, sheathing my dick. I’d felt the thrumming, pounding beating of my pulse, all the way from my balls, to my heavy ass dick, to my dizzy mind. . . And then. . . Maya had fucking knocked. Mine and y/n’s luck was shit. 

Josh and Elsie had been a non-issue. I knew them well enough to know that if y/n were to have put them off for what we’d been doing, they’d have let us at it. Hell, they probably would have celebrated (fucking weirdos). And she’d just about let them off easily when Maya had made her presence known. 

I’d been so fucking angry over it. The sinking feeling that had happened in my gut at that moment had made me shut down. . . And like the fuckin’ dick of a boyfriend I was, it hadn’t had shit to do with feeling bad for doing anything to (possibly) ruin things with Maya. No, all my brain could spit at me was how close I’d been to finally being buried in y/n again. And how viciously it’d been yanked from me. By a single knock. Not tonight. No, I was going to see this shit through. 

“Keep going, baby,” I told her. I was not letting that shit happen again. No interruptions. We would get our beautiful ending. Together. I wasn’t stepping foot out of this goddamn bathroom until then. “Keep fucking yourself for me, honey. Don’t stop.”

“Jake. . .,” she cooed in response, not much more than a whisper that had fallen off her tongue. “S-say my name, Jake. . .Please, baby.” Fuck. The prettiest goddamn voice to ever grace my ears. Melodic. Tantalizing. And her breathing, still labored, coming out in tiny huffs. High in pitch — they had become quicker. The sweetest staggered huffs, tiny gasps.  She was close. I could hear it. In her voice, her breathing. Imagined her nimble fingers - thrusting in and out of her soaked pussy. 

I was fucking done for. Those little noises alone, setting my body alight. My dick threatened to spill with the gentlest touch of my hand. So fucking careful. “I hear you, y/n,” I sighed, barely finding the air in my own lungs. I closed my eyes, picturing her in the very spot she was in. Getting herself off, all by herself. “G-give it to me, babydoll. Please. Let me hear you finish for me.”

Desperation had completely taken over, with a strength unfathomable. My dick was throbbing under my palm. My head became light and fuzzy, lacking all the blood I needed to keep myself upright for much longer. And then, I swore I heard it. The technology behind these damn iPhones could be so sweet. Because, after really concentrating on the faint sound, I knew I heard it. Those slick sounds, from her pretty little fingers working her oversensitive pussy, so well. . . Fuck yes. She breathed the most ethereal sound. The sound. The one right before she'd. . .God, fuck. I bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood. I tasted it on my tongue, focused on it instead of the urge to pump myself one last fucking time. 

“T-talk to me, babydoll. Need to hear, — Jesus!. . .,” My dick twitched against my palm, creating almost enough friction to force my end. No. Not fucking yet. We had to do it together. I would settle for no fucking less. “Let me hear you, y/n. Don’t fucking hold back for me.”

“J-Jake! I’m cumm — fuck!” 

She was there. She was fucking there, making all the same pretty noises she had made last night when my tongue was in the same place her fingers were now. Tasting her when she. . . god, fuck! A string of spit left my lips, my mouth hanging open with the gasped breaths. And, as if on purpose, past my sweater, it met my lower abdomen. I shivered as it slid down to the base of my dick. I reached for it, coated my hand and gripped my dick - squeezed it real fucking hard. It felt so exhilaratingly good that it hurt.

“Cum with me, Jake. . . P-lease,” she pleaded, and that was all it fucking took. 

With the iron grip of my hand, I pumped myself with haste — Once, twice. . . I hissed through my goddamn teeth, bit the fuck out of my tongue to keep my volume to a low rumble. I squeezed my eyes shut, so hard it nearly hurt. My head had fallen back against the wall, my balls and stomach tightened painfully with the movement of my hand. She was still moaning in my ear, still working that gorgeous fucking pussy with her fingers when I felt the closest I had all fucking night. 

I pumped my dick again, and again. And with one more thrust of my fist, I coated my fucking hand. God —it hit me so fucking hard. The building up from the entire night— The moment I saw that blessed Instagram story, the texts, her tits, and then her fucking voice. . . Just her. Everything that was her. My every thought of her left my body numb and trembling with pure goddamn pleasure. Tear inducing. 

I felt so close to her, and she wasn’t even here with me. Not physically. Not the way I wanted. But the fact that I did feel that way was a testament to the undeniable effect she had on me.  Not even fucking here, and she still had me worked up as though she were. Still had this claim over my body - like it belonged only to her. 

And apparently, I had the same effect on her. 

My jaw had gone slack, and the only thing my lips could muster was her name. “Y/n, y/n, y/n. . .”

“There you go, baby. Fuck — listen to you. . .”

I kept stroking myself, slowly and fucking carefully as the blood had started returning to my head. My body was vibrating. My dick was tender as fuck. Sensitive to the goddamn touch. But I couldn’t let go of myself. Not yet. Not when she was on the other end of the line. Waiting for me. “How are those fingers? Are they fuckin' soaked like I wanted?”

“So-s very soaked, baby,” she sighed between heaving breaths. “I think I. . . I'm actually - my thighs. They're drenched. It’s just like last night. . . when it'd covered your chest and face. . . Did I just. . . ? Fuck.”

Fucking Christ. “Did you squirt for me, baby?”

“I’m pretty damn sure I did,” she breathily giggled, my heart picking up speed at the sound. “Th-the insides of my thighs are seriously drenched to fuck.”

I chuckled along with her, under my breath as I tried damn hard to not book a stupidly impulsive flight to New York. Even though we were done, I still wasn’t finished speaking to her. I knew it was late, but I needed to hold onto this moment with her. It was all I had at the moment. “How are Josh and Elsie tonight? Disturbingly flirty and shit?”

She began laughing outright at that, though her voice still cracked a bit from the rasp in her throat. She was exhausted. . .Could only imagine. . . And I was all the way in South Caro-fucking-lina. But, she succeeded in snapping me from my irritation, with a sigh, so beautiful, into my ear as she agreed. “Oh, you already know. . . And talking about the most absurd shit they find on Urban fucking Dictionary of all places. . .,” she laughed again, taking a deep breath before she told me about the place she was at tonight. The food sounded much better than the wallet-breaking, tiny-ass portions I’d had earlier in the evening. . . But it had been Maya’s favorite, so we’d had to go. Just like the dessert establishment we were at now.

I was about to respond to another remark she’d made about Elsie and Josh’s escapades – still on my blissful high. . . . When we were interrupted. By a goddamn fucking knock. The sound of a knock on the door was truly becoming one I hated at this point. 

And when I heard the voice on the other side of the door. . . . My blood ran cold.

“Jakey? You almost done talking to Josh?” Maya. Voice calm and kind – completely unassuming. 

I loved my girlfriend, but dammit if hearing her knock made me want to punch the nearest wall with all of the strength I could’ve possibly mustered. . . However, I stood in the same place I’d been for the last almost two hours. My hand, still comfortably around my dick. And the result of the phone fucking I’d just partaken in, all over my hand. . . Shit.

Though, unlike last night, bit by bit – second by second –I began to feel guilty. Because, now, my girlfriend had been left at the table – abandoned by me – for the better part of almost two hours while I did this shit. I checked the lock on the door with a careful eye, terrified that I’d somehow forgotten to lock it. The thought of what might occur if she were to open the door had me wanting to throw up. I felt so goddamn terrible. What the fuck was I doing?

I had these two beautiful women – who I cared for so deeply – hanging on by a thread. Granted, how I felt for y/n was worlds different than I felt for Maya. . . In that way, I meant that my love for Maya was the type of love I could explain. . . It was a deep love. But. . . the way I felt for y/n? I didn’t even know where to begin. . . It was beyond words. And where I felt deeply for Maya, it didn’t stop at ‘deep’ for y/n. 

No, with y/n, I felt like I was constantly drowning in the most beloved waters. . . Desperate for air while also enjoying the feeling of being utterly encompassed by these stunning, yet treacherous waves. . .

But. . . in the end, they were both special to me and I was fucking with both of them. I didn’t know what to do. 

“Jake?!” Maya’s knuckles hit the door once more, her voice level raising in a way that made me want to tell her to quiet down. This was her quiet restaurant that she knew so well. . . She’d already given me the talk about not speaking loudly in the place. So, apparently she was irritated enough that she–. “Jake!”

Okay, not quite as loud, but definitely obvious that she was fed up with waiting on me. I couldn’t blame her. . . I’d just give her some excuse about how Josh was really going through it or some shit. She’d have to understand that.

And, just as she was tapping against the door once again, y/n was in my ear. . . Her soft voice, making me feel lighter – better. “Hey. . . what’s wrong, baby?” She questioned, real concern guiding her tone. I knew that she’d noticed that something was off by the way I’d just stopped interacting. “Was it something I sai–?”

“Jakey, please, I’m really worried about you, baby!” Maya squeaked from the other side of the door. 

“I have to go,” I hurriedly hushed into the phone, hoping y/n would be the easier one to put off this time. She’d understand. Right? “I’m sorry,” rushed through my lips as I pressed the red end button for the call. 

I hated doing it to her, but she’d be easier to explain this all to. . . She’d been very understanding about me needing to dedicate time to Maya in the past. . . And she’d already told me to get off the phone and go back to her earlier in the conversation. . .

In complete shame, I looked down at my hand that held the phone. Our texts, staring back at me and making me immediately miss her. Fuck. It was like I’d escaped to this other world with her for such a short time. . . Only to be yanked back to earth. Was she going to be mad at me now? Then, there was the evidence on my other hand. My release, covering the hand that was holding my dick (that was still too hard to leave the bathroom). . . It was drying real quick, making a sticky mess over my skin.

 I felt like shit. This wasn’t supposed to be so damn difficult. . . I just wished we still had the easiness of a few months ago. . . Very little interruptions, so much time for only each other. No one in the way. . . I felt like I could’ve cried in that fuckin’ Carmella’s single stall bathroom. Stupid as it was. . . But I’d been waiting for this and hadn’t even been able to begin to enjoy the post-coital bliss. 

Was y/n okay? She was also covered in herself. Completely alone in the bathroom of whatever restaurant she was at. With Josh and Elsie. I really would have left South Carolina right that instant if I could’ve. Flown back on the next flight to be with them. But I couldn’t. I had made this commitment to Maya and I had to see it through. 

But. . . My heart hurt for the woman in New York, so fucking precious to me, who I’d effectively worked up and thoroughly drained. Only for me to leave her immediately upon finishing. And her gentle voice in my ear. . . It’d been so nice — creating that familiar swirly feeling in my chest. Yet, no matter how she’d made me feel, I’d just left her. 

Fuck—I couldn’t even worry about that. Not when my girlfriend was still outside the bathroom, making her presence known with little intermittent spurts of knocking. Damn. . . the woman really liked to knock until there was zero doubt of her presence. My teeth had ground together every time I heard her after the first knock. It was a lot — considering it had happened at least ten times in the span of a couple of minutes. 

My attention was drawn back to my hands. . . To the phone in my grasp that was awfully silent. Why was I expecting anything from her? Why would she want to text me? With how I’d left things just now, my heart would be broken if roles were reversed. 

Dick move, Jake, my thoughts called out, judging me. Way to use her and then hang up, asshole.

I shook my head of the thought, knowing it to be true, but not having the energy nor the time to deal with it. Not when Maya was still doing her best to make sure I knew she was still out there. My phone got clicked to lock and slipped into my back pocket. Then, I was trying to silently pull up my briefs and pants, zip my jeans, and maneuver very quietly around the bathroom, so as not to make Maya question anything else. 

Just needed to wash my hands. . . Get my fucking semen off of my hands before she saw that shit. I triple checked the bathroom door to make sure I’d locked it. And when I’d reassured myself again, I turned the faucet on. 

Talk, Jacob. “Yeah, My, I’m okay—sorry,” I finally called out, panicking to get myself cleaned up and get this night over with. When I said I felt like shit, I meant it. Pure, utter shit for hanging up on y/n, with no explanation and no warning, but I had no other choice. “Josh was just really going through it. . . Needed me to talk him down.”

“Oh. . .,” she began from the other side, her voice breaking just a little. But what caught me was the way the word was spoken – as if to question what I was saying. She had no reason to question it. “Saw he posted on his story like right before you came to the bathroom to talk to him. . . He’s with y/n and Elsie. They looked pretty happy in his story.”

Mother of fuck. Of all times, Josh. Thank you, brother. 

Improvise, Jake. Improvise. . . “Yeah. . . They were really awesome at being there for him tonight when I couldn’t be,” I said on a whim, soaping and washing my hands for a second time under the water as it heated to scalding. Was helping to snap me back to reality. “He’s just having a hard time. I didn’t know how else to help him from here other than staying on the phone with him.”

“Is he better now?” She asked, seeming legitimately curious over the illegitimate situation. The lie.

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, drying my hands against my pants, not wanting to hear the harsh noise of the hand dryer. I wasn’t sure I could handle that at the time being. . . “He’s fine. Feeling much more like himself.”

“I’d hope so,” Maya laughed, the sound seeming more mocking than anything. She was over the bullshit of me being in the bathroom. I understood that for sure. “You’ve been in there long enough. . . The dessert tray is at the table. And lucky for you, there’s no ice cream.”

She seemed like she was joking, but I could hear a slight edge in her tone that wasn’t usually there. So, I busted ass. Made sure my face was wiped of any residual sweat and that it wasn’t flushed to fuck. Thankfully, I seemed to look relatively put together. . . And I believed (really hoped) to have washed all of the leftover smell off of me that could indicate I’d been doing what I’d been doing. 

After a deep breath in and out, I slapped a smile on my face and left the nerves in the bathroom. . . . And when I saw her beautiful face, completely aloof as to what had just happened, I felt a punch in the gut. The same punch I felt when I instantly thought of how y/n was going, five states away from me. . . Was she crying? Was she going to be able to clean up okay? She’d had her entire body out for me tonight, only for me to leave her. Fuck. It was all on a loop in my damned head. 

As Maya talked to me about the fucking dessert tray, I contemplated my next steps with y/n. And once we were seated back at the table, I immediately noticed her father was glaring at me. And while I was never one to disrespect a partner’s parent, he didn’t fucking know me. It didn’t help that, at the present moment in time, I was not in the mood to deal with any shit. After giving him a forced smile, I decided to ignore him and continue to ponder my mess of thoughts concerning y/n.

I decided the best (and only) option was to text her. So, I took a few moments while Maya and her dad started in on a conversation. And from the sound of it, she’d apparently stopped in the middle of to come get me from the bathroom. God. Could she not have just waited to finish her damn conversation before coming to me? It would’ve been better for all parties involved. God. Whatever. All it meant was I had an ample opportunity to send this text. 

Me, 11:35 p.m.: I’m so sorry, baby… I promise you I didn’t want to leave. Maya came to the door and needed me. I promise it had absolutely nothing to do with you, y/n

When I sent it, I decided the least I could do was look at Maya to pretend as though I was listening. The conversation happening between them wasn’t one I could participate in – they were talking strictly about work. I wasn’t needed here. But, as the minutes ticked by, I realized. . . y/n was fed up with me. She’d read my message at the time I’d sent, and still, five minutes later, there was zero response from her. I hadn’t even witnessed the little ellipses bubble when I occasionally opened my phone to check on a response. 

I could admit. Shitty as it was, the woman beside me had barely been a thought to me all night. Even still, as I sat there, with a forced smile and a dick I was begging to soften all of the way, she wasn’t who I was thinking about. I decided to go to Instagram. Curiosity had me wanting to check Josh’s story to see what Maya had been referring to. 

And, the picture on his story was enough to make my breath catch in my throat. The bright smile on y/n’s face and her hair, falling so prettily over her shoulder. In this picture that had apparently been taken before the texting and the phone call. . . She’d been so full of joy. Goddammit. Then, there was the song he’d used – I knew it very well. "Merry Christmas Baby" by Booker T & the M.G.’s. And I knew exactly why he’d used it. He’d used it to get my attention. This was one we’d regularly listened to at Christmastime as a family, growing up. I could remember the day I’d learned the guitar part and everything – a snow day during our freshman year of high school.

Weird that I remembered that. But, he’d known it was special. He'd known that it would trigger some sort of memory for me. Make me feel something. What was he trying to say? Was he just mocking me by putting a sentimental song on his story to accompany a picture of her? Was he trying to make me jealous? Knowing my brother, I was sure to fuck that he was doing all of the above.

Fuck you, Josh. Seriously. 

After eyeing her for just a moment longer in Josh’s photo, I decided that while Maya was engaged in such an intense conversation with her father, I could go look at y/n’s story again. With a clear head. Really appreciate the picture this time. So, with a quick message to Josh telling him to ‘go fuck himself’, and a glance in Maya’s direction to make sure she wasn’t looking, I speedily tapped y/n’s name in Josh’s story. And once I was on her profile, I made hasty work of my mission by clicking on her cute little icon photo. 

And there she was. I was quickly realizing, though, that maybe it was a mistake to look at it because it was only making me angrier that we’d essentially been cut off in the bathroom. I had needed her – before, during, and after. I’d taken the fucking L last night in her bed by not getting to fuck her and done so again tonight by sacrificing talking to her after getting her off. 

The lace on her skin – it was just so fucking gorgeous. I wanted nothing more than to pull it over her tits myself and pay those pretty nipples some real attention. . . God, her tits. Then there was the underwear, nearly see through. . . How I’d pull those to the side and fuck her sensitive pussy until her perfect legs trembled, yet again, with my name on her lips. Her pretty release, seeping out of her, right before I’d let loose inside of her. . . And when my spend would trickle from her tight, pulsing cunt, I’d pull those sexy little panties back over her. Cover her up and let her feel me against her until she understood to not post shit like this without me near. 

My dreams were stalled when her name flashed across my screen, though. I didn’t even wait to read it. Had to talk to her. 

Y/n, 11:41 p.m.: I’m not talking about promises anymore tonight, Jake. 

Goddammit, Jake. What the fuck had you done, man?

Me, 11:41 p.m.: you know that I wanted to talk you down from that, baby… you know me. You know me better than that

Thankfully, she immediately read that one and responded. Fucking win.

Y/n, 11:41 p.m.: Just hate that you’re gone and it was just a vicious reminder of why you’re gone… I’m just being selfish. Ignore me.

She was being selfish? Fuck no she wasn’t. 

Me, 11:42 p.m.: you are NOT selfish, y/n. Please don’t say that about yourself. Wish you wouldn’t say shit like that 

Y/n, 11:42 p.m.: I jacked off with you while you were with your g i r l f r i e n d tonight, Jake. No, actually… while you made HER wait for ME. It was all my fault and I am so sorry.

Oh, fuck no she was not going to apologize. 

Me, 11:42 p.m.: sweet girl… don’t you dare say sorry for anything. That was the peak moment of my entire day :)

Me, 11:42 p.m.: don’t overthink any of this. Please. The situation is what’s shitty… not you. The situation could be MUCH fucking better

What was I implying? Surely I wasn’t considering what it would be like to not be dating Maya. . . That would be fucked up. But– dammit. I couldn’t help how drawn I was to this girl on the other side of my phone. As I waited for her to respond, I went to her photo again. Sound turned down, of course. . . Maya was still busy conversing. I was fine.

There was a solid minute to appreciate the way y/n’s breasts were swelling – how gorgeously marked by veins. . .– fuck. All for my baby– shit fuck. I was truly realizing, as my stomach turned in arousal at her body – looking at this again had not been a good idea. And, as if a saving grace, her name was at the top of my screen again. 

Y/n, 11:44 p.m.: You deserve to be happy, Jake. That is the best “situation” for me. 

God. What was she implying, now? 

I didn’t know what to say in response to that, so instead, I decided to switch back to her Instagram story and tell her exactly what I thought of it. Perfect. That’s what it – she – was. Y/n. . . Her heart, her face, her body. . . she was perfect. Maybe not for me, due to everything that had transpired between us. So much history in a shorter amount of time. . . . but she was the most perfect specimen that graced this Earth.

Before her, I hadn’t been sure about having kids. But with this woman? My uncertainty about having kids was out the window. When she was the mother of my children, I didn’t care how many there were. Anything that came from her would surely be flawless and so easily lovable. God, the singular thought that there would be a tiny her also gracing the planet in a few months?. . . 

I’d never felt the amorous flame – this pure, overwhelming light inside of my chest. . . . All because of y/n. The chance we’d taken over the summer. . . The chance of a lifetime. 

Y/n. . .she was worth all of it and more.

End of Jake’s POV

Maya’s POV

When Jake got back from the bathroom, I assumed the night would continue as it had started. Jake’s attention being on me. All on me. 

A whole twelve hours away from Brooklyn, New-fucking-York — where there were possible distractions galore. But here, there truly were none. A glorious victory for me. The one complaint I’d had before now had been earlier in the day. He’d been immersed in his phone this morning as we’d walked around my favorite Charleston shopping centers. Though, even if it had annoyed me at first, I hadn’t complained. Because, he’d bought me any and everything I’d wanted. Merry Christmas to me!

And, as he’d told me, he’d been texting with his brothers. Which, I could only get so annoyed by. They were fun enough and seemed to like me a lot. So, they passed in my book. Really, more than ‘like me’, I knew his brothers loved me. And obviously, I appreciated this. They saw me for me. 

Occasionally, I still stopped to silently appreciate Josh. His noble act of stopping the display in the living room on that horrid game night. And then, going the extra mile and stepping in to talk to Jake the morning after. . .? God. A keeper for sure. At this point, I didn’t think I’d ever make Jake cut off communication with his family. . . And that was saying something. I’d definitely done it with boyfriends in the past when their family members rubbed me the wrong way, so. . . He was lucky he had a decent family.

Even if I did like his brothers, though, it had gotten annoying after about an hour and a half. Every time I’d wanted his attention, he’d tell me to ‘wait a second.’ But, thankfully, once he’d put the phone away finally, his focus had all been on me. He’d looked frustrated (which had annoyed me), but when I’d asked him what had been wrong, he just shook his head. It was obvious after one try that he hadn’t really wanted to talk about it. So, I’d dropped it. He’d talk to me if he needed to. No use poking him. All day long, I’d told him memories of my childhood. Little things from when I’d come to stay with my dad. Everywhere I looked, there was something to tell him about that had to do with me. It was heaven. Had been. Not any-fucking-more.

Because, when he’d gotten back from the hour and a half long conversation with Josh in the bathroom, I’d borne witness to his fucking screen. And the sight had not made me very happy.  I’d had every reason to lose it when I initially saw that green circle around her picture. That classic pick-me bitch icon she used for Instagram. Trying to stay all natural with her lightly edited photo. Her, in a (surely cheap) white sweater, and a New York Yankee baseball cap on. A little cutesy grin on her features. Trying to look all adorable and shit. And failing. Puh-lease. Stupid fucking bitch. Y/n. The baby momma whore. 

And, unfortunately, even if she was a giant slut, I had to admit, she was very pretty. . . Well, had been very pretty. . . She was subpar now with the baby bump constantly expanding at her abdomen. More and more by the day. Gross. 

Even more disgusting and sneaky, after a hasty glance at my own Instagram, I’d soon noticed she hadn’t included me in that little green bubble of Close Friends. But. . . To be fair, of course she wouldn’t – I had the thing she wanted. Her envy of me drew the line at us being ‘close friends.’ Women were naturally envious of me, intimidated by me. Had been my entire life. It was why I still had zero female friends. Bitches were haters.

I really, sincerely knew it was simply because she was jealous of me — as she should’ve been. . . But, she’d succeeded in getting under my skin. No one ever did that shit anymore — except for y/n. I was a very pleasant person, but y/n. . .Oh, that bitch brought out the worst in me. Close Friends. I could’ve strangled someone. 

Seriously. Whore. A whore who was posting shit like this to lure my boyfriend in. And, no. She couldn’t have him. She got to have his baby. That was plenty for her. It was too much, if I were to be honest. But no one was asking me.

I had to put up with a lot from her. Most women would have dragged her away from him by her hair. Told her to get the fuck out of his life. And then told her to fuck off and give another woman (me) the chance to treat him better than she had. Like trapping him, right before he started his career, by getting pregnant in a primarily fuck buddy circumstance. 

Crazy to think Jake had lied to me about that, by the way. . . When we first really got together in September, I’d questioned him about living with another woman. And, he’d fed me a bullshit line about being ‘just roommates’ with her. “Just roommates,” he’d told me. “It’s just the most convenient living situation.” And, I’d believed him. Like a fool. 

That was before I’d had to spend my Thanksgiving focusing on the new knowledge that his roommate was pregnant with his kid. He’d so carefully told me the morning of the blessed holiday. And seriously, I’d been a stunning girlfriend to him when he’d told me. I’d had and still did have every right to be pissed. But I’d reacted as calmly as possible. . . Even if I’d been exploding on the inside. No woman would put up with that besides me. ‘Just roommates’ my incredible, fat ass. ‘Just roommates’ with a damned history of fucking each other enough to make a kid from it. She was lucky I hadn’t screamed in her pretty little face by now. Couldn’t upset the pregnant lady. God forbid. Lest I be a terrible person to all of society. 

And she had that heart thing Jake had told me about. Pits? The Pits? Stupid name for a disorder. Something made-up about her heart beating too damn fast. So, on top of being pregnant, she was also at risk with whatever the fuck that illness was that she had. Sounded like a y/n problem, not mine. She was a true ‘pick-me’ girl. To her core, always begging for attention. 

God. . . I had such a good heart. Loads of tolerance for the never ending bullshit. I had been the bigger person through all of this. The biggest person, actually. Well. . . not physically. I could’ve laughed at that. No, no. That spot belonged to Jake’s fuck buddy roommate. Past fuck buddy, of course. I knew I gave it to him so fucking good now; he didn’t need her or her tired ass, fat ass pregnant body. That show, The Biggest Loser — right in front of me. 

She’d had her chance. When her body was tight and her face wasn’t at risk of fattening like a pregnant bitch. And now she seemed to think she could offer him anything worthy in this body? Her new (not improved) one, which only got progressively fatter every time I saw her? Though, no matter how fat she was, she still never managed to shoot her shot. Reference: game night. Her, being a disgusting whore in front of us all. And Jake, still sleeping next to me that night. . . as she’d slept with that moron from her school. Comedy. Peak comedy.

I looked over briefly at his screen again. It had been a couple of minutes since I’d last checked on him. And he was still on that damned story of hers. Why?! What did she have to offer that I didn’t? Nothing. Seriously. If all she had to offer him was that kid, that was still nothing compared to me. 

A baby was all she had to offer him. A tiny little thing that took up hardly any space. So, I knew I made her insecure. How could I not? 

And my body wasn’t bloated and expanding with an unexpected kid like hers was. My body was the same as it had been when Jake and I’d first gotten together. The day of the guitar lesson, at the beginning of summer. The guitar lesson that had led to me being bent over my kitchen counter, where he’d fucked me until my eyes had watered. So fucking good. Best sex of my life — and that was saying something, too. That ‘situationship’ of ours had only lasted for a few (too-short) weeks. . . And, towards the end of it, I’d been able to tell she was pissing him off. The sex had gotten rougher and he’d been harsher when he’d spoken to me. But I was there for him. Talked through life with him. His breakup, those stupid rules that y/n had put in place at one point (control freak). . .

I’d even gone to a few of those shows of his — which I’d never seen her at. Only that festival when she wore that white outfit that had done very little to cover her up. Just like this story he was still looking at. Barely anything to cover her fat ass body. Slut. She constantly gave me every reason to believe I made her insecure. . . This story, for one. Couldn’t handle her precious roommate being with his fucking girlfriend. Had to post this shit to try and get his attention. 

But. . . he was still looking. . . Seriously. What gives? Did he just feel bad for her or what? Was he gawking, repulsed by her ugly body like I was? In shock that she’d post such a horrendous thing? 

I thought back to last night, her hiding herself under that hoodie when she’d left Jake’s apartment. I knew why she’d done that shit. She probably couldn’t stand the sight of herself anymore, especially when she knew I was around. Couldn’t let Jake make the unfair comparisons when I was so near, so she chose to hide. Good. Best option for her. Hide, bitch. She was insane if she thought he found her attractive right now. Sure, maybe he did before she got knocked up. But not now. Again, comedic to think he could find her anywhere near pretty. 

Besides, she had no hope for post-pregnancy either. Everyone knew women were at risk of losing their entire figure when they had kids. And I had no doubt she would. But that wouldn’t happen to me. Not ever. I would stay looking just like this, just how Jake liked. My tight, not pregnant body. God, just – it was Jake. I couldn’t let her have him. 

There was not a chance in fucking hell that I’d let her have him. I knew she still wanted him. I knew she did. Any girl would want to be with Jake. I knew for a damned fact that every woman who saw him wanted to be with him. I’d seen the bitches staring at him. Everywhere we went. What woman wouldn’t want him? He had everything anyone could ever want in a man — anything I could ever want. He was a long-haired fucking rockstar on his way to a huge fucking career with a killer body. He was the definition of perfect. And I was the one who had him. 

Besides, it was kind of fun to be around her knowing that he’d chosen me. At this point, I’d only tolerated her because I liked being the winner. Watching her be pregnant, fat, and sad while I got to suck face with her baby daddy right in front of her pathetic ass. . . Like a blue fucking ribbon.

Even after a couple of minutes more of conversation with my dad, I noticed with a sideways glance that Jake was switching hastily between apps. What the fuck was he—? But before I could see a glimpse of his texts, once again, he was back on Instagram. And looking at her hideous post. I was shocked to find it was the other one. The one I could see, on her page. Ugly, cheap ass, deplorable maternity bra for her engorged tits. And equally cheap American Eagle jeans. However, that post did stop me in my tracks the slightest bit. . . Before she was pregnant, she really had been very easy on the eyes. Nice, tight body. Decent ass. Perky tits. Good skin.

But man, compared to the picture of her now. . . It was sad how she’d let herself go. Disheartening, really. The woman was just so fucking fat right now. And the unfortunate thing was, she’d probably only allowed herself to get pregnant in the first place, to keep him. It was just hilarious that she believed getting fat would make him want to stick around and be with her. Carrying his kid or not, she was fat. 

Truth hurts, you fucking delusional and selfish cunt, I thought as I did the ‘right’ thing and liked her stupid post.

It didn’t matter in the long run. A nice little gesture. Sure. I could do that – because I knew I was the one he wanted. All along. He knew that he’d hit the fucking jackpot with me. I knew, from his mouth, that he’d regretted letting me go. On a couple of occasions, after a few shows where drinks had run aplenty, he’d told me as much. 

But. . . I knew that if she could dig her claws into him, she’d somehow be able to figure out a way to manipulate him into going back to her. Even if it were just for sex. If she was given the chance, of course. . .Except, as long as I was around, he wouldn’t be able to even think about going back to her. As long as he had me, he wouldn’t want her. Wouldn’t need anything from her. All she was good for was making the kid. Her body was a waste, her manipulation tactics were tried and true. . . She was only surface level pretty. . .but everything else about her was shit. 

Too bad he didn’t care about her. This pregnancy wasn’t about her for Jake. Because, while she may have thought that Jake was helping her, he obviously was not. I could read him like a book. I knew him so well. And I knew everything he did was only for his kid. That kid was the only reason he had jack fuck to do with her. He only felt like he had that obligation to her. And, like the kind, understanding, Christian woman that I was, I’d let it slide this long. . . Too damn long. 

She’d already tried to pull one over on me. On that stupid game night, she’d tried. With her tiny ass shorts and tight shirt to show off her bulging, overweight tits. And then, right there, in front of all of us, she’d spread her legs for him. In front of me, the love of Jake’s life. I was still shocked that, for some reason, he’d fallen for that shit. Even with me sitting right there. I’d watched her pick at him and be a little bitch about getting comfortable. I could only imagine it was hard to get situated and comfortable with that fat, disgusting body. 

I’d wanted so badly to make a comment about her being so gross, but I’d known then, just as I did now. . . I had to keep face — especially in front of Jake. I was just grateful Josh saw that it was wrong, too. When he’d come in, telling me to nicely leave so he could (presumably) personally discuss the ludicrous situation with Jake. Discuss the whore and her conniving ways. I trusted that Josh had told Jake everything I would have. Surely. What else? 

With another side eye at Jake’s screen, I saw him switching from texts and Insta — again. Except this time, I saw her name on his texts. Did she really need to be distracting him this badly? Could the bitch not have waited for his assistance with baby shit? God. . .Jake was simply too nice and blinded by that kid in her belly. Thought he had to do so much for his fucking kid. And y/n only used that. She constantly took advantage of Jake. She got under his skin and tricked him into shit using that kid as collateral damage. Seriously. 

What. A. Vicious. Whore. 

The worst part of all of it was. . . I’d let her get this close. But now that I’d seen this little trick she’d just pulled, I was not so sure I could keep my mouth shut anymore. Her claws had no place in my man. Who the fuck did she think she was that she could put him on her Close Friends list like that? And post that hoe ass picture to her Close Friends? The little stupid bitch just wanted to make sure he would see that slutty picture. 

I just thought it was pretty pathetic that she was showing off her body like that when she was going to be a literal mom. Didn’t seem like something a mom should do. . . Not to me. What would the kid think? Growing up knowing its mom cared more about flaunting her body than being a good mom? And that just proved my point that she didn’t give a fuck about anyone but herself. Didn’t give a flying fuck about him. She was an embarrassment. Right along with that clump of cells in her belly.

I had let her cross too many lines. And I could make it so she’d never get Jake alone again if I really wanted to. Shit, I’m sure I could even convince him to let me move into the apartment. Never give them a moment alone. Yet, while I was worried about her advances, I wasn’t worried about how Jake viewed her. I knew he loved the kid, but I couldn’t believe for a second that he could ever think she was worth it. 

Which was why I couldn’t fucking understand why he was still looking at it. It had been minutes of this aimless conversation with my father about my branch of his company in New York. An hour while Jake went to talk to Josh and then came back to the table to look at y/n on his screen. Post, story, post, story. The occasional text with her. Couldn't see what they were saying. He was quick. Whatever. Probably some stupid ass pregnancy bullshit.

And now he was back on the blessed story. How was he looking at it? God. I still couldn’t tell. Was he glaring? I didn’t know. All I knew was he’d been holding his thumb on the screen for a long fucking time so her story wouldn’t close out. There was no chance he actually liked that, right? There was no way.

His thumb had held the screen long enough, but when he finally moved it and let the story play through, I started to feel a little better about her little trick she’d tried to pull. . . But it didn’t actually get to play through. Because then, he’d slid his thumb up on the raunchy ass photo and clicked the fucking heart eye emoji to react to it. That was fucking shitty enough. Then, the fucking fire emoji reaction came next. What the hell? Two emoji reactions?

What did it for me, though, was when he’d slid his thumb again, tapped the send message bubble and typed out ‘God fucking damn… So perfect’. What in the fuck?! Did the idiot think I couldn’t see over his shoulder? Seriously? Why was he encouraging her behavior? Nope. Not fucking okay. I was not going to let him get away with that. 

“God. . . She is just so pretty, Jake,” I finally said with all of the sugar I could muster in my tone. Sweet, but invading his space just enough to let him know that I’d seen everything. The way he’d jumped out of his seat at the sound of my voice made it pretty clear that he didn’t realize I was looking. And it gave me a sick satisfaction. Caught ya, buddy.

I knew I’d caught him off guard. . . that little ‘she looks really good, doesn’t she?’ sort of comment in response to his moment of openly staring at her. The blush that was slowly but surely covering his features as I blinked my long lashes at him pissed me off. . . And the message. I couldn’t scratch it out of my mind. What the fuck? Had he simply sent it because he felt bad for her? Had he been taking a long moment to pity her? Or, in some part of his brain, had he actually thought she looked good like that? 

God. I hoped not. Jake was smarter than that — classier than that. . . Than to think she looked anywhere near attractive as a pregnant sow. What could actually be so hot about an overweight, bloated body? The man had good taste, so surely not. . . I mean, he was dating me, for God’s sake. All he’d ever done with her was fuck her. She had her rightful place secured. Below me.

It was quite funny, actually, how little she’d truly had of him. It made a smug grin come to my face, just as he was looking over his shoulder at me. He was locking his phone at the same time that I turned my grin into one of faux authentic appreciation for her. But seriously. Fuck that bitch. I was really doing such a good job at this front I was putting on. I bet that he couldn’t tell that I was actually pissed about it. I’d gotten quite good at this ridiculous act to hide my distaste for her. 

For added effect, I tacked on an extra bit of falseness that made me want to puke. “She carries pregnancy so well, huh?” I was doing damn good at keeping this smile on my fucking face. Part of the reason I was trying so hard to look nice and undeceiving was to make sure he knew that I was the more beautiful of the two of us. Both looks-wise and heart-wise, I beat that bitch by a landslide. 

And even if it pained me, I would keep up this stupid act that I liked her. . . If all it meant was I could keep him, that would be enough. Because no matter what, I just wanted him to know I was the better person of the two of us. He was staring at me, at a complete loss for words. It made me want to question him. But considering we were at this restaurant with my father, at a very nice establishment. . . now was not the time or place. 

“Who is it, MyMy?” My father had asked from across the way, which just made me raise a brow at Jake. “Who is pretty?”

Oh. . . yes. I hadn’t told my father about Jake’s situation. I’d known better than to do that. My father would not be happy to know I was dating a man who’d knocked up another woman. Whether it was before me or after me, my father wouldn’t hesitate to have very little patience for that. 

And, as much as I wanted to shame Jake for his actions, ruining Jake’s image for my father was not what I wanted in the long run. Not at all. He’d done so enough on his own. . . Leaving the table for so fucking long. No. I had to try my best to make him look good. I wanted to keep Jake in my life. But, my father had to find out sometime. . . if I was going to have the role in this kid’s life that I knew I was bound to take on. Mommy #2. Or simply, a variation of Mom or Mommy or Momma. . . Any of those titles had a nice little ring to them.

“Do you want to tell him, Jakey?” I posed the question, so innocently, to my boyfriend with a couple of flutters of my dark lashes. “It’s your exciting news to share.”

His expression was one of peak confusion. Like he thought I’d already told my father about his predicament. . . Ha! There was no way in hell my father would have greeted him with such open arms had he already known. Who in the fuck did Jake Kiszka think my father was? 

It really showed how little Jake actually knew about being a good, decent father. He had a lot to learn. When he was leaning over to whisper in my ear, I was momentarily sidetracked from my thoughts by how damn good he smelled. It should’ve been a crime to turn someone on so effortlessly. . . With only a mere cologne.

“Does he not know?” He asked me, his tone slightly clipped in my ear. Like he was upset with me, of all people. That was fucking laughable! 

I moved towards him, muttering quietly in his ear with a tiny smile that was somehow sticking to my features. All in the name of an act. “I wanted you to get to share our exciting news, sweetie.”

Our. Yes, our. Even if thinking of the kid invading my life with its dad made me want to vomit profusely, I wanted to continue to be with Jake. And fuck y/n if she thought this kid only belonged to them. I was in this for the long haul because of my love and desire to be with Jake. . . Wanted to get to see his fame come to be and be a part of that with him. 

“I uh –,” Jake started, slowly pulling away from me as his eyes darted back and forth between my dad and me. Eventually, his eyes landed in his lap. A look of. . .defeat? Shame? Good. Sit in it, Jacob. 

“Well, I had a thing with this girl,” he began, ruffling the front of his hair like he so often did. It pissed me off when he’d do it — messing up his hair for nothing. “Wasn’t too serious, I suppose. . . But, well. . .,” he paused once more and I reached over to grasp his hand. I gave it a slight squeeze to urge him to keep going. Jesus Christ. 

“Well what, son?” My father urged, his face showing zero patience for his lagging. Seriously. Same, Dad.

“She's pregnant.” Deplorable fucking words that made me want to scream. But they were out there. Fucking clear as day.

My dad straightened his body against the back of his chair, setting his fork down on his plate firmly before crossing his arms. He wasn’t happy, but in such a nice eatery, he would keep his cool. All about the image in this family. Although, his face was set, hard as stone. Lips, a flat line, and his jaw so impossibly tight with quiet aggravation. . . I knew that look from my father very well. He could hide his irritation from most, but not me. Not when it was a look I found so fucking impressive. 

This look – one he’d give people when he was all ears, but not in a good way. Not in an understanding way. I rarely got the look. My father had told me nearly my entire life how I could do little wrong. He’d always understood me. This look had always been reserved for the people who had wronged me, or him, or us. 

Amir Mustafa – my father – he was. . . a simply powerful man. I’d looked up to him and his ability to control people and situations for my entire life. Many employees of ours had gotten this brash, stern look right before getting kicked to the fucking curb. He did it all my laugh growing up, right in front of me, to countless miserable people. (And now I got to do the exact same thing to my employees. . .) I watched my father, seeing the wheels in his mind beginning to turn. And god knew my father was not going to let this news set easily over our barely touched dessert trays. 

“And she’s, um. . .,” Jake looked at me again as he cleared his throat, a look of fear and embarrassment on his face. For the sake of putting on this ridiculous show of understanding for him, my grin widened. 

Thankfully, Jake quit stupidly pursing his lips. His mouth, opening timidly right before he said the punch line. “The baby is—. She’s pregnant with—with my baby.”

And there it was! He was so stiff under my hands, which still held onto his arm in the spirit of fake pride and togetherness with this obscene news.

I was glad he was so stiff underneath me. He needed to sit in this. Because god knew — I’d be embarrassed if I were him, too. Embarrassed to admit I was the father of her offspring. And, yeah, I knew this wasn’t easy for him. But he didn’t deserve for it to be easy. He’d gotten himself into this mess. And put me in the middle of it with him. The little stunt that had gotten him here had happened after he’d left me high and dry over the summer. . . If only he’d have stayed with me. He wouldn’t be in this ludicrous situation. But, in spite of how he deserved to be treated by me, I just sat and smiled. Supported his mistake-making ass.

God. . . I was so easygoing and compassionate for this man. So kind hearted and patient to put up with his and y/n’s bullshit. He was so lucky to have me. Even more lucky to have me than I was to have him. . . And that was saying something. He was a gift, sure. But I was a serious gift to him to stick around during this shit. Though, I would let him sit in his uncomfortable, messy truth that he had to come clean about — to my dad. I couldn’t keep picking up Jakey’s mess. Fuck no!

I was just so excited for my dad’s reaction. It was, undoubtedly, going to be in my favor. Knowing my father, I wondered if now was the time he’d reveal the little secret I’d kept from Jake. Surely this information would set him over the edge enough that he’d mention it. Get offended that this had been flaunted in front of my face for ‘X’ amount of time. He’d get spitting angry for one very specific reason. 

This reason. . . Well, it was one my father had cared much more for than I ever had. . . Getting this certain information years ago hadn’t bothered me at all, really. But my father? He’d always hated the idea for me. This man had defended my honor when it came to topics such as this. And now that I was directly involved in the pregnancy of someone else? 

“The baby is due in May,” Jake continued, apparently feeling the need to fill the air with more words.

Rather than rolling my eyes like I wanted, I let my faux smile widen at my dad. I even grabbed Jake’s arm tighter, laying my head on his shoulder, as though we were telling my daddy the news together. But, of course, I wasn’t about to say a damned word. I’d let Jake do all the talking. Wasn’t really my news to share, honestly. His little fucking joyride he was paying the consequences for. Besides, the less I had to speak her name, the better. 

I had zero problem putting Jake through this awkward little confession. Especially after I had caught sight of his little interaction with y/n’s instagram post. He deserved it after that. No matter the reason for messaging her. He was dating me. Other women shouldn’t exist. He deserved my dad’s piercing stare; this stare, smothering Jake for a long time before anyone else spoke. I knew what that meant, too. It meant my dad had a lot to say, but he was letting it all sink in before he said all that he was thinking.

I knew he wouldn’t speak out of anger. I knew he would say it all in a way that would make Jake feel really bad about the whole fucking thing. Make him think about it in ways he hadn’t yet. But I also knew where it was going. That little something I hadn’t brought up to Jake yet. I was waiting for the right time, and for the appropriate situation to come up. The situation that I would come out on top of. For once, everything wouldn’t be about her. 

With a sarcastic smile on his face, my dad finally took a breath to begin his response. And I, still hanging onto Jake’s tense arm, kept the same smug ass grin on mine. “This is certainly news to me,” my dad said, with zero congratulations. There was none necessary. Fuck this kid, seriously. My father kept his arms crossed tight against his puffed chest. “And this girl. . . I assume, then, that she’s still in the picture? Do you see her often?” 

I could feel Jake taking a deep breath at that question. The air was shaky as he breathed it out of his nose, his arm rock solid with the increase of tension. And, god. . .Try as I might have. . . The flexing of his muscles began to turn me on. Yeah, I knew it was an inappropriate response given the situation. I rubbed my thighs together subtly under the table. I could feel however I wanted, though. I wasn’t the one in the hot seat. And in that moment, I felt solid in the fact that Jake’s tension was because of me. And that made me want him all the more, because I knew that tension was because of how much he cared about me. And I was loving it. 

I wanted him to feel tense about it. He was finally getting an idea about how I felt about the whole situation. Being with Jake was all I desired, and I was willing to go through this shit to be with him. But he needed to be slapped in the face with the reality of it all. And I was glad my dad would be the one to make him understand my side. I couldn’t be the one to do it. I needed to keep up my nice girl act in front of everyone. Not let on to the fact that it all pissed me the fuck off.

Jake looked at me with wide eyes, and I just smiled. I wasn’t going to help him explain that shit. I left the floor open for him to tell my dad about the fucked up living situation. Maybe Jake saying the words out loud to someone outside of the whole thing — seeing someone else’s perspective on it — would make him understand how I felt about it. I waited, on baited breath, ready to listen to Jake give my dad the truth. He lived with this woman. And I couldn’t deny, he deserved a negative reaction for it. . . For what he was putting me through. 

The sexy man under my hands gulped as he turned his attention back to my dad, whose piercing glare never let up. I swore he didn’t blink once as he waited for Jake’s response, his thin lips under his black mustache pursed. 

“She’s. . .,” Jake cleared his throat once more, and his body stiffened completely against the back of his chair as he sucked in a deep breath. I kept my grip on him, held his arm even tighter than before, felt the sudden urge to dig my nails into the muscles. Fuck. I watched my dad’s eyes flit to me, then narrow in on Jake. “She’s my, uh—she’s actually my roommate.”

Jake’s hand shot up to his scalp, fluffing his hair and smoothing it back down. God. Stop messing with your hair. You’re ruining it. Then he began rubbing away at his chin. Little nervous ticks of his that pissed. me. off. But, I was more focused on the excited nerves surfacing in me about admitting the fucked up truth. It made me shiver with excitement. 

When I looked over at my dad, I got even more thrilled. Because it was obvious he was far from happy with that news. It was apparent in his body language, and the silent non-verbals he was communicating to Jake. The clenching jaw, the breathy chuckle of disbelief. Jake knew it was fucked up. He wouldn't have been so goddamn nervous about admitting it if he didn’t know. The way he hesitated before delivering the news said that he was probably not so proud to admit such a thing. Who would be? And who would want to tell their girlfriend’s dad about such a thing?

Let’s just say, he was lucky my dad had never been the physically violent type. No, his weapon of choice was always in his words, in the way he could manipulate people with them. Watching him get what he’d wanted out of people my whole life taught me a lot; he taught me how to get what I wanted out of people. I knew how to play nice, learned to easily pick up on how people ticked and used that to my advantage. I’d learned to tell people the things they wanted to hear, made people like me by faking whatever I needed to in order to earn their trust. 

My dad was always quick to acclimate himself to any situation, to anybody with a simple manipulation tactic based on what he'd known about them. And I always did the very same thing. Because of that little trait of ours, I knew what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. He knew just what to say to pull even more guilt from Jake. That’s why I never told him, because I knew the right time would come. And this was the right time. Perfect, actually.

He let the silence linger just a bit longer, making sure Jake was nice and petrified of his reaction. “You know, Mr. Kiszka,” my dad said as he uncrossed his arms, his voice much softer than Jake had probably expected, given the harsh breath he’d sucked in when my dad began speaking.

But I knew exactly what my dad was thinking, how he was feeling. I knew the sweet voice was only a front, a tactic he used often when he wanted to make someone feel, well, like shit. “I, uh, don’t know if MyMy has told you this yet. . .,” he paused with a sincere smile, making sure the silence hung in the air even more to add to the effect of the news. 

I smiled too when Jake looked at me again. A sad smile, though. As sad as I could make it. My dad and I locked eyes and communicated with each other that we were on the same page. Silently, of course. We could always speak with our eyes. I carefully nodded my head at him, giving him the ‘okay’ to keep going. 

I could feel Jake’s arm loosen just a little under my fingers when he looked back to my dad. His pretty lips were parted and his eyebrows were scrunched. He had no idea what was coming. I felt a little bad for him because of that, actually. No one should have to carry as much guilt as my poor Jake did. With as much as I knew he really loved me, I knew this would hurt. 

“Jake,” my dad said as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m overjoyed for you — overjoyed that you’ll have this singular opportunity to experience being a father.” 

He was using the exact tactic I knew he would. Excited for Jake, but with a tone that held sorrow for me. I felt it coming. I had to contain myself—I was ready for it. Ready for the news that would seal Jake’s guilt and keep him with me. My father cleared his throat before he laced his hands together, eyes intent on Jake’s. “Because our beautiful MyMy will never be able to carry a child.” There it was.

Jake stiffened under my hold before he looked down at me. I laid my head on his shoulder, even sniffed a few fake tears. It was true—I was born with a defect that made it impossible for me to ever become pregnant. Sure, it was sad. Whatever. Sad for most women, maybe. My dad had always felt horrible about it. But for me, it was a different story. 

I had always viewed it as a positive thing. I didn’t want kids. I had never wanted kids. No, definitely not my cup of tea. First of all, kids were simply a nuisance to me. I was glad I’d never had to worry about getting pregnant. Second of all, having a kid would undoubtedly take the attention away from me – only my kid getting the attention. Yeah, no thanks. And, third, it just meant I got to have a lot of unprotected fun. Well. . . until Jake. Who hated having sex without condoms. Probably despised that he was having a kid in the first place and wanted to be extra safe, but didn’t want to say so. That was probably why he was protecting himself so well. But, now, that was something he knew he never had to worry about. No surprises, no accidents. 

Knowing Jake, I knew this “sad” fact about me was something I could use to make him feel bad for me. Another little tactic I’d learned from my father. And that combined with me knowing the way Jake ticked. . . This little “unfortunate” truth about my body would force him to sympathize with me. Make him feel so bad that he’d stop giving such a fuck about y/n and give more fucks about me. 

“Maya. . . why didn’t you—,” Jake’s voice was solemn, shocked. He looked me in the eyes, with his that had started glassing over. He was about to cry? Ugh, poor thing. He felt it right along with me. He knew that my heart had been broken by the triggering news of him becoming a father. Something I would never be able to give him. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

I mustered all the fake emotion my body was able to create, even shed a few alligator tears to really add to the effect. “I’m sorry, Jakey. I didn’t want to cause you anymore stress, baby. You’re already under so much.” All because of the mistake baby and stupid ass y/n's attention-seeking ass, I added silently. I sniffed to cover my inward irritation. It was the last of my tears, though, so I decided to lean in and kiss his stiff lips. My poor Jake. So full of sadness for me that he couldn’t even kiss me back. “You know, with y/n and all. I didn’t want to add anymore pressure to you. I just didn’t want you to feel bad for me.” Because she does such a good job at making you feel bad for her and I'm better than that, I added (once again) silently.

“Feel bad for—?” He looked at me in pure confusion, and I was starting to get upset over his lack of a response. I had fully expected him to hold me right when he was told the news, tell me how much he loved me and that he’s sorry for everything he had put me through in our time together. 

But to my shock, he pulled his arm away from me. Completely yanking it from my hand. A knee-jerk response, I thought. Maybe his way of coping with such a thing was to withdraw, let it really sink in before comforting me in such a difficult moment. I’ll say this, though – he should’ve considered himself lucky that my dad hadn’t been paying close enough attention to pick up on that little move of his. Yeah, he surely would’ve put Jake in his place had he witnessed that. Dad had reached for some chocolate something sitting on the giant dessert charcuterie board during the awkward lull. This had kept his eyes focused elsewhere when Jake had pulled that little trick. God. . . this lull - inevitably caused by Jake. Aggravating. . . BUT, I was understanding. So, even if it were annoying, I didn’t take that as a bad sign. I not only knew that it wasn’t anything more than Jake’s way of dealing with the news, but I was the calm and stable girlfriend that didn’t flip shit over those things. 

“I know this may be hard for you to hear, Mr. Kiszka,” my father said, his voice breaking through the silence that Jake had opted for. “Especially since you clearly aren’t opposed to having a family. Not the careful type, are ya, son?” My dad laughed, and I laughed, too. Made it seem as though it wasn’t a big deal to have a baby momma. I didn’t want Jake to take this whole having a kid with y/n thing any more seriously than he already had been. Yeah, it was a big deal. But why make him think it was the biggest deal in his life? When I was right there? 

“Listen,” my dad continued. “You and I both know that our Maya is worth it. She’s worth more than all of the babies in the world. She’s no less of a woman because of it. You’re enough of a man to understand that. Isn’t that right, Mr. Kiszka?”

Jake just stared into his lap. His eyes were squinted from the crinkle in his brows. He must’ve not heard my dad, because he wasn’t very quick to respond. And it really began to annoy me when he didn’t respond at all. It was like his mind was somewhere else. And I didn’t like it, because I didn’t know where it was. It took me nudging his shoulder to get his fucking attention. And even then, he’d asked my father to repeat himself when he lifted his head. When he decided to join us at the table again. 

When my dad said everything for the second time, and then cleared his throat for emphasis, Jake nodded his head. “Y-yes, sir. She—uh, yeah. Yeah, she is.”

That didn’t convince me for shit. He sounded unsure, like he didn’t believe it. It could’ve been the shock of the news that made him sound that way. Had to be. He knew it was true. He knew I was worth more than any—than his—baby. Having me at his side was the real prize. He knew that. But it still felt. . . Not how I wanted it to feel. He wasn’t giving enough. I wanted him to give more. More of a reaction, more of a response, more to me. 

I started having a hard time putting on a front any longer, because I was confused. I looked at my dad. And he was confused, too. But he didn’t say anything else. The best thing to do at that point was to let Jake stew on his words. 

And even though my little act was beginning to crumble, I still managed to put on another smile. I squeezed Jake’s thigh, holding my hand there to offer him the reassurance that he wasn’t offering me. He’d hear about this later, that was for certain. “Thank you, baby,” I said to him, keeping my hand on him to remind him of who was by his side. 

A woman who had put up with more from him than any woman would. Me.

End of Maya’s POV

It was Christmas Eve when you felt the first kick. 

At first, you hadn’t been totally sure what it was, waking up in a panic in the middle of the night. 

You’d felt something rustle in your tummy. . . thought it was an upset stomach, leading to something that could possibly be wrong. But when you’d realized you didn’t feel sick, you’d let yourself lay there and think as the little thumping feeling happened again in your tummy. The feeling had you reflecting on Dr. Rose’s words from your last visit. You’d been on your way out, with fresh knowledge of the fact that there was a baby girl bouncing around in your tummy. After hearing how (apparently) active she was, you’d asked about kicking. When would you finally be able to feel the baby kick?

Dr. Rose had answered wisely and unworried, knowing the answer without even having to think about it. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t start feelin’ your sweet girl’s purposeful movements within the next couple of weeks. The “Quickening,” as it’s most often called. When she starts movin’ to tell ya she’s there,” she’d winked, explaining as she clicked a few buttons to get your next appointment set up on the front desk’s computer. The office had been empty at that point, as you’d been the last patient that day. An early evening appointment, as you remembered. “The movements feel strange at first, just a warnin'. Like a little flutter in your tummy, but different. I’d say what most compare them to are tiny pulses. Each kick from the foot or elbow being flung – they feel like a single pulse of a heartbeat – that’s what I hear from first-time mothers more than anythin’ else.”

And that was exactly what it felt like to you. Right now. Honest to God. The feeling was so strange; odd enough that it’d literally awoken you. 

Lavender had woken you up. Your baby girl. 

And her little movements — so purposeful. They truly felt like teeny tiny heartbeats in your belly. You looked down, lifting your giant t-shirt to observe. Stevie had rustled for the briefest of moments at your feet, but had snuggled back down when she’d realized you weren’t in trouble. You watched your tight, round tummy to observe if you could see any of the movements. . . you knew it wasn’t unusual for babies to be visible from the outside. Little imprints from their feet or hands. . . . you’d watched enough TikToks to know that. 

It was a few minutes that you watched and waited, but the movements stayed internal. No external evidence. . . Too early for that, surely. But. . .you knew there was a way to feel them externally. If you just touched your tummy where you felt her on the inside, you’d be able to feel her right under the palm of your hand.

Yet, as badly as you wanted to touch where you felt it, you were also hyper aware of not doing so much that could inadvertently make the baby stop. Yes, it sounded unlikely, but you’d been dying to feel her and you wanted the feeling to last as long as it could. However it could. It was the craziest sensation and completely took your breath away. . . you could have felt it happen forever and it still wouldn’t have been long enough. 

But. . . you had to feel closer to her. She was right there. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. And, when you gently placed your hands on the taut skin of your tummy, your breath caught in your throat. Tears immediately sprung to your eyes.  It was unlike anything else ever. . . To feel your baby girl moving under your hand. Little, tiny kicks as if to say ‘hello, mommy!’. 

Very carefully, you went to raise onto your knees, the softness of your sheets pressing delicately into your soft skin. You kept your t-shirt raised, then put your palm on your belly once more. . . And it took almost no time to feel her. Still. She just kept on going. . . Dr. Rose had said she was active. . . And god, you loved it. You could tell now. She was old enough to show you herself – finally. 

God. Tonight had truly been a night to rival all others. First, the Nutcracker. Then, the wonderful bubble bath you’d treated yourself to, to combat the cold temperatures from the evening. And finally. . . the cherry on top – Lavender kicking. 

The only person missing from all of it. . . the one you wanted there most — for all of it. . . . . .Was the same one who’d left you on delivered for the past twenty four hours. An entire day of nothing.

The texts that had started after your earth-shattering, toe-fucking-curling phone call – the texts that he’d started. But, no response after your final text (which had not been the type of text to end a conversation on). Nothing in response to you when you’d responded to his Instagram message. You’d taken fucking courage and responded with a damn heart, too. It was terrifying using a heart in a text with someone you were secretly in love with. . . And it had been the second time you’d done it last night. But. . .he hadn’t even seen it. Hadn’t even cared to look. 

You were so damn confused. And hurt. 

But, the night before with Josh and Elsie, watching movies into the wee hours of Christmas Eve morning. And then, with your time with them and your grandparents at the ballet tonight. These events had been more than enough to raise your spirits. The ballet, gelato at Amorino, and having your people with you had done very well at distracting you. You’d taken time to tell your grandparents the gender and the name, but hadn’t divulged the full significance of the name. All they knew was that the plant was a favorite of yours that correlated with certain events that concerned your pregnancy with Lav. 

When you’d gotten home, you had felt a hint of sadness as the dark, empty apartment had surrounded you. The disheartening feeling that came with the lack of communication with Jake. The deafening static of crickets from your phone’s text and Instagram message thread with Jake. You’d kept your phone on Do Not Disturb, but the urge to check to see if he’d responded had been too strong on a few occasions that evening. 

So, in order to get your mind off of it, you’d focused on Stevie for a long while. You’d fed her, given her a couple of her favorite treats, snuggled and pet her as you’d scrolled TikTok. . .

And before long, you’d decided on self care; a bubble bath. And it had been very nice. So damn nice. You’d used the little bath tray Elsie had gotten for you the Christmas before last, filled your bath with a lavender-scented bubble bath soap, threw in a pink bath bomb, and lit many candles that smelled like your favorite plant. 

On a last minute thought, right before you’d settled in the tub, you decided on a movie. So, with your phone on a stand on the toilet seat, you’d watched through Barbie in The Nutcracker. It was a favorite of yours and Elsie’s that you’d watched the night previous with Josh when they’d stayed the night with you. But the temptation to watch it again had been too great and it always lifted your spirits to indulge in it. 

Once the bath had done its job at relaxing you, sleep had come easily. Though, it was as if Lavender had known that you’d needed a touch more of encouragement to see through Christmas Eve. To see through her father ignoring you. 

It’s fine, you’d told yourself all night. He’s not yours. You can only be so upset. Get. Over. It.

Yet, with Lavender giving the tiniest, feather-light kicks to your palm, Jake was, once again, on your mind. How badly you wanted him here for this. Home. With you. 

When you glanced at your phone screen, you noticed it was already past midnight. . . You had no clue what the flight schedules were and he hadn’t told you shit about when he’d be headed home. Considering he’d ignored you completely all day long. . . But, seriously. You couldn’t blame him. You weren’t together. He didn’t necessarily owe you that specific knowledge. 

So, all you could do in the waiting was sit there, on your knees and feel her. . . Let the warm sensation that was blooming in your chest take over. For the millionth time in the past two days, though, you really fucking hated this trip that Jake was on that had taken him away from you. . . Because he should’ve been here for this. 

Lavender’s very first kicks. 

Jake’s POV

Only ten minutes away from home. Only. Ten. Minutes.

I didn’t know where this had come from, but it hadn’t stopped for the past three and a half hours. On the way to the airport, waiting at the airport, on the way to the car at the airport, and now. . . On our way to y/n’s apartment. Home. 

All of this shit from Maya, directed at me, coincided with me doing shit I’d gone out of my way to do for her. I’d taken time away from my Christmas with Josh – with y/n – for this little trip to South Carolina to see her father. . . I’d absolutely gone out of my way to do that shit to make her happy. But apparently what I did wasn’t enough as she was pointing out ways she needed me to give her more. 

“I just feel like you’re not giving me all of you, Jake,” she’d said as we’d ventured through the airport in South Carolina. “For instance, your baby. . . I don’t even know half of anything about the baby.”

“You’re holding back. There’s so much more to you and what’s going on in your life all of the time. . . So much more that I’m not getting,” was what she’d continued on with as we’d boarded the plane to come home. “And as your girlfriend, I feel I deserve all of who you are. . . I love you, Jakey. . .So I want more of you.”

Then, waiting at baggage claim at LaGuardia, it had persisted. Holding onto my arm as I’d given her kiss after kiss to get her to stop talking. . . But, of course, that hadn’t worked. “I just can’t believe there is so much about all of the baby stuff that I still don’t know, Jakey. . . There’s all kinds of fun, exciting shit that I don’t know and I want to,” she’d explained, one hand going to slide into my back pocket as the other had only tightened on my bicep. 

I’d looked down at her, raising a brow at her antics. Yes, it was sweet of her to care. . . It was just a lot. I didn’t know why she was so adamant about all of it. If it had been because of insecurities due to seeing my response to y/n’s story, I had already said sorry for responding to it. 

And for not knowing how the fuck to explain it when she’d brought it up to me, I’d done a damn good job lying to her. Obviously, I’d had to lie. I’d talked her down from all of the story shit. I’d done all I could to lie my way out of that. I couldn’t honestly tell her it hadn’t meant anything, but I’d lied enough that I felt she’d fallen for it. I’d told her that I’d only been talking about my baby’s perfection. . . . I had just known, when it came up over breakfast (just the two of us, thank god), that I had to hide it – this thing between y/n and me that had come to be again. I couldn’t lose it just because I was foolish enough with my actions for Maya to see some words and shit.

Much to my relief, she’d bought it. She had been totally fine after I’d explained it, it’d seemed. . .Was it the fact that I now knew about her inability to have kids? Was she feeling better about having that all out in the open? More open to discussing things about the baby? Or was there something else that she was insecure or upset over? I didn’t know how to explain this sudden influx of demands and the nonstop talking. It was new. These tangents she just kept going and going. Even with just my eyebrow raises and half assed replies — she’d taken those as indicators to continue. 

“I’ll wait, though. . . For a bit. I love you enough to wait, but. . . Only for so long before I get really hurt. . . You know?” She’d rubbed my arm right before I’d had to leave her to grab her first (enormous) bag. And still, when I came back with it, she was wrapping around me the same as before and kept going. “I’m dying to be more involved. I want all of you. Wanna help you however I can. Really, baby. . .” And, she’d gone the extra mile on that one, rubbing her incredible tits against my arm as she’d grasped my ass through my jeans, left hand still in my back pocket. 

Once we’d gotten her second (equally huge) bag and my one duffel, we’d had to make a quick stop in a single stall bathroom. I’d already been on edge about getting home to y/n after last night. . .and after Maya’s little trick with her boobs? I was but a man who loved a good set of fuckin’ tits. And Maya knew that – pulled that shit on purpose, And while I was definitely not complaining, I was beyond ready to get home. Thankfully, there hadn’t been a whole lot of talking in the bathroom. It had just been a lot of skin slapping against skin. And her (slightly irritating) whines I’d covered with my hand. It hadn’t been too bad, as I’d finished pretty quickly after getting her there even quicker. Because, seriously. I was tired from the trip and ready to get home.

However, she had tried to make me pause to discuss why I had still put on a condom when I knew now that she couldn’t have kids. . . I didn’t explain to her that it was because I simply never had sex without condoms (unless it was y/n, of course). I’d just acted as though I hadn’t heard the question and said some shit about getting home. 

Getting home was the goal.

But even after that quickie and after me ignoring that one question about the condom, she was on the same shit from before. . . So. Fucking. Persistent. 

“I just don’t know how else to get you to understand I’m hurting for more, baby. . . I’m in the dark and it does not feel good. If you’ll just let me around more and if you just tell me more about your baby and all of the baby news. . . I’ll feel so much better. I want to stick around for the long haul, but I need to feel more connected to it all. . . It’s important to me.”

She wasn’t wrong at the fact that I hadn’t given her as much of me as I could, with all of this baby stuff.  But, I still felt like I was doing a pretty damn good job for my predicament. I had a child now. A child that deserved more of my time than Maya did. I also had a responsibility (and a burning fucking desire) to be there for y/n. I couldn’t just be everything, all of the time, for Maya. Not anymore. But she was suddenly acting as though that was what she needed to stick around. 

I especially didn’t want to lose her – break up with her – after finding out her news. Not like I had wanted to lose her or anything before. . . But now, I knew how much I really wanted her to stay around. I felt for her. Very deeply, I felt for her. I loved her and I wanted to do everything in my power to give her even half of the good she’d given me for the majority of our relationship. The entire time I’d known Maya, she had been a helper for me. A listening ear. A sweet and kind confidant, no matter the situation. Through my heartbreak and joy, she was there and she was good for me. To me. She showed her love for me and her heart on a daily basis. I knew that I had a prize in Maya. It was one of the biggest reasons I hadn’t broken things off with her to be with y/n. 

That brought me to the paramount reason I couldn’t end things with her. The painful realization that y/n could very well not ever want me. At least not in the way I wanted her. How I’d always wanted her. Y/n wanted things to stay the way they were. She had already said plenty to indicate that she didn’t want to change the arrangement we used to have (and were hopefully going to have again). I didn’t want to risk losing Maya, only to not have y/n. I’d stayed with Maya to fill that void. I couldn’t trust that y/n wouldn��t still hurt me if I gave her all of me. . . I knew y/n very well — and well enough that I knew she could still get scared enough to lead us back to the day in the kitchen. And we couldn’t do that yelling at each other shit anymore with a baby around. . . Y/n’s inability to commit and my longing for that with her. . . Not a good match. And that was all we’d come to, yet again, if I were to try to take us beyond the just-fucking. 

And, then, there were the two talks (yes, two – one at Carmella’s and one afterwards) her dad had given me. . . All of the talk of her not being able to have kids and the good she deserved. I couldn’t lose her. Her father’s words were the final reason for not ending things with Maya. The tense moment, at his home, on repeat in my head. Said he’d “wanted a moment to talk with me about everything” – only him and me. 

It had happened after we’d gotten back to his massive and expensive home, from that famous sweet treats place called Carmella’s. Fuckin’ Carmella’s. 

When we’d gotten to her dad’s house, it had been late enough that Maya had wanted to go to bed, lay in her (probably) 100 percent cotton Egyptian sheets. It was obvious that they had money – a lot of it. . . And it was obvious that her father loved to spoil her with it. To each their own. But, I hadn’t wanted to sleep yet.

No, after my day, I’d wanted to take a shower to relax my mind. . .to think about everything that I’d found out about from Maya’s father. Not Maya, but her father. That had stung like a massive bitch, but not nearly as badly as I’d expected. . . Though, in my head, I could only imagine having babies with y/n. I’d mentioned more babies to her before and I’d meant that shit. Had slipped up when saying it, but in my heart, I’d known. It was the truth. 

Considering this, I’d only really been sad for Maya, more than me. . . Not really sad for me at all. Just hurt that she’d kept that from me. I just couldn’t feel sadness for it on my future’s behalf because I didn’t want her to be the mother to my children. Didn’t trust her with that. Loved her, but not enough to be my future babies’ mom. . . . Only trusted y/n that much. 

It was odd, because even if I didn’t trust y/n with my heart, I explicitly trusted only her with my kids. I think it was because I knew she was only scared to care that deeply for me – it seemed wouldn’t ever let herself. But I knew, wholeheartedly, that she could care for our children like that. That she would. Already was. Lavender was a lucky baby girl to have a mommy like her. . . To have her as a mommy specifically. Because y/n’s heart was so incredibly huge. 

In the end, I was just pissed the fuck off that she’d let her dad tell me. She was a thirty year old woman who’d damn sure informed other people of it, so why not me? I was someone she’d told me she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. . . She felt comfortable enough telling me plenty of other things. Personal things. 

It’d been quite a lot to process with her giant father there, eyes stony as he’d stared me down. I hadn’t even wanted to worry about his opinion of me. . . I would’ve preferred to only discuss this type of thing with Maya. Even if I didn’t want it with her, her lack of care to inform me of it sooner had pissed me off beyond words. It was like she’d wanted me to be humiliated. But. . . I knew Maya better than that, right? She’d never been like that before. . . . Conniving or anything of the sort. Perhaps she truly had been worried to tell me because she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.

When I’d finally somewhat calmed down from it after my long, hot shower, I’d only had y/n in mind. So, after I’d changed into my pajamas, I’d been on my way to call her from the front porch. Just wanted to hear her voice. To ease me. . . And, I’d be able to explain my sudden, unexpected absence. But, right before I could exit the hallway of Maya's old room, her father. Amir. Her father was humongous. Towered over me by a solid foot of height, and was easily 280 pounds of man. 

He’d approached me with purposeful steps and quiet footfalls. He didn’t want to disturb Maya’s sleep, but he’d wanted to make a point with me. That much had been obvious right off the bat. And, just as I’d gone to greet him, he’d held a large hand up, in front of my face.

“I’ll control this conversation, Mr. Kiszka,” he’d rumbled at me, my name having come from deep in his puffed chest. 

I’d been nervous as fuck. The man intimidated me in a way I fucking hated. And I was tired of news about Maya coming from him. I hadn’t known if I could handle anything more that he could’ve wanted to tell me. What was next?, I’d wondered. Was Maya going fucking blind, too? And couldn’t tell me that, herself, either? 

My mind had begun swirling with other things that she possibly just hadn’t told me yet. 

“Yes sir,” I’d offered on a shaky breath. (I wasn’t easily intimidated, so I hated how this man made me feel so fucking small – in stature and as a human being.) 

At my words, he’d held up his hand again. His features, curving down to say ‘don’t test me’. “I wanted to take a moment to talk – just you and me,” he’d all but growled, crossing his massive arms across his chest.

After being scolded for speaking twice already, I’d only nodded while (sadly) placing my phone in my pocket. I’d known, based on his tone and stance, that I wouldn’t be able to go outside anytime soon. “Maya has been perfect her entire life. She has always been a dream. And she does not deserve to be treated like she isn’t just because you got yourself into a sticky situation,” he’d told me, backing me up against the nearest wall of the hallway. This moment had been worlds different from the restaurant. With Maya there, he'd taken a calm and cool approach. 

Though, when it was just me, he’d been a lot more serious than before. Quiet, stern. Intent on intimidating the fuck out of me. 

“And, I’m inclined to believe, Mr. Kiszka, that if you haven’t ended things with my daughter by now,” he’d taken a deep breath in through his flared nostrils, gripping his arms to the point that his thick fingers, umber brown in color, had turned white. I’d swallowed – thickly. “Well, it seems to me you don’t intend to. You want my baby girl to stick around. You’ve kept her around and forced her to experience all of this, led her around by a string. . . . And all while she can’t have her own children.” 

He’d walked close enough to me that my back was up against the wall, arms limp and lifeless at my sides as I hadn’t dared to look away from his almost-entirely-black irises. His pupils, dilated in his apparent rage. With his next words, I’d felt tiny droplets of spit land on my forehead. I hadn’t been able to control my fury, being spoken to like he had spoken to me. My fists had tightened at my sides and my entire body had stiffened to the point of completely unmoving. “It would be a seriously dark and ugly mark on your character, Mr. Kiskza,” he’d spat my name at me, the words landed on my face in the form of his saliva. He’d been fucking snarling at me. No fucking joke. “To force my Maya through all of this and then get rid of her as though she doesn’t matter. . . My sweet angel of a daughter.” 

I had never one to let people get to me, intimidate me all for the purpose of knocking me down and making me feel small. And, angry as I was, this conversation with her dad had certainly succeeded in shrinking me, inch by inch. . . . In that moment, I’d like shit for ever thinking of anyone but Maya. Felt tiny as a fucking mouse. . . Like gutter trash. Which, I knew, was what he’d wanted. And, he’d fully succeeded in getting it from me. . . I had put up with that shit, and let myself feel small all for the sake of loving his daughter enough to feel guilty for putting her through the shit I had. He’d had just a bit more to say, but had waited. Tapping his foot in anticipation for my response. As if I were his child, getting disciplined for stealing fucking cookies from the cookie jar. 

After a nod of confirmation from me that I’d heard his words, he’d cleared his throat and continued.

“Our Maya deserves the world and if you don’t give it to her for the simple fact that you’re going to have a child, you’d be a damned fool. And you’d be cheapening my baby girl of the opportunity to be an incredible second mother to your child.”

I hadn’t even dared to argue with him over my child not needing a second mother. She’d have a solid one mother — already did, in fact. Y/n was the only mother I wanted for our baby girl.  Lavender didn’t need multiple mothers. Only one perfect mother. And she already had one. Maya could be someone in my daughter’s life, but not a mother. I didn’t want her doing that. I wouldn’t allow her to be a mother to my baby girl. Maya’s father had been wrong for insinuating anything different than that. 

But he wouldn’t have listened to me for a second. Not if it had anything to do with questioning his word. And everything else he’d said had struck me enough that I hadn’t wanted to correct him at that moment. Come to think of it, his little confrontation and how shitty it had made me feel was definitely part of the reason I’d been on edge for the past almost-twenty four hours. 

And, unfortunately now, we were trapped in her car for the time being – as we’d driven to the airport in her car. Thankfully, I was driving – so I got to control the speed at which we got back to my place. I’d also needed some sort of distraction from the way her voice was grating on my ever-loving nerves – this nonstop questioning. The mere sound of her voice felt like a nail being driven in my eardrum. Again, this was something new that had recently developed. . . Most of my irritation with Maya, though, I was attributing to an insane amount of tiredness. All of the traveling. All of the talks. All of the emotions surrounding the texts and the phone call. 

“Jake, I don’t understand why you’re keeping anything from me. None of it is that big of a deal, babe. . . . It’s just cutesy little baby stuff.” 

Where was this coming from? 

“What about the gender, babe? That’s a good one! Just the gender. . .  Everyone is going to know it soon anyway,” she tried to reason, as I mentally pled with the traffic light to just fucking change. “If I just knew what we were expecting. . .”

Goddammit. Not the gender. What the fuck? Seriously – Maya, confronting me about wanting to know the goddamned gender, had been the last thing I’d needed to deal with. I did not want to tell her. That was exclusively mine and y/n’s to share for now, along with my twin and her sister. There was no reason for Maya to know. 

But. . . . she was pushing me awfully close to a breaking point of some capacity. And I’d never felt that way with Maya. This way. This longing to just get her to shut up, somehow, some way. This ongoing frustration with her was something new. Something I felt starting last night at Carmella’s . . . . Hanging on to me – clinging to me when that had been the last thing I wanted at that moment. 

I didn’t want to be annoyed with someone who I wanted so badly to love unconditionally. She’d done so much for me; the least I could do for her was try to get past wherever this vexation had come from. But god – I could hardly take anymore. I was just tired, surely. . . I was ready to get home and lay in my own bed. Speaking of which. . . I had no idea if Maya was planning on staying the night, but I really, really hoped she was planning on going to her own home, too. 

Didn’t want her to stay with me. For multiple reasons, but mostly one. One very beautiful reason, hopefully still waiting for me. . .

“Jakey, please, babe. I just want to know as much as I can so I can start buying baby clothes for–.”

“No, Maya. Fuck!” I finally snapped, voice raising a decibel higher than it should have in the small space of the car. I’d been giving half assed responses for the past few hours – spent a lot of time giving her a variety of ways to say ‘I’ll try my best’ or 'let me think about it’. But I couldn’t take it anymore. Thankfully, the traffic light switched within seconds of my heated way of reply. I felt really fucking bad – didn’t want to snap at her. But it had been threatening to leave my lips for the past several hours and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The last few words that somewhat sputtered from my mouth were from utter irritation and they couldn’t be contained, even if they were unintelligible. “I’m not–I can’t– The fucking–? God! No. Please fucking stop. Just for a minute.”

My words hung there, uncomfortably, for a few seconds before I heard her sigh. She was not happy about my response, but I’d had enough.

“Well,” she replied, her voice more of a huff than anything. She was noticeably upset. And I wanted to roll my eyes at her sudden theatrics. She’d never been like this. I couldn’t handle this shit right now.

But. . . when I heard a subtle sniff, I looked over at her with regret painted on my features. And, just like the sniff implied, there were legitimate tears accumulating in her pretty eyes. I hadn’t ever seen her cry for the entirety of our relationship. Even when we’d just been fucking at the beginning of summer. . . And for the past few months of dating her, never a single tear. . . Maya had never cried. Last night at Carmella’s was the first time I had ever seen that from her. Those tears after her dad told me the news. . .  It had been hard to see from her. 

Maya was a dream, usually. So sweet, yet extremely even tempered – not one to frequently break her calm resolve. It was something I loved about her. She was predictable. But I couldn’t have predicted anything at Carmella’s, just like I couldn’t have predicted this. Had I not tried well enough to know her? Fuck. That made me feel really shitty. Seriously, was it a bad thing that I’d never seen Maya cry until last night? And the idea that I’d made her cry. . . the idea that I could make any woman cry. . . I couldn’t help but think of y/n’s tears. . . when she'd been forced to tell me about being pregnant with Lavender. How easily she’d broken down. And I’d hated it. . . didn’t want to see her cry. God. 

And while seeing Maya cry wasn’t nearly as bad as seeing y/n cry, it was still tugging at me – eating at me. There was another traffic light. The last one. Right before we got to the apartment. I could see the complex. And while I really didn’t want to tell her the gender, I couldn’t stand the sniffling anymore. . . When I glanced over and saw a few tears spill from her eyes to her beautiful caramel-toned cheeks. . . Fuck. She was so pretty. And I loved her so much. . . it wasn’t that I didn’t love her. 

I just. . . fuck. I knew what the fuck it was. It was the other reason – the main reason I was so urgent to get back home. The person I was so fucking anxious to simply be around again. The person I’d been missing since the damned moment I had to leave her — unexpectedly. 

The woman that, no matter what, was popping into my mind. At every turn, I was relating things to her. For a reason. And I knew why. I fucking knew. . . . Ever since moving to New York, I had spent a lot of time thinking. And in this thinking, I’d come up with a theory. A theory that life was a song. And, no not like a song. Life was a song. Every person had their own enigmatic masterpiece, unfolding to reveal more of the melody everyday. And by the time a person died, the melody would be chaotic and beautiful – all at once. The life song, all tied up with instruments unique to every person. Every incident in life, a different lyric that described a person. 

Then, of course, in every song, there was a chorus and a bridge. The chorus in life was what a person came back to – at every turn, there was the same chorus to tie you back to the true meaning behind the song. The chorus was the reminder that, no matter what, it existed. And, without it, the song would be empty – meaningless. Every song had a chorus and it was undoubtedly, the predominant and most essential part of the song. 

And then, there was a bridge. The bridge was the triumphant part of the song that made the entire song make sense. . . The Sui Generis, as I’d call it. This idiosyncratic, rare, special section of the song – so unlike the rest of the melody. . . The bridge made goosebumps build because it made one wonder – where had it been for the entire song? It was so magnificent and beauteous that it made the song have purpose, standing out from everything around it.  

And, while I didn’t want to admit this, I had to. It was undeniable. Y/n was my chorus. Lavender was my bridge. . . And if y/n was my chorus, it only meant one thing. . .

I loved y/n. And I loved her more than Maya. So much more. An infinite amount. Wrong as it was, it was true. But, to be ‘fair’, I loved her more than I’d ever loved anyone. Anyone. I loved y/n past the point of life being a song. . . Past death, I would always love y/n – I’d always love her – and so fucking much. I hadn’t seen her coming, but the love had been unstoppable – unavoidable. . . . She was destined to come along and be my chorus.

And with that, I would forever feel this need to protect her and what she wanted held sacred. . . . and in this instance, I also wanted it kept sacred. I watched my fingers flex against the steering wheel, my emotions piling so high. . . I let out several breaths to calm myself. Thought of y/n. What would she want me to say? Honestly, as the light changed, I really thought about it.

In all of what y/n would always be to me. . . the gender of our baby was only a small piece in the grand scheme of things. . . There were so many other things that were more important. Like the baby alone. Lavender, on her own, was only mine and y/n’s. She was who was important. Nothing could change that. The same, unchanging fact I’d been sticking to, mentally, since Maya’s dad had confronted me. . . 

Goddammit. Everything he’d told me. . . . What Maya had finally admitted to me. . . . How she couldn’t have kids. Fuck. She just wanted to experience it. Just this once. She wanted to feel the excitement of the preparation for a baby. And, the gender of a baby was a huge part of that thrill. . . the fun. 

Surely y/n would understand all of this, right? If I were to let Maya in to this little part. . . She had been intent on me prioritizing Maya anyway. . . She wouldn’t want Maya to be sad over something that I could just tell her? Right?

As I was finally turning into the complex parking lot, she spoke up again. Her tear-filled voice chipped, once more, at my heart. “L-look. . . I’m sorry, Jake,” she started, at the same moment that I turned into a visitor parking space. I let out a deep breath through my nose, coming to my decision before I even let myself look into the wet pools of her dark chocolate eyes again. But when I did, my heart broke further. Her full lips, trembling. “I’m just excited and I’m ready to start planning for it–the baby. And I–.”

“She’s a girl,” I hastily cut in, averting my eyes towards the windshield, closing them as I spit it out. Just had to say it. Before I could beat myself up for telling her. Didn’t want to regret that I’d said it. “The baby–she’s a– she’s a girl.”

a/n: for one, i apologize for maya's pov. she is, in fact, a hateful ****, as elsie would say. buuut it was necessary. and - ohhhhh, jake...... like, shit, guys.... what's gonna happen next? i mean for the love of all things holy, y/n is upstairs feeling kicks while maya is KEEPING JAKE IN THE PARKING LOT UGH !!!! guys. what. w d y m ???

i love you all !!! ....+ you can ask @joshym + @builtbybrokenbells if you don't believe me....... but, PLEASE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY -- chapter 13 is, in fact, JUST AROUND THE CORNER !!!! SEE U SOON <3

AS ALWAYS -- please send in asks, respond to chapters, etc. I PROMISE I SEE THEM AND IT IS THE BEST REWARD FOR THE DAYS, WEEKS, AND MONTHS SPENT WRITING THIS STORY! <333 this story takes up SO MUCH time in my already busy family-filled, work-filled, etc. life, but YOU all make it WORTH IT. So I LOVE to hear from you!!!!! <3 xoxoxo

trying my best to keep up w the Covet Visualizer... 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. the photos i pulled inspo from for y/n's photos in this chapter will be in the visualizer :D !!! (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

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (7)

Part 7 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Sorry for the delay!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: none.

Tag list - @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @minnieoo @st4r-girl-official

@courtofjurdan @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @impossibelle

@mybestfriendmademe @hauntedstudentobservationus @julesofvolterra @acourtofbatboydreams @rogersbarnesxx

@skylarkalchemist @sidthedollface2 @aehllitas-blog @fullmoon-94 @acourtofbatboydreams

@aehllitas-blog @fullmoon-94 @5onedirection5 @mindofthescattered @rcarbo1

@dumblani

Y/N's POV

"And hook the right arm a little, no, I mean like thi-, no wait that's not, y/n, hold your, yes ok now we're getting somewhere".

Absolutely nothing that Cassian just said to you made sense. But, he said you're getting somewhere, and he's the expert after all.

You throw your arm around in a right hook, attempting to catch Cassian in the jaw, but he blocks you and brings his clenched fist up to your throat. He, naturally, stops short and doesn't actually touch you, only showing you where your weak spots are when you throw the first punch in a fight, but it was enough to feel Azriel's wrath seeping across the training ring.

"That's enough, Cassian", he calls out, standing to approach you both in the centre of the ring.

"What?! I'm fine Az, I'm not even tired" you protest, attempting to throw another hook at Cassian whilst he is distracted, which he again blocks - only without even looking at you. How does he do that?

"Az, brother, you need to relax. If y/n needs to stop, she will tell me - she did the other day and we stopped straight away. I promise", Cassian reassures Azriel, but you see his eyes darken.

"Why did you need to stop the other day? You didn't tell me that? Were you hurt?".

You let out a frustrated gruff and start to walk away towards the stairs that lead back down to the house. You are almost 7 months into your pregnancy now, and Azriel is only getting more protective and overbearing by the day. Just this morning he wouldn't even let you put your own socks on so you didn't bend down and 'squash the baby'. As you descend the stairs, you see a tuft of golden hair fly past and run into a nearby room, slamming a door. Peering in the direction the tuft of hair came from, you see Rhysand staring ahead blankly.

"Should I ask?".

Rhys just shakes his head to you and wanders off in the other direction. Looking at the door that had just slammed, you walk over and knock quietly.

"Fey?", you call out, resting your ear against the door. No answer.

"Feyre?", you try again. No answer.

"I'm coming in, Fey", you say as you push open the door to one of the many spare bedrooms. When you poke your head in, you see Feyre curled in a ball on the bed, sobs racking her body. You walk over and perch on the edge, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What happened?", you ask quietly, rubbing soothing circles along her shoulder and back. She stayed quiet, sobbing into the pillow, so you stay silent too, keeping up the gentle circles until you feel her body still underneath you. Thinking she's asleep, you go to stand, but you hear a soft sniff and Feyre looks up at you.

"I kissed him".

"Kissed who? Rhys?"

Feyre just nods, hiding her face back in the pillow, but at least this time it isn't accompanied by tears.

"What's the problem with that, Fey?"

"I'm in love with Tamlin!"

Who the fuck is Tamlin?

"He's the High Lord of Spring", Feyre whispers.

Ah shit, I said that out loud.

"Yes, you did".

SHIT. It must be the pregnancy brain.

Silence follows.

Right ok, I didn't say that out loud then.

"No, you didn't".

Cauldron boil me now.

"I am with Tamlin, I am to marry Tamlin, look", Feyre holds up her hand showing a huge emerald rock on her finger. There is no mistaking that she is a soon-to-be bride.

"Was it a mistake?"

"Yes", she says quickly. Then pauses. "Maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Well I wanted to kiss him in that moment. But maybe it's some kind of survivor's guilt thing, Rhys saved me under the mountain and so I owed him a thank you?"

"Maybe Fey, but you don't need to beat yourself up over it. If it was a mistake, it was a mistake. Rhysand will not hold that against you, he's a good male".

"I know", she whispers. After a short pause, she adds "but if it was a mistake, why do I want to do it again?".

You have no answer, so you simply go back to rubbing her back, hoping it is offering her at least some comfort. Your situation was a difficult one, but at least you and Azriel were on the same page. Although, thinking about that, were you? You hadn't discussed the future nor the circumstances of your relationship. Would Azriel see other people? Would you move out when the baby was born and co-parent? You hadn't admitted your feelings to Azriel, certain that he didn't return them, but you hadn't stopped to think about how difficult it would be to watch him start a life with another female one day. A knot forms in your chest as you realise how uncertain your own circumstances are, and you have absolutely no advice to offer Feyre because, if you did, perhaps you'd take that for your own.

You look down and see that Feyre had, in fact, cried herself to sleep. Standing gentle, making sure not to rock the bed too much, you retreat from the room and pull the door closed, wandering off to the library in search of Azriel.

-

You find the trio in the library, sat spread out across the various sofas and chairs in the room. Cassian gives you a wave, sloshing his glass of whiskey and causing half of it to land on the carpet. Rhys only shakes his head and waves a hand, the mess disappearing instantly. Azriel sits himself up from lounging and pats the space next to him on the sofa, a glass of sparkling water appearing on the small table next to the seat. You smile and join him on the sofa, appreciating the water more than you probably should, but you hadn't had a chance to hydrate after your training session since you had found yourself in Feyre's room. Rhys looked at you, a question in his eyes, but you could only shrug a response. You had no update for him.

"How are you feeling", Azriel asks, sipping on his whiskey.

"I'm ok, starting to get a bit sore and achy now, but nothing I can't manage".

"Should we speak with Madja?", Rhys asks, but you shake your head.

"No need, it's all normal pregnancy stuff, nothing to be concerned about". It didn't make Azriel's face look any less concerned.

"I'll stay in tonight", he says, setting down his glass.

"Tonight?".

"Yeah, I'll stay in". You see Cassian glare at him from across the room and raise your eyebrows in question.

"I only went out of my way and wingmanned him a hot date, and he's going to bail only a few hours before. Way to make me look bad Az", he guilts, pulling a pout. But you stopped listening after you hear 'hot date'. Your ears start ringing and your eyes prick with tears which you quickly blink away. Not quickly enough to avoid Azriel's attention, though.

"Are you ok? Does something hurt?".

"I'm fine", you snap a bit harsher than you meant to. Standing from the sofa, you throw a look his way and add a soft "don't worry". You start to walk away, but he calls you back.

"I'm actually quite tired, Az. I'm going to head to bed and get an early night. Have fun on your date and I'll see you tomorrow, ok?'. You leave the room before giving him a chance to respond.

-

Azriel's POV

"You look great, Az!", Cassian says, straightening my bow tie. He doesn't seem to realise that Azriel will be tearing it off the moment before he takes the sky.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks Cass", he offers, looking at the wall.

"What?! I'd definitely do you", Cassian replies, still fiddling with the bow tie. Azriel only look at him with a glare, to which Cassian chuckles.

"Right, you're all ready, off you go", he says, patting Azriel's shoulder and steering him towards the balcony. "Go get her", he winks, before walking back into the House of Wind.

Azriel sighs, rips off the bow tie, and jumps from the ledge, heading into the centre of Velaris.

-

He arrives at the restaurant and finds his date standing outside waiting, even though Azriel himself is 10 minutes early. She is pretty, there is no denying that, but Azriel can't clear his mind of the beautiful female back at the House currently carrying his child.

"Hi!", his date calls, walking over to him.

"Hi Tori", he smiles, offering her a quick hug. The pair of them walk into the restaurant and are seated at a private table on the roof, as arranged by Cassian and Rhysand. The pair of them seem to think that a date will help Azriel's 'brooding', as they call it. But Azriel's mind is in one place and on one thing, and it isn't the female sat opposite him at this table.

The date is nice. The food is good, the drinks are flowing, and the live entertainment is a dream. But Azriel can't stop thinking about y/n.

"You seem distracted?", Tori asks, slurring her words slightly after they finished their 3rd bottle of wine and gestured the waiter for a 4th.

It's like she opened a floodgate. With the question lingering and the sheer volume of alcohol he had consumed to try and distract himself, Azriel suddenly word vomits everything that is in his brain, telling his date every single detail about you and his unborn child.

"A word of advice, Azriel, if I may?".

He nods.

"You clearly care for this female and your baby more than anything on the planet. So why, on the sun and the moon and the stars and the damned cauldron itself, are you on a date with me instead of telling this female that you very clearly love her?".

He sits in silence, stewing over Tori's words, before it feels like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over his entire body. He does. He loves you. He loves you more than he has loved anything or anyone in this world. And tonight, he let you sit at home, uncomfortable and sore, carrying his child, whilst he went on a date. He had fucked up.

Standing abruptly, Azriel reaches into his wallet and throws a heaping handful of notes on the table, covering the bill and then some.

"I'm so sorry", he says to Tori, who merely shakes her head and smiles.

"Go get your girl, Az".

-

Crash landing on the balcony and stumbling through the House, Azriel finds your door and knocks hard.

"Y/n?", he whisper shouts, knocking again.

You must be asleep. But this can't wait.

Azriel pushes the door open, but your bed is empty. He checks the bathroom. Empty.

Perhaps you had a midnight craving? He stumbles down to the kitchen. Empty.

Confused, disorientated, and slightly nauseous, Azriel makes his way to his own bedroom. He walks in and see a small piece of paper folded on his pillow. His eyes struggle to focus but he manages to successfully unfold the paper, only for his heart to fall to his stomach at its contents.

Azriel,

I am so sorry.

Y/n.

It was too late. You'd gone.