#be the change u want to see in the world fr.

[mafuyuakgae]

stickers i made ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و

[clerichs-xi]

This is long overdue, but here is the ref sheet for Klaus Lierstark! He's the main character of my personal passion project where he's a monster hunter who, due to specific circumstances, lost 10 years of his memory and is working with a demon to get them back. The two of them travel through the mortal realm and through different planes later on, solving different dilemmas and unearthing the greater plots at play in their world. they also discover more about themselves and each other along the way!

Hopefully now that i'm on summer break i can start posting more official stuff for this project of mine!! im so excited to finally have more time in my life to write more for Klaus and his world! i hope you enjoy reading thru it twirls hair stick around if you wanna see his boyfriend's demon patron's ref sheet in about a month hehe

Transcript for the written information on the sheet, expansions on said info, and closeup on details under the cut:

Klaus Lierstark (next to his basic outfit is his height: 6'6 or 200cm)

Human, White and Chinese

46 years old

Lives in the mountains as a monster hunter

10 years ago made a pact with a patron for magic

Recently lost those 10 years of memories

Made a new deal with demon patron that if Klaus acts as [the demon patron's] bodyguard, his patron will endeavour to help Klaus recover his memories

Now traverses the mortal realm with his demon patron, but starts developing feelings beyond the parameters of their agreement

✧ ABILITIES ✧

Enhanced strength and speed

Swift healing

message reception from patron (any distance and interplanar but only one way; Klaus can only receive messages from his patron, not send any)

Limited spellcasting (still in the midst of learning)

Proficiency with virtually all melee weapons

✧ LIKES ✧

Warm, thick clothing

Home cooking; doing it and eating it

Outdoor activities (eg fishing, hunting, hiking)

heavy/strong tasting food and drink

✧ DISLIKES ✧

Complex social situations (eg parties, negotiations; just any event where people's motives aren't immediately obvious and every word matters)

manipulative people/social situations (eg talking to someone who purposely misconstrues what you say to prove a point)

really humid and hot climates

Being idle in the same place/indoors for too long

✧ FUN FACTS ✧

Really high resting body temperature; feels like a furnace 90% of the time (really prone to overheating as a result, even in the mountains)

lactose intolerant

greatly enjoys romantic poetry and stories

most normal guy in the whole story (im not joking thats why hes the protagonist of the story because he's so normal)

Closeup on details:

(i will figure out how to do an image id for the ref sheets hopefully soon! theres so much text here already weeps)

[oldmanlogan]

me rn, unable to open my notes bc that post bload up and everyones yelling strike in the tags:

[sukugo]

u guys need to know that gojo was i think the first character i ever wanted to fuck

[reindeer-spotting]

tagged by @deathrehearsal to do a get to know me game... :3

last song : Ænima - tool. Currently listening to santa monica - savage garden. currently watching : working my way thru early 2000s bam stuff but been taking a short break from that. fairmans stuff is next. currently reading : nothing, as i am illiterate. will probably re-read catcher in the rye or goths of grigg since im trying to hone a strong first-person style for something i'm currently writing. current obsession : 1997-2004ish bam margera.. and CKY films & band. and haggard omg i love haggard (also a bam project).

tagging: anyone who wants to :3

[blkkizzat]

❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞

⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER

⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.

⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.

⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.

eta: y'all won. its a series now lol

“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”

Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed. 

Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely. 

Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG. 

“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”

You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.

This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.

“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”

Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.

“Damn straight I did!”

Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm. 

Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit. 

Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall. 

After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.

Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd. 

You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom. 

That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away. 

“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”

Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay. 

“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”

Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.

“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”

Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.

“But I miss you already Sugu!”

Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.

“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!

While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour. 

Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms. 

While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum. 

Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.

“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”

Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly. 

Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation. 

“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”

Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training. 

In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone. 

This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).

Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.

“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”

Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.

“At least I still have you here Bunny.”

“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”

Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.

Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.

“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”

You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh. 

“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”

Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s. 

He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.

“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”

“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!” 

Touché. 

While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.

“Besides, it wouldn't work—”

Gojo continued to pout.

“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.” 

Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.

A good number of them had boyfriends already too.

Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.

“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”

Gojo goes quiet. 

Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular. 

It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.

When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie. 

What a crybaby. 

But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.

“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”

You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.

“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”

No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.

“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”

You snap back but you’re blushing.

Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though? 

“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”

Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek. 

You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty. 

He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick. 

“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”

“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”

Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words. 

Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.

You sigh. 

“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”

Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”

You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again. 

Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath. 

Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you. 

Gojo however is back to pouting.

“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”

You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.

“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”

“I’d rather die.”

“A virgin? At this rate you will.”

Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time. 

You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.

“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”

You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”

Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away. 

“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”

Staring at him skeptically you considered.

I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.

Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth! 

You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?

God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down! 

“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”

“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”

You stiffen.

Fuck, he’d heard that after all. 

“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”

The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really. 

However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin. 

Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour. 

Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand. 

In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.

“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…” 

Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails. 

“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”

Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.

“You wish…” 

You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret. 

He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!

“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”

Gojo just blinks at you. 

Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.

“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”

You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.  

After about a minute more he finally asks—

“—Does Suguru know?”

A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless. 

“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”

“Just figured if anyone could then—”

“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”

Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock. 

You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.

Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.

“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”

You’re blushing more than ever this time.

“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”

Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other. 

“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”

In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.

“Huh–wait—Toru!?”

Gojo groans.

“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—

“—Birkin bag.” 

You corrected him.

“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh?  PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”

You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.

But then again sure, fuck it, why not?

You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him. 

None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.  

“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”

“FUCK YEAH!”

“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”

Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.

“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go’on!”

Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now. 

You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.

 “First—like you said, just the tip.”

Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.

“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”

He chided himself and you continued.

“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”

Gojo waves you off with that rule. 

“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”

Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair. 

Still. 

“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”

“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”

Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.

“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”

Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.

“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”

Gojo swallowed. 

Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.

“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”

Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly. 

You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.

“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.” 

Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.

Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo. 

You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you. 

You swallow.

You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.

You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.

Gojo was fucking huge!

“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”

Third leg was a massive understatement. 

I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this. 

He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!

Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half. 

Heh. 

“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”

Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous. 

You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!

It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.

Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down). 

“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”

His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness. 

Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.

“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”

The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him. 

The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time. 

Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric. 

Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog. 

“T-Toru!!!!”

Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is. 

If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud. 

Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.

“TORU!!!”

You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back. 

But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.

“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”

Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you. 

This was too much!

“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!” 

You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.

“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”

“Shut up n’just get on with it!”

“Yes ma’am~~”

Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. 

Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.

Fucking slutty as hell!  

Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures. 

This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination. 

God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.

You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.

Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.

“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”

Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too. 

So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.” 

Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.

Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.

“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”

“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”

You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.

You didn’t know what you were scared of this time? 

You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different. 

This felt entirely different.

You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.

“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”

Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths. 

Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.

“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”

Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss. 

Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse. 

You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to. 

The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm. 

But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?  

Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right? 

Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.

There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.

“OH SHI—”

You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions. 

You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.

But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close. 

Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you. 

“C’mere, Toru…”

You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary. 

Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.

“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”

A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well. 

Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.

“FUUUUUHHHH—”

Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features. 

Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.

God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists. 

Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.

To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot. 

Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least. 

His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.

Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much. 

“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!” 

Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you. 

Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.

“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”

Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else. 

Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you. 

Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes. 

He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.

You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum. 

Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum. 

Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face. 

Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer. 

Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.

However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.

SHIIIIIT! He s’big! 

Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time. 

You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.

Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you. 

It's Shoko!

Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours. 

Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable. 

“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”

Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.

“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”

Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.

Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt. 

“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”

Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed. 

Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him. 

While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood. 

Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation? 

Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!

Hmmm... 

Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure. 

“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”

He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.

“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”

“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”

Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.

“Toru–”

“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”

“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”

Gojo puts his negotiation face on. 

You wanted to play hardball? Bet.

“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”

Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!

You sighed. 

You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass. 

Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!

Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one. 

“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”

“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”

Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.

Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.

Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.

He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.

“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”

The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it! 

First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do. 

“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”

You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless. 

Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.

Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze. 

He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.

Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head. 

Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.

He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin. 

Good God girl snap out of it! 

You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.

Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?

Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him.

The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling.  Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo’s dick before.

The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!

How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.

“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”

“Y-You okay, Bunny?”

Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.

“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.” 

Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.

Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering. 

“What's wrong, this time?”

“...s’n-nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”

You lied.

Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru. 

Either one was unacceptable in your book.

“Hurry up and cum, Toru!” 

However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.

“I-Its Utahime…”

“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”

“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.” 

Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call. 

“Bunny!”

“Hime!”

You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.

“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”

A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.

“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”

Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.

You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.

But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.

“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”

You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.

“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”

Snitch! 

Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.

“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”

Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused. 

If only they knew.

You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.

“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.” 

The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.

Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—

“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”

A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard. 

The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.

“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…” 

Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.

The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth. 

If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.

“AH–FAHHH—”

“Bunny! What’s happened?!”

You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.

“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”

“Liar!”

Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish. 

Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play? 

You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.

“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”

Gojo’s  palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”

The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard. 

With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.

This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?

You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good. 

Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower. 

“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”

The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he’s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed. 

Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.

God, this was all so shamefully vulgar. 

Did you do this on purpose answering the phone? 

He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.

But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:

It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum. 

Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight. 

You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now. 

Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.

Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.

“Your Bunny, huh?”

Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.

You were his. 

He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.

Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone. 

“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!” 

Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain. 

Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.

If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe. 

Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him.  Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.

Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him. 

Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.

“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”

Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal. 

“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.” 

“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”

“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”

SMACK!

Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.

You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not? 

Did those other dicks really count? 

It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.

“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”

Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it? 

Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat? 

You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?

Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.

“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”

Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.

“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”

Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.

The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore. 

God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.

“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”

You groan.

This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents! 

You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.

“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”

“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!” 

A devious smirk appears. 

Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.

Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.

Your eyes shoot open. 

Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.

“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”

Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses. 

It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.

“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”

Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.

With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit. 

The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.

“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”

You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go. 

“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”

Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.

Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.

Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.

“SHIIIIIIT—”

With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum. 

“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”

He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.

“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”

Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.

Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.

If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round. 

Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.

Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”

“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”

Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.

“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”

The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you. 

“Toru…”

You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.

“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.” 

Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.

“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”

Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.

“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”

Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow. 

“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”

You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.

Urgh, did it have to be this one!?

There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds. 

“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”

The threat causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.

The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?

OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—

—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a  madman.

OH FUCK! …s’good!

You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.

“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.

The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy. 

“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”

Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.

“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”

Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising. 

“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”

It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind. 

Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it. 

Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.

Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly. 

“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”

Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again. 

God help you, you want him. 

You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts.  However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.

There was simply no use in denying it any longer. 

You caved.

Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.

“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”

Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.

“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”

You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.

Something snaps in Gojo.

Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go. 

Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes. 

Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.

And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.

Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart. 

His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.

Gojo himself is beyond gone. 

Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.  

“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”

You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.

“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”

Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him. 

Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.

Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time. 

Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.

“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”

Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.

However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet. 

When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.

Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.  

Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.

“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”

FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?! 

Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it! 

“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”

Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.

“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”

But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried. 

Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them! 

“T-Toru—”

“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”

Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin. 

Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you. 

“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”

Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.

“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”

Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—

HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?

Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.  

“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”

Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.

Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!

Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?

Your Dignity? 

Self-respect? 

The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?

Who knows really…

Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).

You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.

“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”

Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state. 

And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.

“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”

Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’. 

Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.

“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”

You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.

“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”

Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.

You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows. 

Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—

—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.

“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”

Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.

“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”

With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).

eta: serieslist

reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ

[verstappen-cult]

# IN A WORLD OF BOYS, THEY’RE GENTLEMEN | MV1 & CL16

summary: people always like to jump into conclusions and you are the internet’s newest victim, the ‘slut playing with two boys’. little do they know, there’s more to the story.

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc. content warning: kaia gerber as fem!reader, cursing, toxic fans, tiny bit of angst because i like to make them suffer, f1 grid because they need their own warning. inspired in the song slut! by taylor swift.

# INSTAGRAM

Liked by user01, f1wagsnews and 152,840 others

paddockgossip Max Verstappen and a mysterious girl spotted in Monaco this afternoon. This is the second time we’ve seen them in a span of two weeks. We still don’t know who she is, but they seem pretty close. Is Max Verstappen finally taken?

View all 9,738 comments

user01 not paddockgossip calling max’s childhood friend a ‘mysterious girl’ loool

user02 she’s been getting so much attention ever since they started dating

user03 we don’t even know if they’re actually dating

user04 i’m sure i’ve seen her before 🤔

user05 that’s because you have! she was seen with charles leclerc like a month ago but no one talks about it bc they haven’t been seen together after that user06 she’s friends with max AND charles????

user07 is this really max wearing non redbull merch???

user08 the girlfriend effect is real user09 ffs we don’t know if they’re dating

user10 no one’s asking the important question here: who is she?? do we have an instagram, twitter, something????

user11 she’s @/yourusername user12 no way she’s THAT pretty

Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 63,734 others

yourusername tummy hurts don’t talk 2 me

View all 9,738 comments

user13 so this is max’s new girlfriend?

user14 shes one of us.

user15 SHE LIKES MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANA DEL REY? SHE’S JUST LIKE ME FR

user16 and she has stomach issues too. it’s like looking at myself in a mirror

charles_leclerc but i was omw with some goddies, what do i do now?

yourusername tummy don’t hurt anymore 🥺

user17 i didn’t know charles and y/n were that close

user18 girl haven’t you seen the photos? user17 WHAT PHOTOS

maxverstappen1 i won’t say i told you so but i told you so.

yourusername you’re no fun at all

user18 oh to be y/n and have not one but two formula 1 drivers flirting with me in the comments

# TWITTER

# INSTAGRAM

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 135,767 others

yourusername book nerds! 📚 we have some really exciting changes coming for our book club in the next couple of weeks — but in the meantime, i want to share that the incredible @/lauradern will be joining us to talk about “honey, baby, mine”, a collection of conversations between laura and her mom… grab a copy and join us next thursday!

View all 12,658 comments

ana_d_armas This is amazing! 👏👏 can’t wait to join you and know more about this amazing book.

user19 Reading now!

user20 is that-is that really max verstappen?

user21 max verstappen? like as in formula one champion max verstappen? THAT ONE?

user22 what is max doing with her?

user23 do u think he knows about what’s going on with her and charles? think about your gf cheating on your face with your so called ‘friend’ user24 he has to know otherwise that’s pretty sad. user22 think about your gf cheating on you with your friend and having to see that friend every weekend… that’s so fucking awkward!

user25 where is charles? you got tired of him already? 😂

redbullracing You said he was gonna join your book club but all I see is Max napping. Bad. Very bad behavior.

yourusername sorry admin i tried!

user26 i need an explanation, like i would settle for anything at this point i just wanna know what is happening with them

user27 stop freaking out! they’re probably just friends

user28 yeah right nobody believes that

Liked by user29, francisca.cgomes and 254,122 others

paddockgossip New photos of Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N out and about in Barcelona. There are multiple witnesses that saw the couple ‘very cozy, they couldn’t stop touching each other’ inside the restaurant — this comes after the pictures of Y/N with Charles Leclerc kissing on his yatch just a week ago. We don’t know what is happening, who is cheating on who, but we do not support this kind of behavior.

View all 19,767 comments

user29 this is disgusting

user30 what is this chick playing at?

user31 oh shut up you all. you wish you were her.

user32 WHAT IS GOING ON WHY IS NO ONE SAYING SOMETHING ??? user33 probably because this is bullshit

user34 you don’t know anything. is actually so fun seeing you all losing your minds over this.

user35 I NEED ANSWERS

user36 they look good together ngl

francisca.cgomes 😂

user37 kika what does this mean

user38 they’re sick

user39 she’s jumping from one driver to another it wouldn’t surprise me if the next one is lando.

user40 at this point i think she would pretty much crawl into anybody’s bed

user41 she’s just looking for fame

user42 that’s what i’m saying! just look at her followers now, she gained like 100k user43 oh i hate her so much

Liked by user44, wags_news and 534,665 others

paddockgossip Well, well… We really thought we wouldn’t get any more news about the chaotic mess between Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen & Charles Leclerc, so, we were a little surprised to see Charles’ latest instagram story (second slide) where he tagged Y/N! It’s a beautiful picture but then we have Y/N’s story: a conversation between her and Max Verstappen. So, what do you think is happening here?

View all 25,736 comments

user45 OH MY GOD LOVE OF MY LIFE?????

user46 are they-are they soft launching their relationship?

user47 nah it’s mpossible these boys don’t know y/n is playing with them

user48 oh bestie that is so not what’s happening here

user49 I KNEW IT BUT NO ONE BELIEVED ME

user50 what the actual fuck

user51 she’s such a slut

user52 she’s cheating and she doesn’t care. iconic

user53 i’m gonna throw up

user54 they need to get out of there asap

user55 SHES DATING BOTH OF THEM

user56 OH MY FUCKING GOD SHES DATING BOTH OF THEM. SHES DATING LESTAPPEN

Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername you really thought you knew it all, uh?

View all 886,728 comments

maxverstappen1 loves of my life.

liked by author and charles_leclerc

user57 WHAT THE FFFFFFFFFF

charles_leclerc my pretty girl and pretty boy.

liked by author and maxverstappen1

user58 THEY ARE DATING??? THE THREE OF THEM??

carlossainz55 FUCKING FINALLY.

user59 LESTAPPEN IS REAL WTF

lilymhe i love you all so much. 🩷

pierregasly you can finally stop moaning to me about wanting to be public. i was just about to commit murder.

user60 i never thought i would see the day where charles and max would be kissing

user61 not only that but also dating user62 in a poly relationship*

francisca.cgomes my favorite throuple. 💜

user63 this is so NOT what i was expecting

landonorris can you adopt me?

oscarpiastri me too, please.

user64 the fifth pic??? i also wanna kiss both of them pls

redbullracing Can we celebrate now? 🥺

scuderiaferrari My house? 10PM?

alex_albon this is such a surprise to me. i’m shocked.

danielricciardo MY PARENTS. 🤩

user65 look at that last slide 😭 they really were destined to be together.

Comments on this post have been limited.

[kalliyen]

Streamer Luck 🍀

Pairing: Wanderer x GN!Reader

Featuring: Wanderer (Genshin Impact)

Genre: Fluff, Modern AU

Summary: Streamer Wander drabbles lmao enjoy <33

Reader’s Pronouns: They/Them

Warning: wanderer (just brace yourself) bro is actually astronomically down bad, sorry id there’s any spelling or grammar mistakes i am delirious rn

Disclaimer: ⚠️ ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!

i. ‘wym you’re not single and rotting in a basement?’

Wanderer has been playing for hours on end, you could barely keep up with it.

He hasn’t come out of his room for hours and you were starting to get worried about his appetite, and his emotional well being.

Because you were such a good and doting partner, you decided to make Wanderer’s fave dish, and deliver it to his room.

Knocking on his door, he lets out a brief hum, signaling that it was good to come in. Careful not to get to close to the camera, not wanting to reveal yourself to his audience just yet.

Chat noticed the presence of another person in the room, and immediately bombarding Wanderer with questions like “who tf is that???” and “where did they spawn from???”

“Darling you’ve been streaming for 6 hours, take a break and eat first okay? Just call me when you need anything else.” You state, trying to resist giving him a peck on the lips.

Your boyfriend pauses his game, looks at you, then chat, and decides to pull your waist to his level to give you not one peck, but multiple.

Taken aback but not at all surprised from your boyfriend’s sudden show of affection, you lean into the kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.

Chat absolutely EXPLODES when they saw that, but Wanderer did not give two shits, and decided to kiss your hand, while deeply looking into your eyes

“Thanks Honey, I’ll take a break and eat this, thank you so much for looking out for me :)”

“No problem darl, just come out when I call you for dinner okay?” “Yes honey” And with that you leave the room, leaving Wanderer with him and his chat

He scans the messages, multiple times he sees “SO DOWN BAD LMAOO” and “did u kidnap them or something to take are of you”

A little irked at chat, he angrily replies “No I am NOT down bad (he is) and NO I did not kidnap them. They’re my partner. Why is that so hard to believe?”

ii. honey face reveal when?

Ever since you’ve made your existence known to Wanderer’s fan base they’ve been calling you Honey, mostly mocking him about the nickname he has for you. (they do find it cute tho fr)

They tell him to bring you into the stream more, saying that they missed your voice and your sweet personality, honestly they don’t give a fuck about him no more they just wanna see you

Wanderer gets annoyed (again, this man is always mad at his chat somehow), and says that he can’t force you to show yourself to them, which his chat respects.

“Also their sweetness and cuteness is for me only, not my fault that you guys are lonely and don’t have a partner. Imagine that, what a massive L” he says to his chat, and they start arguing with him again. (someone save his fan base)

iii. HONEY REVEALLL !!!!!

Seeing that your boyfriend’s fans really liked you, you decided to tell Wanderer that you’re finally comfortable with sharing your face to the internet, which he was really happy with. Because god he really wanted to show of the love of his life to the world, and smash it in their faces that only he could have you.

You suggest to him that you do a cute little baking stream together as your face reveal, and he couldn’t deny the adorable smile on your face while suggesting it to him, so of course he obliged.

While he was setting up the cameras and you were setting up the ingredients you felt really nervous, thoughts of ‘what if they don’t like me?’ plagued your mind, and Wanderer sensed your uneasy demeanor. He came up to you and gave you a kiss that meant ‘don’t be nervous honey, i’ll always be here for you.’

He turns the stream on and immediately people start to come in, surprised at the change of scenery.

‘Wanderer doesn’t live in his basement confirmed?!?!’ a TTS message read, and he gave the camera a glare

Chat immediately noticed you and started chanting “HONEY!” “OH MY GOD ITS HONEY FINALLY”

You gave a meek wave to the camera, still a bit nervous, but with Wanderer’s hand on your waist you knew you had nothing to worry about.

“Hello everyone,,,,I’m y/n, you probably know me as ‘honey’ and i’m…..wanderer’s partner” you say with small smile on your face, eyes turning into small slits

In conclusion, the stream was a success and chat was absolutely smitten with you.

bonus: iv. Honey takes over the channel 😱

Now that you’ve gotten more comfortable showing yourself on stream, you sometimes played games with Wanderer too, like co-op in this game called Genshin or other games that allowed two person players.

Sometimes, you even started streams yourself whenever you wanted to share something to his audience, or get advice from them when you start a new game.

Wanderer of course sees these streams and he just has the lovey dovey-est smile in the world, you swear you saw his eyes turn into hearts.

Damn, his streamer luck is insane.

[knavesflames]

chat this contains sh DO NYAT read if uncomfy

putting this in ur ask box cos im desperate for it to be written on my knees screaming

genshin girlies tracting their s/os skin where they see scars while u cuddle naked maybe after a sesh or even just skin to skin cuddling and they speak softly telling you you did a good job and everything and even kissing them AUGH HEHEHRHEHEGRGEGRGRGRGRBDJFJSLANHAHA

Hi <3 sorry this took me so long to get to! I have had a whirlwind of health struggles both mental and physical but I am trying to Lock In again. I’m sorry you went through such tough times :( I understand, and I get the struggle, if you get what I’m implying. Stay safe and healthy fr<3

Word count: 867

Content: sh implied in the past but it’s not graphic, just briefly mentioned, talk of scars, fluff

tw utc

Arlecchino has a rule— as blunt as she may be, she isn’t as cruel as the world likes to make her out to be. Judgemental, though she is, she refuses to comment on something that a person cannot change. She deems it basic decency (it is), but even some of the most polite people she knows don’t hesitate before speaking, or, well, looking. Despite the discomfort she knows you experience when people’s eyes wander and dwell on the exact thing you don’t want them to look at, she herself has never done so. Curious, she has to admit she has been, as would most be if they had a girlfriend with such marks littering her skin. Purely out of concern and care does she wish to know the story of what led you to make such decisions. She does not ask. Arlecchino herself has scars from countless hours of training herself to execute ‘Mother’, ones she keeps hidden under the fabric of her pristine white suit. Ones only you have seen, during moments of intimacy when the night is dark and the air in the room is so suffocatingly warm. You know her story, so you don’t ask.

It seems to be a cycle. She sees them, says nothing, and holds back from doing what she’d really like to do for fear of being insensitive or revealing the softness she keeps hidden. The marks are hidden again, and neither of you say a word. In truth, they shouldn’t be the main focus of the conversation and she understands that, but a part of her yearns to know you, and to understand the parts of you that you’ve refused to reveal.

On the days she catches you staring just a little too longingly at That Drawer in the kitchen, or the days where you seem a little more miserable than usual when you glance at your skin, she’s sure to pull you away from the mirror or the kitchen under the guise of needing you to look over some of the plans for the orphanage, or needing to go shopping. She’s so good at doing so, you don’t even notice she’s done it until hours later.

One particular night, after multiple hours of pleasure and mumbled words of affection, she decides to be bold. Hesitantly, her blackened hand reaches to rest on your thigh. The act itself is nothing new, with you, Arlecchino is a very touchy person, always reminding both her and you that you’re hers. Her thumb however, strokes over one particular scar she’s eyed for a while. It’s a feather light touch, testing the waters, and she’s perfectly prepared to lift her hand away should you indicate as such. You do not. You lean into her touch, almost, like you’ve been waiting for her to get comfortable enough to touch them. You become lost in your own thoughts, and you become unaware of how much time passes before her voice cuts through them, as stern as always, but softer than usual.

“Is this recent?” She hums in slight disapproval as her thumb grazes over it, but she says nothing more, which, if you’re honest, you’re grateful for.

“I had a moment,” you mutter in reply, your head buried into her neck. Her perfume still adorns her skin, and you wonder how expensive said perfume must be if it’s been able to last such a long time, and through such strenuous activity. “I realised and I stopped.”

“Good.” A breath, and her voice lowers until it’s barely louder than a murmur. The sincerity is there though, and her lips move against your hair. “I am proud of you. You have done well.”

“I have not done well, it is—“

“You would not have stopped four years ago. Or two, for that matter. Any progress is better than no progress.” Arlecchino’s voice is gentle, yet unwavering. When you go to protest again, she can practically see the words form before your voice can carry them. “Of course I know how often you were doing it. I am no fool. I said nothing because begging someone to stop doing something when they do not wish to stop is a fruitless endeavour and harmful for both parties in the long run. I just wished you would speak to me if you needed.”

You decide to continue letting her trace every scar she finds on your body. She traces random shapes with the tip of her nail (lucky for you, she filed them a while ago. For.. other reasons). In a moment of affection, she traces little hearts over each one, never missing one, and never giving one more care than another. Both of you stay silent, but the words don’t need to be spoken, and any words that did, have already been said. Arlecchino sees no need in making you uncomfortable when she knows you’ll speak if you need.

Speak you do, eventually, and she remains silent as she listens, giving the occasional nod or ‘mm’ to reassure you that she’s listening. She files all of the information away into her mind, and vows to herself she won’t forget a single word. Arlecchino vows she will love you always.

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts

f1!driver!Jason x reporter!Reader

A/N: i know i said that i felt like writing a toxic f1!driver!Jason, but my mind always reverts back to fluff and hurt/comfort. i can’t help it. :( So ENJOY <3 comment if your comfortable, let me know your thoughts, and please check out the art that inspired this fic (F1 Driver, F1 Driver Pt.2 and F1 Driver Pt.3) i’m proud of how everything came together \(^~^)/ ALSO I SEE THOSE OF U WHO SPAM LIKE, REBLOG, OR COMMENT ON ALL MY WRITING (I LOVE ALL OF YOU) it makes me geek out fr

The story will continue! Here is pt. 2 HEHEHE

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, sudden roy harper appearance???,

Word Count: 3.7k

The lights were bright, rapid flashes brightening every angle of Jason’s face as he stood in front of multiple cameras.

His sweat pricking his forehead and running down the sides of his face, shimmering from the light, making him even more attractive as he finally felt the sun on his skin after a race.

His racing helmet clasped in his hand, towel in the other, dabbing at the sides of his neck. His hair perfectly messy from his win.

Fans screaming his name, reporters trying to get his attention. A man finally stopping him in his tracks, shoving a microphone closer to him, surpassing those who were also trying to talk to the star in question.

“Jason, we have seen your name repeatedly throughout racing legacies, what’s the secret to having such a great career?”

Jason continued to walk again, waving at fans, effortlessly pleasing the crowd one look at a time. The reporters and photographers following him like pigeons flocking to food on the ground. Shouting to repeat his name.

After dabbing his towel to his face, he turned back to look at the interviewer. A sparkle in his eyes.

“You’re lookin’ at him. What else do I need?” Jason smugly smiled, briefly making eye contact with the interviewer as he spoke, the interviewer’s face slightly reddening. Giving his classic swoon worthy smirk, fans erupting behind him trying to get a glimpse.

Just another day as one of the world’s best racer.

——

Jason had arrived late, his ball cap worn nicely on his head, his classic Red Bull uniform snug around his fit physique.

Bright lights burned down on him, giving the cameras the best lighting. Jason’s flaws were being watched like a hawk, ready to be shown, but he confidently walked to the microphones.

He let out his signature smile, a quick wink to the nearest interviewer, tapping the microphone in front of him.

Repeated thump thumps echoed through the speakers as he sat down, his management team not far off the stage as he took one of the two seats. The other driver no where in sight, his bright orange hair nonexistent next to Jason. The iconic duo not yet together.

Multiple hands raised, ready to ask Jason any big questions they had been saving for the past twenty minutes until one of the two men decided to join. The press conference should have started once his companion arrived, but journalists weren’t patient people.

“Mr. Todd! How does it feel to add another win to your belt and beat your own record?” A bright young man asked from the crowd, his glasses bouncing off his nose.

Jason laughed, pride taking up the entire room.

“I didn’t know there was any other option.” Jason leaned into the mic, giving a show of his arms crossed, muscles on the table in front of him.

You could practically hear the fans screaming through the camera as you sat a couple rows from the racer. You were surprised his ego didn’t push you off your seat when he arrived.

“Jason! There is talk that your contract is near its end and you are possibly thinking about changing teams, what are your thoughts?” A blonde woman asked two rows in front of you.

“I always think of my fans first, I want to carefully consider everything when I make that decision. Plus, I can’t deny how good I look in black.” Jason teasingly tilted his head.

A quiet scoff left your mouth.

It was now or never, you didn’t know how loud the room was going to get once the second racer arrived.

You raised your hand, standing up to talk face to face to Formula 1’s hottest driver, Jason Todd.

Well…face to face was pushing it, there were other reporters also trying to get their chance with the ever bright star.

But a press conference was a press conference, if you don’t make yourself known, you don’t get to ask any questions.

Once Jason’s focus landed on your standing form, he nodded at you, giving you permission to speak.

Returning the courtesy, you nodded your head.

“Gotham’s greatest has returned.” You smiled, notebook in hand, voice even.

“Please, no need for an introduction.” Jason chuckled, interrupting your sentence as the rest of the crowd laughed with him.

Charmer. You thought.

Patience has always been your virtue, too many people tested you in your line of work, but you could handle someone as spontaneous as Jason Todd.

“Not only do you have the skill, you have the money, and the team to back you up. You are engineered for success.” You explained.

Jason chuckled, charming smile broadening at the compliments.

“You have such a nice way with words.” He relayed through the microphone, projecting his husky voice throughout the room, gaining another laugh from the crowd.

“But your Chief Technical Officer is leaving this season, digging a huge hole in your team. His legacy changed the engineering of your vehicle because he introduced you to your legendary car. Putting you and your other driver, Roy Harper, in a position of possibly seeing your racing careers coming to an end as your CTO retires.”

“You do have a way with words.” Jason repeated, irritation pricking at his skin, but keeping that picture perfect smile for the camera. You smiled again, a tiny bit wider at his strain.

“In other words, your fans are wondering, if your car can’t be at it’s top shape, there’s only so much skill you can perfect before technology surpasses you and you can only see the rear wing of all your opponents.”

Ouch. Jason thought, smiling through your verbal jabs, but none of the amusement reflected in his eyes as he stared at you.

“What did you say your name was?” Jason sat up straighter, his tone lowering. He was used to mindlessly giving eye contact, giving that mind numbing attention that most people on the internet fawned over.

This time it was different, he focused in on the reporter standing not far from his seat, never lowering their eyes from him.

You smiled, slow and calm, basking in causing the change in the flirtatious F1 driver.

Now you had his attention.

“All legacies come to an end, Mr. Todd.” You continued, never answering his question. “Now that your CTO Elainey Usoro is confirmed to leave, will we be able to witness your legacy end in the upcoming season?”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun? Of course my name will continue to be recognized.” Jason scoffed.

“But will it be recognized as the star that lost its fame?” You nudged again.

Jason’s face went neutral, observing you. You stared back, not wavering in your eye contact, a calm diligence.

A tension blanketed the conference room.

Roy threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly manner, leaning against his driving buddy as he also threw a flirtatious smile. His laid back demeanor cut up the tension filling the room, the reporters getting oddly quiet at the sudden back and forth of you and Jason, but saved by the second driver’s arrival.

Roy was as fashionably late as usual, throwing a kiss towards the management team on the side lines. His iconic bright hair covered in a backwards ball cap.

They erupted his name around you, as you stood above the crowd.

Roy waved his hand, playfully mimicking a royal princess addressing his loyal subjects as he kept his arm on Jason.

Despite the noise around you, Jason kept his look at you.

Once Roy was done getting in his crowd pleasing, he spoke.

“Sweetheart, just ‘cause Usoro is leaving doesn’t mean we get cars tossed in from the dump. The position will just be empty until the next season begins. I can promise you we aren’t taking off our uniforms any time soon. I look too good with the words ‘Red Bull’ across my abs.” Roy cheekily grinned, toothpick in between his teeth.

Roy Harper. You thought.

One coquettish athlete was one thing, but two had the potential to test you.

“I hope to see those results, Mr. Harper.” You calmly smiled. You glanced back to Jason. “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Todd.”

You sat back in your chair, your badge displaying your name and company around your neck. The symbol recognizable to Jason, but he had reset to his usual coy responses before he did anything about it.

And the press conference continued as usual, the fans loving Jason, interviewers taken with him. They tried to trip him up like you had, but no one had pricked him as much as you did.

——

The chair you sat in was uncomfortable.

Luxurious restaurants had the weirdest looking furniture, twisted in odd shapes to make it more appealing to the rich.

The mood lighting set low to create a kind of intimacy most fancy restaurants aimed for.

Jason sat across from you, waiting on his dinner for the night.

“Thank you for meeting me today, Mr. Todd. The place you chose is…quaint.” You eyed the indoor waterfall and the huge chandelier.

“You should have ordered something, this place is known for its seafood.” Jason smiled, crossing his arms across his chest.

A much too expensive watch on his wrist, in too expensive clothes, in a too expensive restaurant.

Your outfit was formal, you thought it fit the atmosphere of the restaurant and you were only here for business. The contrast of the two of you looked like a boss and his employee from afar. Awkward and not on the same level of pay.

The salary of Formula 1 drivers would make any person look plain next to them.

“I shouldn’t because we’re here to discuss about you.” You plainly said, posture straight.

Jason stared at you, the shadows on his face chiseling out his features more than usual. Casually leaning into his chair.

“So, tell me, Mr. Todd—“ You formally started.

“Call me Jason.” He leaned his arms on the table, more of his face coming into the light, his wrist watch glistening in the warm light.

He probably has his own personal jeweler that shines his watch everyday. You judged internally, your left eyebrow raising. A nonverbal “really?” unconsciously stemming onto your face.

Jason’s smile growing wider at your reaction.

“Well…Jason,” You awkwardly corrected, face going back to neutral. “Our interaction last week has gained…interest. I’ve been told that your management is interested in us discussing another interview, just the two of us?” You picked up your glass of water, gently sipping.

Jason was weirdly silent, watching intently at your moves and words.

“Tell me about yourself.” You continued, gently laying your cup on the glass table. Placing your notebook next to it and a simple pen. The plain stationary complimenting your equally plain outfit.

“Jason Todd, F1 driver, signed onto Red Bull, haven’t changed since.” Jason’s food arrived. “The podium is practically my home, the stuff everyone knows. You could quickly Google all of that.”

You stayed quiet, mindlessly writing his quotes in your notebook. Not much effort put in your handwriting.

“But no one is interested in that.” Jason took a bite, glancing back at you as you stopped writing.

“Why not?”

“Okay, ‘lil reporter, let’s be real for a second. The reason why the internet wanted us to meet again is because of how we interacted.” Jason continued to eat. “You have no interest in me, despite your line of work.”

You put your pen down. Really listening.

“I may not be interested in your career, but I do have a passion in what I do.” You defended yourself, tone firm.

“I’m familiar with your work.” His nonchalance apparent in the way Jason sat. His voice leveled, none of the familiar coquettish attitude in front of you. The real Jason was sitting there.

“You are?” You stammer in confusion. You hadn’t expect his shift in demeanor or that he knew about you.

“Duh, that’s why I tried asking for your name last week, but someone thought it was cute to ignore me.” Jason sipped on his water.

Your mouth formed into a firm line.

You knew that there had to be another person underneath all the on screen charisma, but you didn’t expect to meet him at this dinner that was set up. Hell, you even expected getting cancelled by all his hardcore fans the next morning after the press conference.

“Look, I wasn’t interested because everyone knows you. You rightfully made a name for yourself and I had chosen another athlete to interview that day, but it was scrapped because the ‘great’ Jason Todd, shining beloved driver, had made a comeback after you had flopped for a short while.” You breathed, catching your breath.

Jason stopped eating, watching you look at the notebook on the table, a single sentence written on the blank page.

“Ouch, lil’ reporter.” Jason looked up from his plate, his eyes sparkling at something interesting he’s heard.

“I wanted to interview a woman changing athletics, but I had to drop everything to meet you at a press conference you were twenty minutes late to. So, yeah, I wasn’t overjoyed to meet you that day. I’m sorry if I was rude, you weren’t the one who rejected my story.” You slightly huffed, the most emotion you’ve shown Jason.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Jason enthusiastically put down his fork. “Finally some honesty, I was questioning whether you were a robot.”

“Huh?” You had expected Jason to be mad.

“Bad things happen, but we were told to put this together. So, forget the sports stats, let’s show them something a lil’ different.” Jason smiled, a genuine smile that didn’t look at you any differently after you vented out your frustrations about him.

“Like what? Get to know the real you?” You flatly said. “Sounds kinda cheesy.”

“I love to talk about myself, so why not?” Jason shrugged his shoulders.

You sighed.

“Okay—okay, let’s start with—“

“No, no, no.” Jason interrupted you. “Not here, hell no.”

“You chose this place, I thought this was what you wanted.” You questioned.

“The company chose this, I don’t like seafood.” Jason replied, blankly staring at you.

“What?!” You nearly yelled, self-consciously looking at the other tables, nodding an apology.

Jason laughed, truly laughed.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asked, smile reaching his eyes.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied, lost in the development.

“Great, we’ll meet for dinner.”

——

You ended up outside of what appeared to be local restaurants, packed inside an outdoor lounge area, surrounded by furnished secan containers locking in the structure.

It was beautiful with the hanging string lights illuminating the seating area.

You looked in awe.

“You’re on time.” Jason’s voice rung on top of your head, behind you.

You turned around, surprised at the sudden silent appearance and the casual clothes he was in, no fancy watch, his clothes looked like normal department store ones, and his hair was messily down.

“Ten minutes late? That’s a new record.” You quipped.

“Ha!” Jason laughed. “I almost didn’t recognize you in casual clothes. You almost looked less robotic.”

Jason leaned down to give you a once over like he was evaluating your outfit.

“Quit it, I’m starving and whatever smell is coming from that side is changing my brain chemistry.”

Jason smiled, following behind as you led yourself by your nose.

“Holy shit.” You took a moment after your first bite.

“Woah, the robot cusses. What a scary lil’ reporter.” Jason teasingly shook his head, taking a bite after his teasing. “Holy fuck.”

“Right?!” You smiled, eyes squinting at your cheeks lifting.

Jason, lost in the food, chewed, taking in all the flavors.

“I could die in this moment and ask the paramedics to pass on my final wish, to thank the owner of the food truck over there.” You sipped your beer.

Jason stopped eating, pausing to look at you.

“What?” You questioned his stare.

“You actually have emotions.” Jason kept his face blank.

“Shut up, I would throw this at you if it didn’t change my taste buds.” You frowned.

Jason laughed. His shoulders shaking from the movement.

You noticed his smile was different. He had actual smile lines on his face, his eyebrows grew softer. It wasn’t the usual look he gave after his races.

“Is this what the incredible Jason Todd does when he isn’t wearing his Red Bull uniform?” You tried to casually prod into his life.

“How smooth,” Jason whistled, catching onto your nosiness. “I came here a lot with my brothers.”

“Wow, Wayne family lore.” You kept your eyes on your food, trying to deter the atmosphere away from the sad tone coming from Jason.

“Not the best history there.” Jason quietly spoke, picking at his food.

“A rich boy with family issues, I would have never guessed.” You smiled at him, playfully punching his shoulder. “I might be a reporter, but I respect boundaries. I don’t like the work of others that invade privacy for selfish reasons, bombard children of celebrities, and other awful reasons. So, trauma dump or not.” You smirked.

“Wow, lil’ reporter is all grown up.” Jason dramatically wiped the corner of his eye, wiping nonexistent tears.

“Never mind, I already know the title of the article.” You flatly said. “Rich, charismatic—“

“Aren’t you a charmer—“

“Pain in the ass, reckless, thorn in my side—“ You continued.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough, I get it.” Jason smiled, despite the harsh words.

You raised your left eyebrow, not fully convinced.

Jason used his thumb to rub your eyebrow back to its normal spot, you closed your eyes, moving your head away from his playful harsh rubs.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.” Jason reassured. “You’ll get my all my issues, the one time I was mugged, the reason why I don’t drink, and all my kinks.”

“What?!” You shrieked, Jason laughing at your reaction.

“I’m kidding, I was never mugged.”

You threw your dirty napkin at Jason.

——

After the fulfilling dinner, you got Jason’s number, set another date for a lunch, and you were happy.

It had been a while since you had time to enjoy a meal, no work blurring into your off time.

You could never admit to Jason that these meals felt like dinners with friends, not work at all.

Jason had suggested that you choose a spot. You decided on ice cream, not a lunch spot or a decent meal to talk over, but he didn’t complain.

You sent a location to him for a spot near the harbor.

You met each other, the weather getting colder after the F1 season was over and the new norm of adding a jacket to your daily clothing.

It felt idiotic to get ice cream in cold weather, but it was too late to change now.

Jason came five minutes late this time.

“You’re getting better!” You yelled between your cold hands. “Almost brought a smile to my face!”

You fought a smile as you saw Jason jog to your waiting spot.

“I couldn’t let my lil’ reporter wait too long in this cold weather.” Jason’s breaths fogged around him as he caught his breath. Teasing your cheeks into a slight blush, but maybe that was the cold weather.

You put your hands back into your pockets, trying to keep any warmth in them.

“Let’s go, before the ice cream melts.” You joked, walking away from Jason.

“Why ice cream?” He questioned, catching up to your side.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Don’t you get those cravings for hot chocolate in summer and ice cream in winter?”

“No, only robots think that.” Jason smiled.

You swung to punch his shoulder. Jason didn’t even bother dodging, taking the hit with the biggest grin on his face.

“I’m glad this isn’t a live interview again because if I wasn’t cancelled for giving attitude to you at the press conference, then your fangirls and boys would berate me after this.” You spoke, ears red.

“They wouldn’t do that. They just love trying to get me in as many love scandals as possible.” Jason rubbed the edge of your ear with his fingers, they felt warm to the touch. “Been a running joke for a while. Last week they thought I was dating a valet guy and previously they thought it was a some lady at the auto shop.”

“Does that explain the edits of you with some taco stand guy?” You smirked.

“Aw, you looked me up.” Jason cooed.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You laughed as you walked into the ice cream parlor. The two of you walking in and a pair of teenagers sat alone in the shop.

“One scoop of strawberry please.” You asked the teen worker, you looked at Jason, silently asking for his order.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Do I get the pleasure of you treating me to ice cream?” He teased.

“Just order.” You told him, feigning frustration.

“Banana split please.” Jason excitedly told the worker.

“Wow, really taking advantage of me.” You pulled out your card.

Jason pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, placing it in the tip jar.

You smiled to yourself.

As you sat with your sweet treats, Jason was devouring the ice cream.

“Y’know, now I get why you get this craving.” Jason scooped another bite in his mouth.

“No more robot talk from now on.” You eyed him.

“Sorry about that. I just wanted you to act like yourself. You look better like that.” Jason mindlessly played with the left over ice cream at the bottom of his plastic tray, a small smile forming on his face. “People getting angry at me turns me on.” Jason smirked, his coquettish personality coming back, but it didn’t annoy you as much as it did before.

You choked on your ice cream, the realization to his words in your eyes. You looked back at the other teenagers in the shop, they were in their own world, not paying attention to you.

“Relax, they don’t care about us.” Jason laughed.

You glanced back at him, weighing the thoughts on your next words.

“I bet my praise would be more effective.” You scooped your last bit of ice cream, finishing it.

Jason’s laughed boomed in front of you. He was smiling like a little kid, it lightened your heart.

“I never know what comes out of that pretty mouth.” He couldn’t stop laughing.

Your ears reddened at his words.

You nervously played with your spoon.

Words. Yes, they were just words. No need to overreact.

“Wanna walk by the harbor? I think I need to walk off all this sugar.” You asked Jason, getting up to throw away your empty cup.

The air outside was freezing, but your ears burned.

[sugrhigh]

ALL YOURS - ( roomie!matt pt 5 )

summary- you and your roommate matt have been sleeping together for a minute now, but neither one of you wants to ask the other what it means. feelings come to fruition one night at a party and the dynamics of your relationship change once again.

warnings- nsfw content ahead people so read at ur own risk, swearing, drug/alcohol use, dom!matt kinda, unprotected sex, it’s straight up smut at the end so fr don’t read it if u don’t want to!

roomie!matt x fem!reader

a/n: THIS IS TECHNICALLY PART 5 OF THE ROOMIE!MATT TEXT SERIES so if you haven’t read those you might be a bit confused. link to the master list is here.

strap in because it’s kinda long so i hope u guys love this final chapter as much as i do <3 inbox is always open xo

@sleepysturnss

rain patters against the windows mercilessly as the tv drones on, interrupted only by booming thunder every few minutes.

its late in the day now, and the cloud coverage makes it extra gloomy, even with interior lights on. not that this bothers you.

storms have always been a source of comfort in your eyes. something about them makes you feel safe, reminds you that the world is far bigger than whatever is worrying you.

“oh, i’ve been meaning to ask if you’re still seeing that guy. what’s his name again?” nick asks from beside you, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he slumps against the couch.

you’ve been sitting like this for hours together, rotting in his living room while it continues to pour outside.

“it’s luke, and no, i’m not talking to him anymore.” you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible.

he looks up at you now, clearly a bit shocked to be hearing this. “please tell me it’s not because of my bitch ass brother.”

you bark out a laugh before you can stop yourself, mostly due to the fact that it’s absolutely because of matt. just not for the reason he thinks.

“as if. it was my decision, don’t worry.”

this is only half true. you did cut the poor guy off, but only because matt had essentially instructed you to do so before you guys had sex for the first time a month ago.

and then you hooked up again. and again. and a couple more times after that. neither of you could stop coming back for more apparently.

none of your friends know yet. as much as you want to be honest with them, you haven’t really talked about the details of this little situation. you’re almost positive matt hasn’t been seeing anyone else, but you also haven’t outright asked.

and there’s no use telling everyone about something that might not even be real.

“what made you do that? was the sex bad? is he an asshole?” nick interrogates further, clicking his phone off so his full attention is on you.

you can’t tell if he’s suspicious or if you’re just genuinely paranoid, but you don’t like this line of questioning either way.

“no he’s fine, he just wasn’t doing it. and his breath always smelled for some reason.” you’re lying through your teeth, but his face morphs into an expression of disgust like he’s buying it.

“ew, major turn off.”

“you’re telling me.”

nick sighs and snuggles further into the cushions, resting his head on your shoulder as he stares at the tv.

“well for what it’s worth, i’m sorry it didn’t work out. but who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone sexy at nathan’s tomorrow.” he says.

“yeah, maybe.” you feed into the hypothetical, even though you know that won’t be happening.

at least not if matt sturniolo has a say in it.

-

your music is playing softly over the speaker as you get ready, perched in front of your vanity like a doll. you’ve just finished your makeup when you hear a singular tap on the door.

“can you hurry it up in here?” matt calls as he pushes it open slightly.

you find it funny that he’s always sure to knock, ever since he walked in on you naked that fateful afternoon. even though you’re literally sleeping together now, he makes it a point to not invade your privacy.

“can’t rush perfection, matthew.” you taunt him as you put your palette and brushes back in their rightful place.

he moves further into your room, walking over to stand behind you. he’s dressed up in jeans and that black muscle tee you love so much, tattoos on display as his hands go to knead your shoulders lightly.

“you do look amazing.” he compliments.

“likewise.” you reply before meeting his searing gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

he increases his pressure slightly, digging his fingers into your neck in a steady pattern. you already know what he’s angling at and he hasn’t even spoken.

“you know, we could just stay home.” matt suggests with a smirk.

“c’mon, we can’t keep ditching our friends. they’re gonna get suspicious at some point.” you shake your head and stand up, because the massage is starting to feel a little too good.

“nobody cared when we left early last time.”

you cross your arms over your chest and turn to give him a pointed look. “because you convinced them that i was sick.”

“so i’ll just tell them a different lie.” he shrugs.

“oh my god, i am going to this party with or without you, so you better make up your mind before the uber gets here.” you say over your shoulder, headed out of your room toward the stairs.

“such a brat.” he grumbles, but you hear him following you regardless.

“only for you.”

two hours later you’re standing in the middle of nathan’s living room, dancing along with the typical crowd. nick and madi are on either side of you, both bopping around drunkenly to the beat.

you’ve had three shitty drinks at this point and your head feels a bit fuzzy. you’re positive your cheeks are flushed, which is actually kind of nice.

matt was with you minutes earlier, but he’s ventured off to get another drink. it’s selfish that you miss him every second he’s not around.

it’s just nice having him by your side. sure, it was kind of casual at first, and you didn’t think it was going to develop so quickly. but now whatever is going on between you means a whole lot more.

you like when he asks you to spend the night in his room, or when he saves the last can of redbull for you so you don’t go to work without caffeine. you like that he’s been replacing the flowers he got you every time they start die, the way he insists on driving you places even if it’s out of his way.

you just like him, and it’s more than casual. at least it is to you, and you can’t imagine that at this point he doesn’t feel the same.

but you don’t want to be the one to try and put a label on it. quite frankly, it scares the shit out of you, and you’re still not drunk enough to keep thinking about it in the middle of this party.

you see chris a few feet away against the wall, beer in his hand as he chats animatedly with nathan. you know he has what you’re looking for, so you shout that you’ll be back and head their direction.

they both smile at you as you approach, almost perfectly in sync.

“what’s up!” chris leans down a bit so you can hear him better.

“do you still have that joint you mentioned earlier?” you ask into his ear.

he nods happily, and nathan shoots you both a questioning glance. by the looks of his sleepy eyes, he’s probably already crossed.

“we’re going to smoke!” you fill him in, motioning toward the front door.

nathan nods and tells you he’ll stay back, so the two of you shuffle your way out of the living room, trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible.

you pass the kitchen, and as your eyes scan the people you spot matt huddled in the corner. he’s talking to a very obviously enthusiastic girl, one that you don’t recognize. your stomach drops at the sight of them, and you hate it.

he doesn’t see you, so you turn your head and keep following behind chris. he’ll stop talking to her soon. he’ll probably even come looking for you instead.

right?

the crowd thins as out by the door, and the two of your step out into the fresh air moments later. the street is relatively quiet, and once the door is shut the noise of the party is muffled. there’s nobody else outside, and you’re grateful.

the other townhouses stare at you as chris crosses the short driveway so he can hide underneath the tree in the yard. you follow his lead, watching as he fishes the lighter and joint out of his front pocket.

“keeping it handy, huh?” you joke.

“you caught me at the right time, i just packed it upstairs.” he smiles before putting it between his lips.

the flame burns the end as he takes a hit, exhaling up toward the sky. you pass it back and forth in silence, both enjoying the momentary break from socialization.

chris clears his throat a minute later, nudging at the grass with his toe absentmindedly. “so, i have a question to ask you.”

he looks over so he can hand the joint back, and your hands shake ever so slightly as you reach out to take it.

“yeah?”

“i think matt is seeing someone. do you know anything about that?” he asks bluntly.

you try to remain calm as you shake your head at him, though it seems impossible. you aren’t prepared for this at all.

“uh, no?”

chris smiles just a little bit, like he’s already got you right where he wants you. “so he doesn’t bring anyone over? it’s just the two of you?”

your narrow your eyes at him. “just ask what you want to ask.”

“are you guys together?”

there it is. you were expecting it this time, and it still makes your stomach flip.

“no. i mean, kind of? we’re not like, dating. we’re just…uh…hooking up.” you’re trying so hard to figure out how to put it that it sounds horrible.

he just laughs. “no you’re not. that kid is in love with you.”

your jaw drops slightly in surprise, and this only makes chris chuckle harder.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you ask him once he finally calms down.

“i’ve seen how he’s acting lately. so fucking goofy, like he’s got his head in the clouds. he only ever gets all dopey like that when he really likes someone, and i kind of suspected it was you.”

it’s hard to find any words. there’s simply nothing on your brain, no coherent thought to be found. chris gives you a playful nudge.

“it’s okay, i won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. but i think you feel the same.” he makes a guess, and he’s very accurate.

you look away as you take your final hit, trying to decide how you want to respond. you exhale the smoke and pass the remainder of the joint back to him.

“okay, you got me. i do want it to be like, a real relationship. and i’ll talk to him about it soon, i promise. just please don’t tell anyone until i do.” you plead.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug. you relax into him, and you have to admit you’re a bit relieved that at least somebody knows now.

“of course not. i’m here to support you both whenever you’re ready. everyone else will be too.”

“thank you. that makes me feel a lot better, seriously.” you say truthfully as he pulls away.

“good.” he nods in satisfaction, giving you a loopy grin.

“i’ve mooched enough, so i’m gonna go back inside, but thanks again. i owe you a blunt for the reality check.” you point a finger at him as you back up off of the grass.

“i’ll never turn that down.”

the high has taken over as you spin around to walk normally, and it’s nearly impossible to stop smiling. having confirmation that you’re not crazy for feeling the way that you do is wonderful.

you head back inside the house, almost positive that you’d find matt hanging out somewhere with your friends.

but as you pass the kitchen again, you spot him in the same place, leaned up against the end of the counter with a solo cup in hand. it seems like the girl is even closer than she was before.

your face falls immediately. it makes you angry that it’s been so long and he still hasn’t told her to get lost yet. if he wants to be all possessive over you, then you shouldn’t have to act so cool for him.

you’re certainly not feeling collected right now. and he deserves to know that.

you wedge your way around the people chatting and pouring themselves drinks without a second thought. matt sees you coming before you actually reach him, and he looks confused by your irritated expression.

you wrap your fingers around his arm wordlessly, right in the middle of the nameless girl’s sentence. he doesn’t put up a fight. in fact, he’s practically hot on your heels as you pull him back toward the hall.

“uh—hey! we were talking bitch!” she shouts after you.

“don’t care.” you don’t even give her the satisfaction of making eye contact.

there’s really no point. matt is trailing behind you like a puppy, and that’s all that matters. he clearly doesn’t want to be there any more than you want him to.

“what’s going on?” he asks as you maneuver around the outside of the crowded living room, making a beeline for the staircase.

it’s taped off to everyone except your group, in case of emergency.

this feels like one, considering you don’t even care if anyone sees you together. you don’t respond, you just let go of his hand and step over the thin barrier, glancing behind you to see if he’ll follow.

there’s a curious look in his eye, but he does the same.

you continue up the stairs, making sure he has the perfect view of your ass as you go. you can literally feel him staring, which only stokes the fire.

“are you taunting me right now?” matt asks as you reach the second floor.

this makes you pause, and you turn around so you can wrap your hand in his shirt. you yank him into the bathroom, slapping the light switch on with your free hand.

you close the door behind you, which suppresses the booming sound of nathan’s music playing through the speakers.

“what the hell is this?” you uncurl your fist and shove his chest to put some space between you.

his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he regains his balance and sets his cup down on the counter. you realize you probably spilled some of it by dragging him around, but that’s not your main focus right now.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you dare play dumb. you can’t stand it when anyone else even breathes near me, so why would you think that i would be okay watching you flirt with some random girl for fifteen minutes? you either want me or you fucking don’t, matt.” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

it’s shocking that you’re being this honest with him, but you’re faded and you’ve been pushed beyond your limit.

no use tip-toeing around it now.

“you think just because she came up to me that somehow means i don’t want you?” he asks, and there’s more of an edge to his tone now.

“how am i supposed to know? we haven’t talked about it, whatever this is.” you wave your hand back and forth between the two of you.

a look of understanding passes over his face. “oh, this is about labels, huh?”

this infuriates you more, because that’s not even the point you’re trying to make. he’s aggravatingly calm right now, like he’s so sure of himself.

“look, if you don’t want to be in a real relationship with me, then fine. i don’t care. but i’m not gonna keep exclusively sleeping with just you if that’s the case.”

matt is silent for a moment, eyes darting across your face. you can see him gazing at your lips, and it drives you crazy.

he takes one step forward, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. even though your height different is relatively small, it still feels like he’s towering above you.

“are you really trying to tell me you wouldn’t care at all if i wanted to see other people?” he asks quietly.

his face is so close, and you breathe in his familiar smoky cologne. it’s dizzying, being this overwhelmingly attracted to someone.

“of course i’d be upset, but there’s not much i can do about it if you don’t feel the same.” your voice is hushed now too, and you wish you didn’t sound so weak.

matt cups your chin gently with one hand, forcing you to keep your focus on him. your heart is slamming against your ribcage now, begging for some kind of relief.

“i want to be with you so bad that it kills me.” he finally admits.

it’s your turn to be stunned, and you stay completely still as his thumb grazes over your bottom lip slowly.

“i had this whole thing planned, i was going to take you to a fancy little restaurant and ask you out like a gentleman. but you just couldn’t wait, could you?” his voice is husky, pupils blown out in lust.

“i…really?” you ask breathlessly.

“really. so what do you think? you wanna be mine?” he goads with a smirk, gripping your face a bit tighter.

it’s normally hard to swallow your pride, especially with matt, but you’re so vulnerable in this moment you can’t tell him anything besides the truth.

“i do.”

“good, because you already are.” he growls before closing the gap between you, lips crashing against yours.

he tastes sweet, like the soda he’s been mixing with vodka all night. it’s a pleasant mess of teeth and tongue as you deepen the kiss, passionate in a way that you’ve never experienced with him before.

his hands travel down to grab at your hips, pressing against you so your lower back bumps against the sink. you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling enough to elicit a groan.

it vibrates against your mouth, and you feel yourself throb just from that little noise alone. he’s normally not very vocal, but you bring it out of him.

matt’s hands slide up your body, finding their way under the hem of your sheer lace top. his cold rings press against your stomach as he slowly inches higher, leaving goosebumps in their wake. you let go of him, throwing your hands upwards so he can peel the shirt over your head.

“so fucking pretty, just for me.” matt praises as he tucks your hair behind your ear, attaching his lips to your neck seconds later.

you tilt your head back to give him a better angle, sighing in pleasure as he nips at the soft skin. one hand is feeling up your chest as his teeth dig into your collar, tongue sliding over the marks he’s leaving in an attempt to soothe the irritated areas.

you move your own fingers down between both of your bodies, ghosting them over the crotch of his jeans, palming him just a bit. his dick is already straining against your hand, and he hisses a string of curses into your shoulder.

“no more teasing tonight, i need you now.” he grumbles, already out of breath as his hands travel to undo the button of your pants.

you take the lead and slide them down yourself, tearing your thin panties off with them because you want him just as much. it doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one exposed, so you tug his muscle tee upwards in desperation.

matt doesn’t protest, he just tosses it to the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. you let your fingers rake over his skin, down his abdomen and over his happy trail until your fingers meet the waistline of his jeans.

you glance up at him through your lashes as you unbuckle his belt, entirely naked now, and he swears he could finish just by looking at you.

the sensation of your hands skimming against his thighs as you drag his jeans and boxers to his ankles makes him twitch. nobody has ever turned him on the way you do, and it’s frightening how good you make him feel.

but you always enjoy everything just as much, because he’s the best dick you’ve ever had. perfect length, enough girth to stretch you out, and he knows exactly how to move to your liking. matt even keeps it trimmed nicely.

the tip glistens with precum, and you pull your hair back with one hand like you’re getting ready to put it in your mouth.

“no, stand back up baby.” he instructs, and the commanding note in his voice makes you push yourself off your knees, extending to your full height.

matt turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, one hand on your side and the other on your back as he forces you to bend at the waist. your forearms press flat against the cool marble counter, and the assertiveness of it all sends a jolt of excitement right to your core.

his palm comes down on the curve of your ass without warning, just hard enough to sting. you let out a whimper, arching your back more as you gaze at him through the reflection.

he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, smoothing his hand over the place he just hit. his eyes are so dark, so full of desire that it just solidifies the way you feel about him.

“you like that? you want me to be rough?” matt leans over you, cock pressed against you as he speaks into your ear.

“please.” you whine, shifting your hips to try and feel more of him, to feel anything.

he stops your movements immediately and smacks your ass again, this time on the opposite side. it makes you groan in delight, almost involuntarily.

“you’re gonna look at yourself while i fuck you, got it princess?” he says, backing up just a bit so he can take his dick into his own hand and pump a few times.

you nod as you feel him line himself up at your entrance, and you know that at this angle you’re perfectly on display for him.

he pushes himself inside of you in one fluid motion, and you gasp as his fingers squeeze your hip. matt doesn’t give you time to adjust to him like normal. instead he immediately starts to pick up speed, wrapping your hair in his free hand so you can’t look anywhere else besides in front of you.

your lips are parted as you moan, eyes fluttering at the stimulation. you can hear matt grunting behind you, a deliciously dirty sound.

“look at how pretty you are, taking me so well. all fucking mine.” he marvels, rocking your body against him even harder.

skin slaps together, and his pace is making your legs tremble. you can feel the party raging on underneath you, and it’s strangely even hotter in this setting.

“shit, you fill me up so good matt.” you tell him, catching his eyes for a second before he throws his head back.

“fuck.”

he’s hitting it so well, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with every stroke. it’s turning him into an even bigger mess.

“god, if you keep that up i’m not gonna last much longer.” he warns, bucking his hips into you at a slightly different angle.

you cry out at the new sensation, a guttural noise that you didn’t even know you could make.

“i’m so close, right there babe.”

matt listens perfectly, using the hand on your waist to guide you so that you bounce against his thighs in the same spot. you’re a whining mess, and you can’t keep looking in the mirror.

you feel the tears as your eyes screw shut. the fire in your stomach is growing, spreading throughout your whole body. he tugs your roots a little bit more.

“come all over my dick, pretty girl. it’s all yours.”

his words are what send you over the edge, and your body shudders as you feel yourself giving in to the high, releasing all over him.

“fuck, matt, stay inside.” you pant, and he groans loudly.

two more sloppy strokes and you feel him tense, filling you up as he finishes. matt lets go of your hair, dragging his fingers along your shoulders, you back. you look so fucked out, makeup smudged slightly under your eyes, and you both love it.

he pulls out slowly, giving you one last tiny pat on your ass.

you’ve both got stars in your eyes as you stand, and you can feel the wetness pool against your thighs. thank god you’re on birth control. this was a special occasion anyways.

you turn, and matt immediately pulls you in for a kiss. you smile slightly, because you can’t help it.

“come on, i need to get cleaned up.” you pull away slightly.

“fine.” he sighs, but he lets you go regardless.

you wipe yourself off with some toilet paper quickly and flush it while he redresses. you two have been missing for minute now.

you guess it doesn’t really matter. sure, you should probably be discrete about having sex around your friends. but you’re also together. officially.

“so, does this mean i can tell the other girls in your dms to fuck off?” you joke as you put your underwear back on, shimmying into your jeans next.

“you can honestly tell them whatever you want.” matt runs a hand through his hair, smiling at you like a fucking goofball.

you’re just situating your shirt into place when the door comes swinging open, revealing a very drunk nathan. you and matt freeze, completely unsure what to do.

his eyes go wide as he realizes what’s going on, mouth hanging open like he can’t believe it.

“woah. no fucking way”

[vxsellie]

⌗ GOING PUBLIC ! ꒰ smau masterlist ꒱

synopsis. following the (shockingly successful) release of your band’s very first album, you somehow managed to completely forget about the importance in privacy. a drunken mistake it was to have made out with a rivaling band member. that’s all it was, a mistake. but, of course, the world deems it otherwise — hypothesizing about your guys’ deep rooted relationship. your fans come together, begging and pleading for more content with the two vocalists. in the end, they get what they want.

notes. here’s my attempt at making a more serious smau (my other one is atrocious & i’m lowk embarrassed at how many likes it managed to get. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE GUYS). anyway! here we are! hope u enjoy! also, as this smau remains in the planning stage, the chapter summaries are subject to change and altercations !!!

warnings. alcohol consumption, sexual jokes, strong use of language, horrible grammar, probably lots of plot holes let’s be fr

𝜗𝜚 ┆ prologue ﹕flawd v. YIKES

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap i ﹕after your band releases your first album & it absolutely blows up, you think that you all deserve a little celebration. however, after taking an innocent trip to your local bar, chaos ensues.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap ii ﹕whilst at the bar, your friends lose sight of you. that is, until you're found outside the bar making out with a certain auburnette. however, the issue isn't what you're doing, it's everyone else who saw you doing it.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap iii ﹕in a desperate attempt to salvage the few scraps of dignity that you have left, you decide the best course of action is to now message ellie.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap iv ﹕as it turns out, ellie williams is a rather difficult woman ro reach due to her overprotective manager. this poses as an issue for you and nothing more of a nuisance to her.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap v  ﹕when you're put on the spot during an interview, asked to explain your relationship with ellie, of course, you end up blurting out the first answer that comes to mind. bad idea, apparently.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap vi  ﹕after one short conversation, you and ellie collectively decide you hate one another. in hopes of fixing this absolute disaster, your respective managers begin plotting a solution.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap vii  ﹕joel and wilson's plan is put into action, you and ellie both completely unsuspecting of their schemes as they invite you to hang out. separately, of course.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap viii ﹕as the plan unravels, the two of you forced into proximity, you decide the best thing to do from here is to simply feed into the rumors by pretending to be on a date. ellie does so by posting you, causing an uprise in support for your relationship.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap ix  ﹕ellie explains to jesse & dina the plans that you and she had concocted during your newly famed date.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap x ﹕at the news of your and ellie's "date", your friends end up having differing opinions. regardless of how they feel, however, your guys plan is still being following through with.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap xi  ﹕you and ellie further discuss the plans to meet up, ellie hypothesizing a bit over your friends recent change in behavior.

𝜗𝜚 ┆ chap xii  ﹕while hiding in the bathroom to get away from ellie's proximity, you tell your friends about what the two of you discussed the previous day. and, honestly, you can kind of see the truth behind her words the more you think on it.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 12 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary: Life was good. No, life was great. Was. Until. Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture. You welcomed him into your life—your home. Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; tension; recollected memories of traumatic situations; crying + feelings of sadness; self deprecation/worries of being a bad mother; mentions of a (very) toxic and absent mother; use of heart monitors; vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; jealous!reader; baby name reveal (!!!!); pregnancy hormones of multiple variety; reader is emotional and stubborn; talks of cheating/wanting to cheat on (obnoxious) partner; EMDR; joshy coming in clutch fr (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 12 (Part 1) Word Count: 43.8k+ (yes, i know it's fking ridiculous atp 🥲 -- honestly, i blame the characters. they have a mind of their own + I simply can't control them)

a/n: I have to say...... chapter 12 is very easily my favorite chap so far..... let's see if you'll agree with me ;) see you in a few days with pt 2 <3

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

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

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

Covet Masterlist

". . .how do we begin to covet? We begin by coveting what we see every day." Thomas Harris

Theo had already left before you awoke at 8 am. 

And you were sure he’d left completely dissatisfied and grumpy. It was how he’d fallen asleep, at least. The night before, you’d completely blue-balled him. 

On top of not wanting to do anything due to tiredness, you especially didn’t feel like doing anything after your talk with Jake. Entering your bedroom to curl into a ball under the covers was immediately all you’d wanted after that conversation.

You could talk a big game and convince yourself halfheartedly of what you said, but at the end of the day. . . You knew who your heart wanted. Who it would always want — whether you allowed it or not. 

But, you’d entered your bedroom to find a smirking, sure-of-himself jock. No wallowing in bed alone. The man’s presence had aggravated you and he’d only pissed you off further with his attitude as soon as you’d entered the room.

Whenever you’d finally made it into the bedroom after your time with Jake, along with the smirk, Theo had placed his hands behind his head with a cocky brow raised. Leaning against your pillows. And, with zero remorse, you’d informed him that you were too tired for anything else and wanted to sleep. 

He’d pouted, outright. Like a child. And he’d tried a few moves to get you in the mood. . .

But, after about five attempts and rejections, he’d stopped. And, even though you’d hated that he was in your bed, you’d actually found sleep pretty easily. 

So, yes, you totally celebrated internally at him being gone. This morning was a new day, and you woke feeling well-rested and ready for the day.

And, along with Theo being gone already, the sun was shining when you woke up. There was potential for the day to be a great one. You didn’t even want to curl up in a ball to sulk and cry anymore. You couldn’t want that as the sun shone over your features.

It had also helped to open your phone screen to see a multitude of texts from Josh. Ten texts, to be exact.

Josh, 6:34 a.m.: We just left… Dragging Sam’s hungover ass through the door this morning was a TRIP.

Josh, 6:34 a.m.: Thank you for hosting our fuckin’ asses, my love. 

Josh, 6:35 a.m.: Oh! And I am SO very sorry for putting all of that on you on the day of such an important appointment. Felt REALLY fucking bad when I actually thought of that this morning.

Josh, 6:36 a.m.: Didn’t even fully wrap my mind around that shit until this morning when I saw the old sonogram magnetized to the fridge. I was in Big-Brother-to-Sam-Mode™️ last night. My brain was only halfway functioning.

Josh, 6:38 a.m.: ANYWAYS…… as repayment for your ever-devoted heart dealing with our antics, Daniel and I decided to clean up the place. I even vacuumed !!!!! 

Josh, 6:39 a.m.: The very LEAST we could do… Buuuut I actually have another way I would love to help you deal with any leftover tension…… 

Josh 6:39 a.m.: Yoga, mayhaps? Today? I heard from a little birdie that it’s great for pregnant women. 

Josh, 6:40 a.m.: Sooooo, if you wake up in time (and WANT to go), it starts at 10:30 this morning. 🧘‍♂️ I will gladly pick you up. 

Josh, 6:41 a.m.: ……Or drive to you and we can drive the Jetta. I would rather not add any more stress to your life by making you fear for your life in my beloved old lady. 🚗💨💥

Josh, 6:45 a.m.: Just let me know. I love you an  e x p o n e n t i a l  amount and would love some time with you. Just you and me. No drunken morons.

So, you sent a very sincere and appreciative text back. 

You, 8:03 a.m.: Josh. It’s fine. ❤️ I thought of the appointment thing, too. But at the end of it all, I’m just glad Sam feels like this is a safe place. I just want him to be better. I love him and I love you and I love Danny. Always. 😘Thank you so incredibly much for cleaning, too… You know how much that matters to me and I appreciate it very, very much. Tell Daniel, too.

After sending that text, you sat up and stretched with a giant yawn before answering about yoga. It did sound like a good relief for your tension, at least. . . and it was getting to the point where the baby made it sort of difficult to get comfortable. Maybe yoga would help you readjust a little. . .

You, 8:05 a.m.: YES to yoga. That sounds amazing. And YES to the Jetta….. please. Lol How much does it cost? And where?

Considering you still had a while until Josh would show up to get you, you went ahead and decided on a bath to start the day. It sounded like a refreshing, relaxing start to your day and you felt that it was very much needed after the whirlwind that last night had been.

It was going to be a good day. 

You’d just sat down at the bar with a bowl of cereal, fully refreshed from a bath. And, just as you’d responded to a TikTok Elsie sent, you heard a familiar tired groan from behind you. 

When you looked over your shoulder to see Jake rubbing his eyes, you momentarily caught his eye, a little grin fitting to his features and a nod of his head in your direction. And, just as the small action had your tummy doing somersaults, the bathroom door shut behind him.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you finished another text to Elsie before leaving your cereal for a second to check on something. . . 

You discreetly tiptoed to his room to satisfy your wondering thoughts. . . And you saw no Maya in his bed. No clothes strewn on the floor. Nothing indicating she had been there at all, in fact. (Even though you knew she had been.)

All you saw was a made bed and the blinds open to let in the morning sun. Hm. Interesting.

Now that you knew you didn’t have to sneak, you walked with a little skip in your step back to the bar. With the lack of an extra woman in the apartment, there were less nerves curling your tummy. So, you took a very satisfying bite of your Fruity Pebbles and even hummed a little as you opened TikTok to mindlessly scroll. 

The happenings from last night were lingering in your mind, but you were truly ready to declare today a new day of sorts. You were tired of feeling pessimistic and down. You had seriously decided on joy for the baby, after being all sad and weepy in the bathroom.

You and Jake – you two were a work in progress. You wanted him. He acted like he wanted you. But, you could both work to prevent that. Neither of you needed the unnecessary stress of acting on things irrationally. The dynamic didn’t need to be destroyed. All it would do is cause stress. You could get past it. Really. Truly. You could. For your baby girl. For each other.

And as much as it sucked that you weren’t together, you knew it was for the best. And, no matter what, you were in this together. You knew that – wanted to keep it that way. If you didn’t act on anything, there was nothing stupid you guys could do together that might ruin the dynamic for the baby. She needed stability.

As you glanced through the kitchen window, you saw the lavender put nicely into its old terra-cotta. The sight made your heart crack a little, while also making it feel fuller than it had in a while. It made you think of times past with a natural, melancholy longing. But. . . it also made you think, once again, of your current reality. The here and now – which, like that day he’d first brought you the plant, could be a fresh start. 

Minutes after you’d made it back to your stool, Jake came out of the bathroom. And your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. Freshly showered. Nothing but that particular pair of pajama pants slung across his hips. You noted how refreshed he looked. His chestnut locks, hanging long against his back and shoulders, droplets marking his tanned skin. 

Well. 

He wasn’t looking up to see you, not yet. His eyes were watching his feet, brows drawn in as he walked towards you and the kitchen. He appeared to be playing what looked like an air guitar. Except, this air guitar truly mimicked that of an actual guitar, and you knew if he was holding his actual instrument, you’d hear a beautiful melody coming from him. You wondered if it was a new song or one you’d heard already. You also wondered how long you could get away with watching his biceps flex with each intentional movement on the imaginary guitar. 

Before you could think on it any longer, you decided it best to not let your eyes linger on his muscles. But, it was too late. When you looked up, you realized he’d found your eyes watching him. His own expression, brightened and a wide smile fitting to his closed lips. You matched his expression, your heart thrumming in your chest.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted as he walked past you and into the kitchen, his delicious cologne caused your brain waves to falter.

You watched him at the coffee maker as he placed a mug on the base of it and popped in a K-Cup with a yawn before leaning back against the counter nearest the coffee maker. How did he manage to make such a basic task look so damn good?

No, y/n. You didn’t need to think that way. Fresh start. Stability. . . . . As long as you kept your eyes away from his half-naked form. You didn’t dare look below the waistband of his pants – you knew better. 

“Morning,” you rang back with a little grin, glancing at him briefly before finishing a new text to Elsie. To stay distracted, you went to your Ovia app to refresh on your baby’s week. You did it everyday, anyway. And you loved it that way. “She’s moving her face,” you said aloud, sort of to yourself. But you were also hoping to catch his attention.

“Hm?” Jake questioned, still across the kitchen from you. 

Lifting your head up, you caught his wondering expression, brows raised as he crossed arms at his broad, defined chest. Then, his feet crossed at the ankles.  “Our girl,” you grinned, pointing a single finger at your tummy. “She’s yawning, hiccuping, and swallowing.”

His eyes shot open, a little less sleepy than before and suddenly very interested. “That’s incredible,” he smiled, pride overtaking his features. “Is that on an app or something?”

“Yeah,” you replied, looking back down at the screen. Scrolling, you saw a few more things he might find interesting. “Wanna come look with me?”

He didn’t use words to answer. Instead, he just continued to grin and began walking, all purposeful and sexy, over to you. Oh, and half naked, because why not? When he was beside you, your breath caught in your throat at how good he smelled. His newer cologne still held hints of a musky sandalwood and vanilla. And the faint scent left over from his Tom Ford aftershave had goosebumps teasing at your skin. And his bare chest was so close to your back as he stood behind you, you felt the heat coming off of him. 

But, you ignored it all for the sake of showing him what was going on inside of you. Wanted to keep him up to date. He placed his arm on the back of the bar stool, across the wooden back of the chair. This technically meant his arm was around you and you were not going to complain about it. 

You held your phone up for him to read, balancing your elbow against the counter to avoid too much shakiness. And you heard him reading through it quickly, under his breath and to himself. He’d reach out occasionally to scroll down, making you lean towards the screen with your own curiosity at what he was reading. It seemed he wanted to read everything this week’s updates had to offer – including what was new for your body, not just the baby’s. 

“Wow,” was all he breathed once he finished and backed away to walk back to the coffee maker. You realized you’d been holding your breath as he went back to his original task. “I really like that app. What’s it called?”

“Um—Ovia,” you blinked, shaking your head once and resituating your body in your chair while his back was still turned. Your lungs deflated and your mouth opened just the slightest for a few extra breaths. “It’s called Ovia Pregnancy. It has a bunch of cool features. You just put the conception date in and it will give you updates.” And, knowing it off the top of your head, you went ahead and told him. “And that was Aug—.”

“August 26th,” he finished for you. 

Oh. He remembered the date? “How do you remember that?”

“Just do.”

Your cheeks heated at the fact that he could recall a detail like that. . . You found it very intriguing. Did that mean he regularly thought of the night? If he remembered the exact date?

Stop it, y/n. No need working yourself up over that, your inner voice chided you. You are just friends — just roll with it. It’s not a big deal.

He slipped his mug from the machine, blowing on it before he spoke again. “And you still can’t feel it when she punches and kicks?”

“Not yet,” you chirped, going to look at the other features on the app that told you about her at this point. “But soon I will, I guess. According to the app and Dr. Rose. So. . . Yeah. I’m really excited for that.”

You went to take a bite of your fruity cereal at the same time he lifted his cup to his mouth. And right before you could bring the pebbles to your lips, you looked up to catch a glimpse of him. Wrong idea. Because he was taking a sip of his coffee. And while that shouldn’t get you hot and bothered, it did. Oh, sweet and lovely baby hormones. 

But—fuck. The way his mouth wrapped so beautifully around the lip of the mug. . . His eyes, closing at the sensation of the warm liquid touching his tongue. You envied the coffee that got to melt against his tongue. The mug, that got to feel the shape of his lips. . . At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to be Jake’s cup of coffee. Your gaze found the way his tongue slipped past his lips to lick away any remaining wetness. . . As if in slow motion, too. Damn. 

“Y/n?” 

Shit. He was talking to you. Embarrassingly, you felt your mouth hanging open, your cereal once again balanced above your bowl so as not to spill. At least you’d had a little bit of common sense in your daze. Words, y/n. Words. “Y-yeah?” You stuttered. Again, embarrassing yourself. What was a good excuse for your actions? “Sorry. . . Still sleepy, I guess.”

His grin told you that he’d caught you blatantly staring at him, but his eyes were gentle in assuring you that he’d keep your secret. Too bad the only person you didn’t want in on your secret was him. Once more, he tried to bring up what he’d said while you’d been absent. “Would that work for you?”

“Jake, I’m so sorry,” you shook your head, scratching your brow with an awkward giggle. Your eyes couldn’t stay in one place for long. It was devastating how enraptured you were with him — this morning was killing you. Tan skin. Wet hair. Water droplets. Tongue. Licking. Lips. Eyes. Secret smiles. Sandalwood, Tom Ford, and vanilla. . . 

No, y/n. Be wise. Don’t let him get in your head.

Looking down, you tried your best to regulate the heat in your cheeks. You texted Elsie back quickly to reset your busy mind. Shaking your head, you tried to address him once more. You watched your bowl, though, rather than him. Balanced the spoon on the rim, watching the milk slosh against the silverware with the bits of rainbow cereal left. 

“You’re going to have to ask me the entire thing again. I’m just kind of out of it this morning,” you meekly explained.

Finally, you chanced looking at him. His eyebrows were raised, his eyes holding the same humor that was expressed in his smile. He seemed to be properly charmed. He wasn’t mocking you by any means. No, he actually seemed extremely content in the fact that you’d been ogling him. You had no idea how he could be so content with it. You were being weird. How was he not judging you?

“I was just saying I’d love to take you on a walk soon,” he replied, with a grin that made your tummy flutter. “I’ve heard it’s good for pregnant women to stay active — just to keep you healthy and all that. . . and it’s also good for people with heart problems.”

You felt all warm inside that he had even thought to do something like that with you. “Sounds like a win-win,” you enthused, feeling incredibly special. 

Quit it, y/n. Don’t make it more than it has to be, your inner humility coach counseled you. Remember everything you told him last night. You have to stop.

So, you tried to push all of the extra feelings flowing through your mind to the back of it. He was being a good friend. A really hot, good friend — but friend nonetheless. The walks would make for a good time for you two to work on a friendship. For your baby.

“When are you free?” He asked you, bringing your sights fully back to him.

“Um,” you blinked, unlocking your phone to see what your calendar looked like.

It was funny — you didn’t have a damned thing going on in your life. You knew your schedule (or lack thereof). It consisted of next-to-nothing. But you were trying to create some sort of avenue of escape for yourself from the eyes that continued gazing your way from across the kitchen. The lingering stare you felt kept your cheeks warm. Your heart was thumping something crazy.

Get over it, y/n. He’s just being nice. That’s all. 

And, with that in mind, you stopped pretending to look at your calendar. You locked your phone and caught his gaze once more. “I could do Wednesday?”

“Sweet. Wednesday is actually my one free day this week,” he lopsidedly smiled with a little chuckle. Giving a satisfied nod, he took another sip from his mug. For a minute or so, you sat in a comfortable silence with him as you replied to yet another text from your sister. “What are you doing with the rest of your day today?”

“Yoga with your twin. Probably going to hang with him for a while,” you mused, a giggle flowing from your lips. “He wants to repay me with some time of relaxation after bombarding the house with a drunken Sam last night.”

You felt the rest of last night as a giant elephant in the room. You were hoping he wasn’t, but you were sure his brain lingered on it, too. There was no way it wasn’t on his mind. Right?

It didn’t matter — because no matter what, you were not going to bring any of it up. Not if things needed to change. No more touching. No more almosts. Just friends.

“Damn right. Drunk Sam is a lot to handle,” he laughed after a lagging moment. His beautiful white teeth were on full display as he laughed, which settled your anxious thoughts. “Yoga is good for pregnant women, too.”

“You’ve really been doing your reading, huh?”

“Well,” he paused, finishing off his coffee before rinsing and washing the mug in the sink. “Just like my daughter, you matter a fucking lot to me, so. . . yes.”

Your cheeks were on fire at this point, your heart racing. You couldn’t hide your little grin without taking a final bite of your cereal. “Thanks for caring,” you told him after swallowing, your throat, thick with emotion made it a little hard to swallow.

You weren’t sure what else you could say that didn’t involve you walking up to him and giving him a long hug and a kiss right on his pretty lips. You decided to throw in a witty comment, just for kicks. “I’m very lucky that I matter to you like I’m your child.”

He cackled outright at that, even harder than he had at the mention of drunk Sam. His dimples pierced his skin, the apples of his cheeks red. “Now that is funny,” he shook his head, one brow raised. “You know I think of you in a very different way than I do our baby, honey.” 

Then he was tying his hair into a low bun. His words rang in your head as you watched with eyes zoned in on his fingers working. Such skillful fingers. . . Your teeth bit the plush skin of your lip. 

Thankfully, you snapped out of it before he could catch you watching him again. Josh was going to be picking you up soon anyway. And you still needed to change from your ratty sweats and cropped, oversized t-shirt. 

You went to dump out your bowl and rinse it in the sink. The task was completed quickly, to avoid getting close to him again. Once finished, you were walking on hurried legs out of the kitchen. But, just as you crossed the threshold, you heard his feet shuffling easily behind you. Honestly, you didn’t really want to be away from him yet. Not at all, actually. So. . . You slowed down. Just a bit. Not a big deal.

Besides, you were wondering about his plans for the day, too. . . So, you figured you’d ask. “What about you?” Since you were walking in front of him, you adjusted your sweats at your waist a little lower. Couldn’t stop the urge to show some more skin. You had to admit, your complexion was looking incredible after your long bath and stretch mark oils. Might as well show it off.  “What are your plans for the day?”

You looked over your shoulder at him. He was making his way towards you. Your eyes stayed trained on him. He wasn’t looking at you, but when he did, you caught him this time. His eyes darted immediately to your ass before he looked towards your face to answer. Your ass looked damn good in these sweats. So, you stared ahead with a smirk and kept walking, slow and deliberately moving your hips a tad more than necessary.

You heard his breath catch when he came up close behind you, making it to the living room with you. Again, though. You were trying to wisely avoid close proximity. So before he could come near enough to touch you, you were moving towards your bedroom. 

When you glanced over your shoulder at him again, you noticed him pause for a minute when you changed your path. But he just shook his head with a blush on his cheeks and scratched at the back of his head. You turned to acknowledge him as he rubbed at his lower lip with his finger. He was too pretty to not admire.

Then he was passing you entirely to lean over the couch for the remote. He bent at the waist, giving you an ideal view of his ass. So, for scientific purposes only, you gave it a nice, long look. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips at the way you could see each individual ass cheek outlined in his pants. . . But you weren’t going to think about that. Nope.

“Well,” he began, with a sort of groan as he rose from his leaning position. You ignored the way the sound made your heart accelerate, your underwear a little wet at all things him. “I have to meet with a couple of clients for lessons and then I have dinner plans at this new restaurant that Maya wants to try.”

Of fucking course. You played it cool and gave him a forced grin as he still wasn’t looking at you, but rather the finicky remote. “Will you be home tonight?” Why did you have to ask that? Shit. You weren’t desperate for him to be home or anything.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded without a second thought, turning on the TV and clicking Netflix. Thankfully, it had to update, so he was momentarily free from distraction. Pushing some hair back behind his ear that hadn’t made it into his bun, he finally looked at you — at your body. Again. Did he have no shame? (Secretly, you sure hoped he didn’t. His stare was your body’s favorite source of attention; all of your nerve endings reacted readily to his amber-brown irises any time they found you.)

His eyes instantly went to your belly, showing from the bottom hem of your cropped shirt. At the sight, he took in a deep breath, raising his brows with a measured lick of his lips. The oils worked wonders to make your skin look smooth and firm. It helped that you were one of the lucky ones who had a naturally tanned shade of skin, the oils really complimented it.

With the way he was staring at you – almost admiring you, it made your mind buzz with memories of last night. You were back in the living room, on the couch. Jake, on his knees in front of you. His hands, in your pants and his breath fanning your neck.

Last night, when his face was suddenly coming towards you again, lips brushing your ear. “Miss your body so much, baby.”

The pull to him was extremely hard to ignore when he was infiltrating all of your senses and memories in a matter of minutes–seconds. The act of looking at him — simply seeing him smile — was enough to make your brain short-circuit, so all of the other details had done nothing to help your insistence at being ‘just friends’. . . 

This morning had been an attack against your female anatomy. His wet, half naked body. Those trained fingers tying his hair back. Those beautiful eyes closing in pure satisfaction as he swallowed his black coffee. . . And now him, blatantly and unabashedly appreciating your body. You let your eyes float down his form, appreciating every line and curve of his chest and abdomen. Then you saw his fingers twitch at his waist into clenching fists, measuring his tolerance, it seemed. The assumption was seemingly confirmed with a certain twitch between his legs that you couldn’t ignore. Fuck. 

And, there you were again. Last night. His fingers, literally on your (clothed, thank god) clit in front of everyone. He’d placed his mouth on your ear once more, a groan having escaped him at the same time you’d felt your sensitive nub pulsate against his finger. “X marks the spot?” He’d heatedly spoke against your ear, in a whisper that only you could hear. 

Netflix’s tell-tale dun-dun broke the moment. His concentration on your body, gone with a few heavy blinks of his eyes and one thick swallow. 

After a moment of realization dawned on both of you, you cleared your throat and rubbed a nervous hand down your arm a few times. “So you’ll be home tonight?” You tried, blinking several times as well to readjust your train of thought – knew it was best to move past it. 

“Yeah,” he shook his head, letting his eyes find yours. You swam in his caramel chocolate irises. “She’s got plans with her friends afterwards. I should be back in time for you to tell me all about yoga with Josh,” he snorted at the thought. “Shit’s about to be en-ter-taining, I’m sure.”

You couldn’t help but follow with your own little giggle. “Of course it’s going to be. It wouldn’t be Josh if it weren’t bound to be entertaining,” you added. 

For a few more seconds, you just stood there. Both of you, not talking. Still smiling, but your eyes interlocked in a way that had the potential to be dangerous. Especially as the easy smiles faded down to muted, almost secret grins. His tongue slipped past his lips for a millisecond, yours doing the same in response. He gently bit his lip. Just long enough for you to notice. Your breath, once again hitching in your throat, at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he watched you, not letting his darkened gaze leave you for a second.

So, with that, you began to walk back to your room. Had to have a level head. God. “I’ve gotta go get ready. I’ll see you ton–.”

“Are you still using that giant Stanley I bought for you?” He pondered, making you pause and turn a bit. You raised a brow. “Just thought you could take it with you to yoga. Just to stay hydrated, y’know.”

You blinked a couple times before you gracefully (you hoped, anyway) smiled in his direction. Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you nodded in response. “Yes, I use that thing on the daily. You, of all people, should know this,” you giggled with a smirk. Then you realized how that might have sounded. Didn’t want it to seem like you’d caught him watching you everyday or anything – that wasn’t it. Fuck. Would he take it that way? “I mean, considering we share a residence and all.”

“I got you, honey. Knew what you meant,” he winked. Fuck. Your belly danced at that, your heart skipping a beat when he, once again bit his lip. Murder. He was trying to murder you. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Love it,” you emphasized with the correction. Why? God. The emphasis of the word love definitely didn’t help matters. “Thank you for that, again.”

“You’ve gotta quit thanking me.”

“Why? That wouldn’t be polite.”

“You don’t have to be polite with me,” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “It’s me.”

“That means I should be polite — with everything you have done for me,” you tucked your hands under your belly. He followed your movement briefly before interlocking gazes again. “Everything you’ve put up with.”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that with me. Seriously. I haven’t had to put up with anything. . . And I’ve told you I’m here for you. And I am here for you—because I want to be – get to be. I don’t need to be thanked for something that seems like a reward to me in its own right.”

What did one say to that? Deciding you weren’t sure in the slightest, you just gave him a quick smile before going back in the direction of your room. Josh was going to be here soon. Like, less than twenty minutes.

And if Jake kept up like this, you could see yourself canceling on Josh to sit on the couch with Jake instead until he had to leave for his errands. That would be pathetic. And you needed the time with Josh. 

“Oh, also,” his voice called to you once more.

This time, you controlled yourself, the knob under your hand a good way to stay weighted to the earth. You flipped your hair over your shoulder, billowing out around you. You angled your body just enough to address him. Didn’t even look at him this time, for fear of sinking into his amber-brown irises. 

“Mhm?” You hummed, eyes trained on the ground next to your left foot. 

“‘Baby Kiszka’?” 

Baby K–? Oh. The Ovia app. The baby’s name in the app. You’d put her name in as ‘Baby Kiszka’ so long ago. Didn’t even think about it when you did it, honestly. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in your mind that you wanted her to have Jake’s last name. As soon as you’d convinced yourself out of the initial notion that she might ruin his damned life. (Which, by the way, you realized was a stupid thought process. Almost selfish, even. How had you honestly thought it would be okay to leave him out of the loop due to a nearly-baseless fear?)

To be fair, you’d been in full-on panic mode back in October – completely alone in your knowledge of her for a bit too long, your thoughts almost having drowned you. . . .Until you’d let him in that day. The day on the way to the abortion clinic. When he’d surrounded you via Apple fucking CarPlay. His voice had cleared your mind, relaxed you inexplicably (per usual). You’d let him be the one to convince you to keep her. No one else contributed to that decision. It had been between you and him. Completely unbeknownst to him at the time, of course. 

Anyway, beside the point. . . You knew it was a name to be damn proud of – her daddy was someone to be proud of. So, naturally, you were planning on her last name being Kiszka. No question.

“Well obviously,” you responded, not able to resist shifting just a little more to catch his eyes as you lifted your lips gently. His eyes were open, vulnerable – a lot like you imagined your own to look so often these days. Though, he was also seeming to process the fact that you wanted the baby so intimately tied to him. You continued, just to finish your thought. “That was a no brainer for me. I’m very proud that you are her daddy. I want her to be proud, too. Your last name is special to me, and even more so if she shares it.”

He was obviously pleased. Definitely shocked, but in quiet awe, you could tell. His gaze sparked with electricity at the knowledge of your plan to name her after him. After clearing his throat and blinking a few times, “Thank you,” was all he responded as his eyes bore into yours.

“Now, Jake,” you jokingly reprimanded, lifting a challenging brow. “Why are you thanking me for something that is like a reward to me in its own right?”

Arguably, as you left that yoga class, you felt the most relaxed you had in a long while. Your belly was still heavy at your front, but everything else felt so loose. Weightless. It was nice.

Josh had decided afterwards that it was a good plan to get a couple of smoothies. And who were you to argue that? It was even more tempting since he’d offered to buy them.

The drive to and from all of your ventures had been rejuvenating. You two had listened to music most of the car ride – enjoying the soul music you’d both bonded over several years ago. 

But, as soon as Aretha’s “You’re All I Need To Get By” came on the shuffle, you quickly reached forward to skip past that one. And, it must have been your lucky day because as soon as that one was out of the way, the other song from that morning on the living room floor was playing. The only songs you’d skipped and, of course, Josh had noticed. 

He’d snorted at you, making you glance in his direction. “What did Miss Aretha do to you?” 

“Nothing,” you shook your head with a lip stuck out. “Just didn’t feel like listening to those songs, I guess.”

I imagine your brother stark naked, inside of me, when I hear those songs, if you must know, you thought with a skip to your heart at the memory. And that’s just not what I need at the moment, Joshua.

And, with absolutely zero surprise, you were back on that damn living room floor. No point in skipping the songs, it seemed. It would haunt you anyway. The gray morning, rain pattering against the windows. The stupid idea you’d had, forever altering your association to the Queen of Soul.

You’d just sat up on your elbows to watch him as he thumbed through the records, appreciating the view. “You pick and I’ll let you know if I like.”

And, as he’d searched through the albums, you’d just let your mind wander, right along with your eyes. . .His body was a work of art. Always would be. Your favorite work of art. His thighs, ever-muscular, from the way they flexed when he’d move his body with his guitar on stage. That perfectly round ass that was undoubtedly gifted to him by the body gods. And his broad shoulders – strong to match his equally strong personality.

When he’d turned a bit towards you, you’d been given an image you’d never forget. His eyes, quickly scanning the back of a vinyl. And as he did so, your eyes had instantly found his straining dick. . . .

And, in the current moment, right next to his goddamned twin brother, you had to cross your damn legs at the thought of Jake’s dick. Fuck everything. Even if you shouldn't, all you wanted was Jacob Kiszka. All. You. Wanted. It was stupid to ever think you could convince yourself out of that particular desire. 

You could still imagine every detail from that morning. The fucking tip, even — swollen from being pulled mid-sex. Your clit still thrummed and twitched at the thought, remembering how it glistened from your dripping center. 

He’d turned to you fully, the Aretha Franklin vinyl in his grip – her Greatest Hits. You’d found his eyes. They were questioning, but you hadn’t been able to focus entirely on his glance. No, you’d looked away from his eyes to admire your most favorite parts of his body. His toned pecs and his solid stomach— fuck. He made you fucking weak. There were truly no words for the way he was built— pecs naturally firm and rounded with lean muscle. And his stomach— just a little soft and the perfect finish to it all, complimenting him just right— finishing out his sturdy, powerful stature. 

His aura alone would always be compelling. He was utterly beautiful, with his sparkling amber-brown eyes, flowing chestnut locks – even longer now than then – and his sharp features. And the way he was built matched so well with how he carried himself. Without even trying, he could control any room he was in. (And control you with a simple snap of his fingers.)

He was honestly what all of your dreams were made of. And, in moments from the past, like the sacred one you were remembering. . . you remember wishing everyday – more than anything – that he be yours. Still wanted him to be yours. You could remember thinking. . . No matter how bad you could be for him, your selfish wants had you constantly feeling pulled towards Jake.

But. . . he wasn’t yours. Not then. Not. Now. And that bitter thought had helped to snap you out of your trance, having finally looked at him to answer. He was smirking, knowingly. “I love your body, too, Beautiful.”

Your thighs pressed even closer together as you tapped out the beat of the current song on your thighs.

A Minnie Riperton song. Just focus on Minnie. Tried to remember the moment you were currently in. . . But you couldn’t. Not yet. Wait. Riperton. This song. You focused for a second. Dear god — was fucking "Memory Lane" playing? O-kay. Your life was truly hilarious. (Meaning, it was, in fact, not hilarious in the slightest.)

You tried to tune her out, rejecting the lyrics that hit far too close to home for your taste. But all that happened when you tuned her out, was Jake, in your memory, repeating the statement about your body. . . His eyes on you this morning. His hands on you last night. . . You continued to only hear those words from his mouth on repeat when you squeezed your eyes shut, so tightly. With a gentle touch, you placed a hand to the bottom of your tummy to hold it. Your body now was nowhere near the same as it had been then. . . 

How the fuck would he talk about your body now? You knew how he felt about some of your newer assets. But. . . how would it feel now to hear him say things like that about your body? And during sex? His dick, impossibly hard and leaking for your current, swollen body? Your belly, your bigger breasts? Your fuller thighs. . . Would he look at your naked body the same during sex now? Fuck. Why were you even thinking like that?! You were imagining things that were only breaking your heart. . . Getting your mind in a dangerous space it did not need to be in. Realizing it was slightly safer in your memories, you leaned back against your headrest to feel the rest of the moment.

You’d flushed at the words then. Even going the extra mile to roll your eyes. Tried your best to play off the way his words made your heart flutter. Ridiculous attempt. With a peek briefly at the record, you nodded at the choice. “Aretha is always a yes.”

“Agreed.”

He’d turned to put it on the Crosley, and as soon as the needle hummed against the record, making its wonderful crackling sound, you knew he’d made the right choice. This record was something else. (And now, the Greatest Hits vinyl held your heart in ways you could’ve never imagined on that rainy morning.) You could remember how it felt to watch him – the intoxicating combination of seeing him walk back to you, with some of the most incredible music backing him. . . Shit. (If you know, you fucking know.)

“I hope you don’t mind. I skipped past the first few,” he’d said as he came back to you, falling to his knees beside you. So near to you and ready to resume sex with you. No constraints. No girlfriends. No ugly voice in the back of your head telling you how terrible you were for him. Things were still perfect. 

You’d smiled up at him. “Perfectly fine. This is the best song on the entire record anyway.” 

“I think so, too,” he’d said, eyes lifting with a grin.

God. You felt tears climbing your throat, right next to Josh, as you thought of his sweet face. The smile on his lips that could have cured every single piece of trauma ever. . . If you would have let it. He was so goddamn perfect. And you were. . . well. . . you.

Then, he’d come back to you. Laid on his back for you as you angled your body to straddle him, sinking onto him.

The look on his face when you fucked him was one of your favorite sights. He’d always watched you so closely. . .whether it be your face, your breasts, your ass, or your core that wrapped around him, so tight. He’d scrunch his brows and let his mouth open a bit with certain movements of your hips, and bite his lip at other times. . . But, in moments like that one, with one hand holding your face while the other gripped your hip, a small, close-mouthed smile on his soft, plush lips. . . His emotion-filled eyes, boring into yours . . .

Your world had always tipped slightly on its axis when he’d do shit like that. Moments like the one from many mornings ago. . . Those moments had never failed to make a whole lot of gray in what should have been a strictly black and white situation. (Dangerous.) And, as you’d listened to the soulful voice flowing quietly from the record player, your thoughts drifted further. . .

When my soul was in the lost and found,

You came along to claim it.

I didn't know just what was wrong with me,

Till your kiss helped me name it.

The song had perfectly summed up how you felt about this man. The same man who had once been the bane of your existence, was now a light on your darkest days. And, in the present time. . . the father of your baby. Fuck.

As you’d glanced down to watch him, his hips had begun to move on their own – never failing to make you feel complete and right. . .

You truly couldn’t imagine your life without him. Having him in your life made you feel . . . whole.

Without evening knowing or trying, he’d helped you find missing pieces to your puzzle. Hidden pieces of your soul that you hadn’t seen in a long time. Some good pieces. Some bad pieces. But all necessary pieces of you. Pieces you’d forgotten even existed. And by simply being near you, he made you feel authentic in a way you’d never felt with another man. 

As you’d continued riding him, you had leaned down on your forearms to get close to his face. His handsome, handsome face. You’d given him a long kiss. A kiss that you’d hoped, then, was able to say thank you. . . Because, truly, you were so grateful for him. But when you’d separated your lips from his and pressed your perspired forehead to his own, you’d found the deep pools of his eyes that held so much of your world in them. And you’d known then that you had to say the words out loud.

“Thank you,” you’d whispered, hoping he’d understand as new tears had clouded your vision. Your hips were moving languidly at the perfect pace, matching the slow rocking of his hips. You’d been holding onto him, keeping rhythm with the beautiful, now-special song.

He’d held your gaze for more than a few moments, a secret smile forming in his eyes as he spoke. “Thank you.”

You’d studied him seriously, the feeling in his eyes seeming to match the longing in your heart. Both of you had stayed there for a minute, taking the other in. You’d kissed him once more. And, rather than continuing the conversation, you’d focused on finding a release for you both. 

That hadn’t even been “You’re All I Need To Get By”. . . Not yet. No, that song, the blissful melody from your memory, was “You Make Me Feel (Like A Natural Woman)”. . . And that he did – made you feel like the melodies of that song. Always would. He was every lyric of that song, sealed forever in your heart that way. But the next song. . . When you’d fallen apart on top of him. And him, just barely pulling out in time, to finish onto your tummy. . . All while the song had been surrounding you, enveloping your senses. . .

“Y/n!” Josh’s voice called to you from the current moment, his fingers making you jump a bit, your eyes hurriedly blinking open as he snapped in front of your face. “Earth to y/n!”

Fuck. How were you going to explain getting lost like that? Thankfully, your eyes had still been closed. You could just say you’d been sleeping. 

“I was just sleeping, Josh,” you lamely explained, smacking his hand away. Looking to your right, you hoped you were already at the cafe to escape any questioning. 

And, fate had worked in your favor, as he’d just parallel parked at Jungle Juice. Perfect timing. Avoid avoid avoid. You definitely hadn’t missed the curious look in his eye after your barely-there explanation or the way he’d opened his mouth to begin to question you. But as soon as he’d parked, you were hopping out of that Jetta. 

Soon, you were sitting down at a table inside as you took a sip of the pomegranate smoothie in your hand. Josh was still at the counter, you having instantly put distance between him and yourself. As you sat, your mind briefly drifted to the mundane task of taking a seat. Recently, it was slightly more difficult to get situated thanks to the soreness and differences in your changing body. You noticed how much easier than normal it was to simply sit comfortably, thanks to the yoga. 

Soon, Josh was sitting down across from you. And, after he took one tiny drink of his smoothie, he pushed it ahead of him with a huff. His fluffy mess of curls flowed around his head with the noise. There should’ve been no surprise when he didn’t drop what you'd started in the car. His ass had just touched his booth bench when he was asking you. “What the fuck is it with those songs?”

“What?” You crinkled your brow at that. He hadn’t ever been around before for you to skip past those songs. And for all he knew, you’d literally fallen asleep after the relaxing yoga class. “Just didn’t feel like hearing them today. And I got tired. Fell asle—.”

“Jake gets weird when they come on, too. . .,” he interrupted with a raised brow, trailing off as if lost in thought while addressing you. “Specifically “You’re All I Need”,” he mumbled, sort of to himself as he looked down at the table. Then his eyes flashed back to yours. “And, no. You were not sleeping. Faker.”

Okay. . . there was definitely no explaining your way out of this one. Were you really going to have to be honest with him about your feelings? It did not feel like the time – for more reasons than one. But you decided you’d say what you could. . . Maybe you could make him uncomfortable enough to move on. . .

“Jake and I had some incredible sex to those songs,” you began, eyes not once leaving his. He held firm, even after that blatant statement. Okay. Second try. But you had to look down for this part, too embarrassed to look at Josh as you said it. “Got really close to making the baby that morning rather than the night we got high. He pulled out just in time to aim it on my bell–.”

“Noooo thanks,” the curly-headed twin stopped you, making you glance up with a satisfied grin. He was holding up a hand, his lips turned down dramatically. “That is e-nough. Truly. I know what I need to know.”

You raised a brow, a tiny smirk on your lips as a laugh squeaked past your lips. “Joshua. You didn’t need to know any of that.”

“Well. . . maybe you’re right,” he surmised with another small sip from his green drink. 

“Well, I usually am right,” you answered, relieved that he’d gotten all he wanted – no, needed – to know. “So, how are things going with–?” “Also, you are not ‘usually right’, my dear,” he corrected you, air quotes and all. His nose twitched with his own grin as he watched you narrow your eyes in his direction. “I can tell you that right now. Your little speech from last night. . . You and Jake both. Fuck,” he snorted before taking another drink. He covered his mouth with a silent laugh before smoothing the hand down the side of his face. “Both of you are the worst liars to ever live.”

The breath you should’ve been breathing got stuck in your lungs. Shit. Where was he going with this? This had the potential to be an extremely embarrassing and awkward conversation you weren’t in the headspace to have. “What are you talking about, Josh?” 

“You and my twin, claiming you were ‘nothing’,” he began, lips quirked with a close-lipped grin and the air quotes coming out to play again with the word you’d both used to describe your situationship. “That all your relationship was was one night of meaningless sex that resulted in my niece or nephew.”

Niece, you silently added. You suddenly wanted to tell him really badly. But you’d let Jake do that. Made a note to tell Jake he could do that whenever he was ready. 

“I just find it funny,” he finished, his mouth still curved into a smirk. “I’m pretty sure we all knew that you were lying out of your asses. Well. . . except for that Theo guy. He’s kind of a moron.”

How did you even respond to this? Did you lie? Confide? Half-heartedly agree? Completely avoid it and tell him you didn’t want to discuss it? Fuck if you knew. So, you just began talking. 

“How are you so confident in this assumption that we were lying about it being nothing?” You quizzed him, taking a drink to hide a little. “You didn’t even know that we were doing it while we were doing it. Did you ever stop to think that maybe you didn’t know because it was nothing more than sex?”

“Oh, y/n. How in the world can you begin to question my empathic tendencies? You know I’d sensed the difference in Jake,” he reminded you, noting back to your conversation on the day of the first OB appointment. “And, the more I thought back on it, I remember there being an improvement in your soul during the summertime as well. . . Only towards the end of it did you get all mopey. When, I can only assume, you started doubting yourself and Jacob. And you were pulling such an Eeyore that Jake wanted to host a night to raise your spirits. . .,” he trailed off, taking another drink before tapping a finger to his chin, sitting the cup on the table. 

“But, yes. You were nothing, mhm,” he continued with a sardonic nod, closing his eyes briefly with a mischievous grin before he was looking at you again. “You both were noticeably different – good different. He noticed every shift in your mood. . . And you got emotional way back on the day of that first ultrasound when I brought up his relationship with Maya. . . Um, what else? Oh! The motherfucker takes you to therapy! Of course he does, because you feel safe with him. Big fucking deal for you, by the way. And, yes, I know this, y/n – I’m watchful and I know you. Definitely know him. Don’t you argue the facts with me,” he pointed at you with a raised brow and a slight smile. “. . .But. You were nothing. Okay.”

Well. “I–.”

“And then last night,” Josh giggled, taking a sip of his smoothie before placing his hands on the table in excitement. “Jake had his hands up your shorts, touching you. . . like that in front of everyone–.” 

“It was a card he was playing, Jo–.”

“. . .Whispering in your ear, your fuckin’ body reacting to it. His bodily reaction to it – I mean, with one unfortunate glance downwards, anyone was privy to that situation in his pants,” he outwardly cringed, lips turned down as he shook his head at the thought. He’d been that noticeably hard? Fuck. “And then, going to the bathroom to relieve himself with everyone in the living room!” Josh couldn’t stop his wail of a laugh at the end of the last line, attracting multiple eyes from fellow customers at the sound. 

“Josh, be quiet–,” you tried to intervene, once again getting stopped with his rambling.

“Well, not everyone, per se. I wish Elsie could have experienced that shit,” he shook his head again, but this time with a laugh as if remembering a fond memory. “She would have gotten a kick out of the free porn!”

Free PORN?! Josh.

“Joshua!” You were stunned, his voice still a higher decibel than it should have been for a proper establishment like Jungle Juice. Voice hushed, you leaned towards him. “Please quiet the fuck down.”

He observed your expression, still cackling. But soon, it calmed down. Calmed down enough to where he was still letting out little huffs of laughter, but his eyes bulged a bit. He seemed to remember at that very moment that it wasn’t just the two of you. Face set straighter than before, he turned, looking around to hastily address the people near you with an apology. Meanwhile, your cheeks were positively burning at everything he’d said. How in the hell did you even begin to address that shit? And why was it always on you to answer questions and never Jake? 

When he was facing you again, you decided to try that line. Just to gain your bearings. “Are you going to quiz Jake like this? Or is it only the emotional pregnant lady who’s getting the heat?”

“Oh, he got it first. I actually crashed his and Maya’s morning this morning,” he replied, waving it off. Your stomach dropped at the thought of them in bed together, like you knew it shouldn’t. They were the couple. “Well. . . if I can even phrase it as such. Maya was being completely ignored by him. He was asleep, mind you. But, he’d separated himself as much as possible from her, his body was practically pushed against the wall. I know she noticed how far detached he was, though. . . She was looking his way when I barged in, a sad look on her face and everything. Poor thing. Didn’t take much for me to make her leave.”

The way you snorted at that was unstoppable. He what? “Josh. You made her leave?”

“Well, again – if I can even phrase it like that,” he shrugged, one hand waving nonchalantly in the air with a roll of his eyes. “Like I said, she was already awake when I went in. I think she’d just woken up to notice he’d pulled totally away from her,” he grit his teeth, baring them with a hiss as he shook his head. “So it didn’t take much more than me asking if I could please talk to my brother for her to leave. She was already kind of pissy, but she readily agreed. I’m sure she thought I was going to confront him about blatantly cheating on her in front of us all.”

Blatantly cheating. Harsh words. True words. You felt guilty at them. Because, yes, you’d completely joined in on Jake’s antics – helped him be unfaithful to her. To be fair, you couldn’t have stopped yourself if you tried. . . Hence your new determination to be nothing more than a friend. As much as it sucked.

“Did you? Confront him?” Was all you could croak out. 

“I did confront him about it, yes,” he nodded assuredly, his tone stern. Damn. Was he actually super pissed? Why had he been all giggly if he was so angry? 

So, you started apologizing. You felt really bad and you didn’t know what else to do. 

“I’m sorry, Josh. I don’t know what came over me. I just couldn’t–.”

“Help yourself?” 

You blinked with a nervous gulp. “Yes. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Jake said the same. And, of course you couldn't,” he replied, intonation light once again. You blinked again, this time in shock at the change in attitude and Jake's apparent words. He continued before you could question it. “I knew he couldn't help himself even before he told me. He acted on his heart motive, impulsively. There was no other reason for him to act so rashly in front of all of us.”

It was silent for a few seconds, your brain blanking on what to even respond to that. You were curious what he’d said to Jake. What else Jake had responded with. . . But you were scared to ask – didn’t want to make even more of an ass out of yourself by prying. 

Thankfully, Josh kept on before you could consider it any longer. “So, I told him this morning. . .” You tried not to look too interested. He cleared his throat, his eyes finding yours seriously, your stomach dropping at what he could have said. “I told him that if he’s going to do that shit, he needs to keep it out of Maya’s sight. Because, while I don’t condone cheating, I do condone my brother being happy. And hopefully, she’ll be out of the picture soon anyway, so the cheating won’t even have to be a factor. Keeping it out of her sight and all - won’t be an issue.”

Stunned. You were stunned. What the fuck?! You couldn’t stop staring at him. Your eyes, wide and expression shocked. The way your mouth hung open would have been more embarrassing had you been more aware of how much it gaped. But before you could give it much more thought, you were talking without thinking. 

“Excuse me?” You responded, rather loudly, you must say. "You told him what?!"

“Y/n!” Josh laughed, eyes bugged, pointing towards you before waving his hands theatrically around the restaurant. “‘Please — quiet the fuck down.’”

With a roll of your eyes, you didn’t humor his sarcastic reference to your earlier statement. Not when he’d just said what he had. With a shake of your head and a clear of your throat, you knew you had to apparently be the voice of reason to the twin sitting across from you. Just as you’d had to be the voice of reason to the other one in the hallway last night.

“Josh,” you cleared your throat once more, tapping your nails against the side of your plastic cup before fully wrapping your fingers around the disposable. Had to do something with your hands. “I am not going to be the reason that Jake isn’t with a woman he was with before. Before knowing about the baby, he was with her. And happy. And, if you condone his happiness, you, of all people, should understand exactly where I’m coming from.”

You were trying to be stony with your words – tried to not leave any room for argument. Though, as the expression on his face would show, Josh was having none of what you were saying. 

“Well, I hate to break it to you,” he started, leaning back with his arms crossed at his chest. His white sneakers, knocking against your own tennis shoes under the table as he stretched his legs. “I don’t understand where you’re coming from, little mama.”

Completely perplexed, your eyes widened at his response. “How?! I thought you said you wanted him to be happy. Maya makes him—.”

“Well, first things first, I wholly regret using the word happy because it sounds stale and hollow,” he made a ticking sound with his tongue against his teeth as he thought, finger tapping his chin again as the other arm stayed crossed. You let out a sigh at his distaste for the word happy. Of all things, that was what he was getting stuck on. “Let’s say we both want Jake to feel whole, fulfilled, and complete.”

“Okay, so let’s say we want him to being whole, fulfilled, and complete–.”

“Oh! And joy-filled. I happen to like the term joy-filled,” he nodded with a lip stuck out, pleased with himself. “It’s such a sweet little phrase.”

“. . .and joy-filled,” you finished your statement with another annoyed sigh, pushing your smoothie away. With your next words, you asked him a question you were genuinely curious about. “You’re saying Maya, in her goddess-like stature, doesn’t make him feel that way?”

“I think she makes him feel. . . temporarily sated,” he concluded. “And she does make him feel a hollow emotion such as plain fucking happiness because she can only offer him so much of what he wants.”

You shouldn’t have asked your next question, but still. You did. “What can’t she offer him?”

With one lift of his brows, he relaxed his features with a sly smile. He winked one eye at you, tipping his head in your direction. “I think you already know what she can’t offer him, mama.”

“I–,” you shook your head, closing your eyes as you looked down to recenter yourself. At the thought, you placed both hands on your belly. Fingers, interlaced. With a huff, you looked back at Josh’s waiting face, his long, fluffy hair touching his brows. “I don’t– I don’t need to be in a relationship right now. Not with the baby coming and how fucked up I already am. He needs someone who can offer him a whole heart. A healthy heart. I am already mending so many broken fences from my past. The last thing he needs to be dealing with is my trauma-filled past – on top of a baby, and his burgeoning career.”

“You’re doing all of those things, though?” He stated the fact as a question, challenging you. “You’re tackling all of that on your own. Getting shit done. What makes Jake incapable of handling those things as well? He can handle his shit. And what about him helping you handle yours? Have you considered how relieving that might be? To have a partner in all of that?”

Hearing the term partner associated with Jake being yours, per Josh’s mouth, had you unable to consider anything. You couldn’t get into all of that at the moment. Not with what you’d just told Jake last night. Not in a fucking Jungle Juice of all places either. Not right after the most relaxing poses, stretching, and bending you’d ever experienced. And definitely not after what had happened the night prior. In front of everyone.

It wasn’t time to consider that. There were other, more pressing matters. Besides, even if they were identical twins, Josh only knew so much. He still wasn’t Jake. And Jake had been the one to pursue Maya. For a reason, he’d gone after her. It was a reason he found legitimate enough to pursue her initially and enough to make him seriously date her in the long run. And that was enough for you. 

She’d been around before you, during you, and after you. . .for him. She was special to him. No doubt. And if she made him feel good, that was still better than him feeling traumatized with all of your shit. Not to mention you’d been the one to end things. It was too late for you to take back your words. Yes, Jake said he’d forgiven you. But had you forgiven yourself enough to trust yourself with him again? 

Jake deserved someone who made his life simpler. And that was definitely not you. As much as it pained you to your very core to see him with her, it was still better than the hurt you might inflict on him with your wishy-washy heart and headspace as you navigated your current waters. That was the deepest, most sure reason you had for denying him. Truly. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. It was that you wanted him so badly, that you couldn’t let yourself have him – for fear of hurting him.

Theo could be collateral damage all day long. Any guy could be, for that matter. But not Jake. Never Jake. You’d already done it, the one horrific day in the kitchen, all those months ago. Not again. You’d been careless with his heart and it was your worst mistake.

“I don’t need a relationship right now, Josh,” you responded with finality. You really meant it. “And I want Jake in my life long-term and I can’t trust myself to keep him long-term if I’m in a relationship with him while also not totally healed.” “I get that,” Josh responded with a nod, gathering his straw wrapper to mess with. He looked down at the paper in his grasp before peering up at you once more. “But is a person ever totally healed?”

Why was he keeping at this? He needed to stop. Now was not the time. You didn’t want this talk. Not now. Especially not with the tears gathering in your throat. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Josh,” you plainly stated, the wetness in your throat shown in your tone. Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear with one hand, the other still on your belly, you stayed grounded. Well ‘grounded’ enough, eyes still zoning out on the speckled table. “If I’m healing for anyone right now, it’s for my baby. That is my primary focus. So, please. Just let me focus on that.”

It was silent for a few minutes, getting to the point that you’d wonder if he was still there if his legs weren’t still stretched out beside yours. So, you let your eyes float back to his. He was simply watching you, a distant, sympathetic look in his eyes that you couldn’t place. Was he pitying you? Upset with you? Just plain sad for you? For his brother? 

Whatever it was, you decided you’d be the one to break the silence. His stare stayed on you, even as you connected your own eyes with his. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, twiddling your fingers against your swollen tummy. “I don’t want to let you down. And I definitely don’t want to let Jake down. But. . . this is just what’s best. I really believe it.”

“Okay,” he responded, slowly nodding in agreement with you. “And please, love, don’t say sorry. Not when you’re just telling me how you feel. Don’t ever be sorry for opening up to me — being honest with me. I’m your best friend – listening to you is what I’m here to do.”

The tears were back in your throat, gathering in your tear ducts. One slipped down your cheek, and more than anything, you wanted Jake to reach out and stop it. Wanted him to hold you while you felt this vast range of emotions. But he wasn’t here. Only Josh, who slipped a napkin your way, from the table dispenser. After you’d dabbed your cheeks, you both seemed to decide it was time to leave. You still had smoothie left, sipping on it as Josh threw his away. 

Once you were back in the car that evening, having shopped at City Point for hours - for fun things and for groceries - you were on your way back to the apartment.

At the first traffic light, Josh broke the comfortable silence. “I need you to know something. . .you are not letting me down, mama,” he sweetly noted. You glanced over at him, brows furrowed - didn't know what he was talking about. At your lack of response, he clarified. “Back at the restaurant, earlier today . . . You told me you didn’t want to let me or Jake down. You’re not letting either of us down. We are grown men and it isn’t your job to take care of us. Not for a second.”

“Oh,” was all you responded at first, at a loss for words. Then, as the drive continued for a few minutes, you thought about it all and decided to say one more thing. “Thank you for being there for me. You and Jake both are so great at it and I’m grateful for you.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, a little smile lighting up his face. And his next words made your heart ease in your chest in a way it hadn’t for weeks – months, even. Words you needed to hear. And having them come from Josh’s mouth was very settling. 

“I need you to know, y/n, that however you feel for Jake is okay. And it is right – whatever it may be,” he told you. You looked over at him, his brows set as he focused on the road and the subject matter. “Even if you don’t want me to, I know how deeply you feel for him, no matter if you’re ready for a relationship. I know he feels deeply for you. And that is what’s right. Because,” he paused, for what you could only presume as dramatic effect. It worked, though, as his last statement tore through your heart in every way it deemed appropriate. “The heart never lies, my dear.”

After considering his words, you felt a sense of sureness in yourself that you hadn’t felt for a long while. So, with a fuller heart after a fun day with your best friend, and a solid sense of self-assuredness, you turned the music back on. Deciding to be a big girl, you queued up “You Make Me Feel (Like A Natural Woman).” And, just as it got to the chorus, Josh reached over. His hand laid out, waiting for yours. Without a thought, you placed your hand in his. He gave it a squeeze before balancing your hands on the armrest. 

“I’m so proud of you, little mama,” he noted after a few more songs' melodies played through the speakers. Then, he was already turning down the street to the apartment as he offered another word. “But, y/n?”  

“Yes?” You asked, already looking for Jake’s car in the parking lot. As soon as you’d placed it, you breathed easier. You let yourself look at Josh, who was pulling down the row to park in your spot. 

“You say Maya makes Jake happy and maybe she does. For now,” he surmised, breathing in deeply through his nose. With his next words, his tone was clipped, testy. “But. . . my brother will only put up with a woman for so long who’s referring to his baby so poorly. As soon as he hears it, she’s out. I can promise you that.”

Referring to his baby so poorly. . .? What is he-? Oh.

“It looked like I was about to witness that baby being made for the second time over,” she’d bit out, her lips still pursed tightly and her fingers squeezing tight on her biceps. She’d sounded bitter, angry, and plain hateful. 

All emotions pointed at your child. You could definitely agree that Josh had a point. And you only wondered if you’d be around for Jake to hear her speak that way about your baby. . . What a moment that would be.

“Well,” you slowly began, weighing your words as you tapped your tummy contemplatively. “If she does speak that way about the baby in front of him,” you let your eyes travel to Josh’s profile, “I sure as hell hope I’m around to hear it all go down.”

Josh giggled at that, his lips loose in a carefree grin as he caught your eye, raising his brows. “Me fuckin’ too, little mama.”

December 19, 2022

The following Monday was a very busy day for you. 

In the morning, you’d worked the opening shift at the Black and Gold. It had been an early morning waking up - the sun had come a little too soon for your liking after two nights in a row of staying up later than you were used to these days.

Because, when you'd gotten home, Jake had been waiting for you. And, you'd spent time with him from the time you got home to bedtime. He'd made enough stir fry for you to have some when you got home. And, as you ate, he’d kept his word and talked to you about yoga and Josh at yoga. Neither of you brought up the conversation that Josh had apparently had with you both. No, just focused on how. . . involved. . . Josh had made his Warrior II. It had been an entire production, playing on the word Warrior, creating his own character, right there, in the middle of yoga class. 

Then, you’d eventually given in to the nagging thought to ask him to watch New Girl with you, even after talking about Josh and baby things for an hour or so. And, even though you'd feared rejection because of it being close to ten o'clock, you’d gotten none. He’d immediately agreed to it. Almost instantly, he’d gone to pop some popcorn for you both and everything. And, of course, he’d grabbed your Stanley from the coffee table and filled it up with fresh ice water. 

You’d almost fallen asleep leaning into his shoulder, but you’d stopped yourself. Thank God. After a few episodes and a lot of laughter, you’d turned in for the night. You hadn’t wanted to give up time with him, relishing in it, actually. But you’d been very tired after the first day of yoga, the talk with Josh, and hours of shopping with Josh afterwards. As much as you loved the man, he was a party and a half, all in one person. He recharged you and drained your battery all at once. In the best way possible, of course. And, well, being pregnant, caring for two lives in one body, just really take it out of a person.

But, the morning at work hadn’t been too bad, even with going to sleep later than normal the two nights prior. It had been the perfect opportunity to buy a few records as Christmas presents (your go-to gift for nearly everyone, every year). You’d even bought one for Jake – hadn’t even questioned the idea of buying him a gift, doing it on instinct. In your mind, it only made sense to get him one, too. He was so special - for many reasons. 

So, you’d bought him a special record. A risky one, maybe. A particular record you probably shouldn’t have bought for him, but your impulses and heart had gotten the best of you. You'd purchased a 7"/45 rpm single. Two of them, actually. One for each of your Aretha songs: ‘You’re All I Need’ and ‘You Make Me Feel’. Original pressed singles, both in mint condition. They'd just come in on a truck, too - only one of each in the store. You’d taken it as a sign. They'd been on the more expensive side, but you’d purchased them before you could chicken out. You promised yourself to reflect on the crazy purchase later – if need be. After that, the day had been over since Lacey had arrived to pick up the mid-day shift. Then, you’d driven back home with all of your gifts in tow, to take a quick shower before therapy that afternoon. 

In the shower, you thought back on all of the gifts you’d bought today. And when you thought of Jake’s. . . You sort of blanched. You knew you would. Wondered briefly what you’d been thinking – getting those vinyls for him? Out of every other record you could have purchased? 

Whatever. As you climbed out of the shower, you vowed, yet again, to think about it later. After counseling, maybe. You were already very pressed for time with your work schedule. You hadn’t a lot of time to get ready to head to Gia. No time to think about Christmas gifts.

It had been convenient timing for Jake to already be gone for his big show tonight when you’d arrived home. Yes, it still definitely sucked that he wasn’t able to take you. But, if you weren’t worrying about trying to dodge him while wearing a towel, you would be able to get ready the slightest bit faster. 

Win some, lose some.

On the drive there, you continued to be a little nervous about not having a person with you - considering Jake couldn’t be there. 

He’d told you last night. And, he'd felt really bad about not being able to make it. As you watched Schmidt freak out over driving moccasins, Jake had remembered a big show they had to perform tonight. You'd celebrated with him right off the bat. And adamantly agreed it was huge for them to perform that show and that he couldn't miss it. You knew the venue - a decently sized, legendary one. A venue all new artists dreamt of playing in. He’d asked over and over if it was truly okay that he was busy. And each time, you’d reassured him. It wasn’t his fault and that he should be excited.

But, amidst his sad guilt for being busy, he’d so graciously pointed out that he just 'felt terrible' because 'there’s truly no way you to know what to expect from the EMDR.' And, well, obviously. You knew that. You knew that there was no telling what horrific things might greet you as you left your lavender field at each session. So, your thoughts had you very nearly spiraling on the drive there. 

But, the timing of his show couldn’t have been better. Thankfully, the appointment was an incredibly easy one. You’d spent the beginning of the appointment filling Gia in on everything that had happened as of late. She’d asked kindly if you wanted her advice. And, honestly, you hadn’t wanted any advice yet. Just wanted to tell her – a chance to confide in someone sort of neutral. 

You were relieved when she didn’t give a blatant reaction to anything you mentioned – she’d simply sat there and let you give every last detail from the past few days. The gender reveal appointment, game night, the talk with Jake, your shameful romp with Theo. . . And the talk with Josh. She did ask you a question, though. No advice. Just, pondered with her wise, psychologically-geared brain.

“How did it feel to have Josh say those things?” Was the one thing she’d asked, eyeing you skeptically as she waited for your response. 

You held that question for a minute and went with your automatic feeling that you’d associated with the conversation. “It felt like something was clicking into place that needed to,” you explained, chewing the inside of your cheek. “It was absolutely ideal and necessary for my heart.”

“Him, too, I’m sure,” Gia offered, raising a brow. “I’ve got to meet him.”

“I’ll bring him with me instead of Jake at some point,” you smirked with a wink. “You’ll love him and he’ll love you.”

She grinned, her green eyes sparkling behind her wire framed glasses. The two blonde tendrils that fell flawlessly on either side of her face swept her cheeks as she nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Having Josh be the one to say things like that,” you continued, catching a thought flying by in your messy brain. “It really helped me to view the entire situation with more of a positive attitude. His approval of things means just as much as my sister’s, most times. Which is huge.”

“I love how you trust him,” she nodded along, once more. Her eyes, still twinkling. She looked reminiscent of a fairy, truly. “That is huge. You, trusting people.”

You hummed in agreement, thinking of Josh saying something very similar the day before. With pursed lips and a raised brow, you considered that. “I think you’re right.”

“I think so, too,” she responded. Her voice, so smooth, instantly helping you feel at ease. “I think I know what happened when you met Josh.”

“What is that?” You implored, needing to know her thoughts. 

“He helped you to reach for this light that you’d forgotten existed. Wouldn’t you say?”

You nodded slowly, taking it in with a thoughtful hum. “Mhm. . . I agree.”

“Would it be safe to assume that maybe you’d gotten into a sort of bland routine in life before you’d let Josh into it?”

How did she-? “Hit the nail right on the head, actually.”

“It’s a trauma response,” she explained, as if it were a normal thing. She was good at that - helping you feel normal when you knew your trauma, did in fact, make you slightly crazy. “A lot of people close off to others and don’t allow for a lot of change and it puts you in this mundane mindset that can almost drown you. If you let it.”

You nodded once more, she had a point. She was always right. But you loved moments like this where it literally felt like she was sitting inside of your brain, taking notes. 

“And I’d venture to say. . .,” she began slowly. Leaning forward in her seat pensively, elbows resting on her knees as she peered right into your soul. Her expensive perfume came off of her in gentle waves. “His twin brother, Jake. . . He maybe gave the final push. He was the other piece of the puzzle. He forced your hand with his presence and you kind of, I don’t know, had to face reality when he came into your life? I think he held this mysterious air that you needed to know more about that made you dig deeper within yourself. Josh, he didn’t come with mystery. And, well, we both know you feel differently for Jake than you do for Josh. . .,” she paused, raising her brow at you. 

Your only response was a visible gulp. And, no, it was not put on. The gulp was very real. She was just that intuitive. Damn. “So, it all just. . . works. Truly twins, huh? Two unique pieces of a very beneficial puzzle." She said leaning back in her seat again, leisurely. She brought one thigh up to her chest and let the other foot rest on the floor. Tapping out a patient beat. “Josh helped you reach for the positive and Jake helped you push out the negative.”

“I hated how Jake made me feel things,” you said, absentmindedly. Your brain was doing the weird swirly thing where you couldn’t stop the feeling of newfound understanding if you tried. There’s therapy for you, folks. “He really did push me. And I hated it. But. . .,” You trailed, tears gathering in your throat. 

“. . .But?” She urged, mentally holding your hand. Willed you to continue. 

“But I think I hated it because I knew I’d have to face shit that I'd never had to before. Elsie sort of made that point to me at the beginning, actually,” you snorted, thinking back to that day in the car. Where she’d told you certain things about your past you’d forgotten. Without Jake, you wouldn’t have had that conversation with her. He'd really been that final push, as Gia had called it. “But I think my heart didn’t understand him. Or, maybe it understood him too well. He made me—makes me—feel so safe that it’s. . . uncomfortable. But,” you paused, brow crinkling when you finally met her eyes. “It’s like I’m uncomfortable in a way that feels so damn comfortable I could cry.”

Gia hummed, lips lifting slowly. “Sounds an awful lot like healing to me, sweets,” she deduced with a wink. “Jake. . . He came around for a reason. And it’s pretty special that there’s a little one now to show for it.”

All you could do was nod, placing a hand on your belly as you blinked once, measuring the motion with the wisdom that had floated from her mouth to your ears. Well damn. After that, she decided it was time to begin. And she attached her requested heart monitor to you before you began the session’s events of reprocessing. 

“Last time kind of scarred me,” she laughed nervously as she glanced up at you, clipping the HeartMath device to your pointer finger. “Can’t lie to you, sweets.”

And when you shut your eyes to begin, the lavender field had been waiting wistfully, along with Jake, so dreamy, in that stunning dark blue, three-piece suit – as always. Then, as you’d ventured to other places outside of your Safe Place, the only thing to greet you were smiles, laughter, and brightly colored lights. More specifically, you saw light-hearted, joyful fragments in time spent at your Grandma and Grandpa’s – all Christmas-centered memories, too. Gia had surmised your mind had conjured up the happier, holiday-themed scenes because the holiday was only six days away. 

When she walked you out, you gave Gia a humongous hug and thanked her for listening to the ‘ridiculous shit storm that was your life’. Of course, she reassured you immediately that ‘nothing about you was ridiculous and she was ready to talk more about it if you wanted to next time’. And with one final pat to your back as you pushed the front door to the office open, she reminded you.

“Think about what I said earlier. Maybe work on that ‘reaching for the positive’ thing. I’d call it ‘pushing out a negative, while reaching for a positive’,” she winked, a secret smile on her full lips. “Cancel the darkness out. Just give it a try.”

Dropping off the heart monitoring equipment to the post office came next. Once in the car at the counseling center, and all buckled up, you patted the yellow package in the passenger seat, the mechanisms all padded up inside. 

It had officially been a month of wearing it and it was time to send in your information to be analyzed. You were equal parts nervous and ready to know what the fuck had been happening with your heart a month ago. Your terrible puking spells (which had caused majorly debilitating dehydration) and low iron were still the biggest possible cause of most of it, of course. But. . . you were very eager to discuss your specific results with a cardiologist. POTS seemed very plausible, still, so.

Though, when you’d gotten in your car to drive to your next destination, something mentioned in your session with Gia came roaring back to you. Gia had said Christmas was only six days away. . . And, well, you hadn’t even decorated yet. How in the fuck had you and Jake both forgotten to decorate? And how was it only six days away?!

As soon as the thought of being forgetful entered your mind, you couldn’t help but grin, cheeks warming as you placed a hand on your belly. You’d had other things on your mind, distracting you from decorating – another person. Someone tiny, who was far more exciting than Christmas. The bubbly, energetic baby girl in your belly who already mattered more than any holiday ever. 

As you drove to the mailing office, you went ahead and began playing your favorite Christmas playlist for the sweet baby. Well, and for you. Most importantly, though, you wanted to introduce her to the holiday music because you knew how it warmed your heart. And, you figured it would only aid in making her feel just a little more cheery in her little temporary home. 

Though, when Donny Hathaway started singing about this Christmas being a very special Christmas, you realized. . . you were a little upset you’d forgotten about decorating. Christmas was your absolute favorite. The term ‘pregnancy brain’ was real as hell. So, before you forgot, you mentally jotted the additional task to the busy day: dig out all of the Christmas boxes and set them up as warmly as possible to welcome in the holiday. If anything, you wanted to enjoy the decorations for the next few days. It would be something. 

When you got home, some guilt set in (shocker). You’d had time to sit with the fact that you’d spaced out on Christmas and you didn’t have music to distract you anymore from your thoughts. If you’d forgotten to decorate now, how much worse would it be when you had an actual child to take care of? Would you forget Christmas for her, too? The thoughts were hastily becoming a dumpster fire of doom. 

But, rather than sitting on them, you did what Gia might tell you to do. She would tell you to feel it, yes. But, she’d soon say to find somewhere to turn your negative energy into positive. Just like you had always tried to do with music. Out with the negative, reach for the positive.

So, you did just that. But with decorations. You decided you’d dig out any and all Christmas decorations you could find in your apartment. Got right down to business.

After feeding Stevie, you immediately went to find the tree. Its box sat on a shelf above the washer and dryer, a difficult feat even when you weren’t pregnant. But, you didn’t let the belly get in the way – you reached and reached until the box was literally toppling down on top of the machines. You were real glad Jake wasn’t home to witness the disastrous sound of the tree’s heavy cardboard box landing on top of the washer and dryer. It was quite embarrassing how uncoordinated you had become.

As soon as you had the tree down, you only focused on getting all of its pieces and parts plugged in. Every single plug connected to the right place, the six-foot-tall tree stood as tall as it could. . . though, it seemed to lean awfully far to the right, rather than perfectly straight. Elsie had gotten it as a hand-me-down from your grandparents when she’d first moved in. It had been weak and flimsy last year, so its floppiness was to be expected this year, too.

But, even if the decoration had seen better days,  you knew you didn’t want to buy another one. So, you were hoping to God that all of the lights worked, no matter how frail the rest of the tree was. Though, as soon as you plugged it into the wall. . . Your hopes of not having to buy another tree were dashed. Half of the lights did as they were supposed to, shining so bright and looking like the spirit of Christmas. . . while the bottom half of the tree was bleak and void of any light whatsoever. Lovely.

But, rather than throwing it away, you’d decided to pack it back in its box and lean it against the wall. Even if it didn’t work, you weren’t going to part with it until you knew Elsie didn’t want it. It had been a whole event every year for the two of you to put it up – memories you held very close to your heart. Now wasn’t the time to think about that though. Not when you only had six days until Christmas and your apartment was bare of any Christmas anything. It was straight up depressing and you were not going to have that. 

So, after slipping your shoes on and grabbing your keys and belt bag from where you’d basically just taken them off, you bundled up in your coat. And off to Walmart you went. 

The smell of cinnamon pinecones overwhelmed every last sense in your body. Even without being pregnant and overruled by your senses, the smell encompassed magic. But as a pregnant lady? It was a thousand times better.

And the sound of Nat King Cole singing of chestnuts roasting on an open fire as you browsed the Christmas trees. . . It all felt so enchantingly melancholy. The feeling of Christmas, one of your favorite feelings in the entire universe. Most of your blissful memories had happened at this time of year, growing up. . . it had also continued to be that way as an adult. Tightening your coat around you, you felt cozy with the feeling of it all. The best time of year. 

But, sooner than later, your heavy, black peacoat was unbuttoned and coming off, the heated air in the superstore making you slightly sweaty. Felt claustrophobic. The sweatshirt alone, underneath, was making you overheat. Once you’d taken your coat off and thrown it over your arm, you continued tapping your foot against the cement floor in Walmart’s Flower and Garden department. After a few minutes of perusing, you heard an old crickety voice behind you. The small, frail voice was asking if you needed help with anything. And, when you turned around to answer, you were met with a familiar face.

The same old woman from the day you’d bought the pregnancy tests. Her name tag, the same tattered one from months ago, confirming it. Wanda.

With one more swivel of your body, you were able to show her your entire self. Her face lit up a little as she observed you fully, her mouth widening into a smile as she glimpsed your belly. She scooted closer and placed a gentle, wrinkled hand on your round belly. Where you would normally retract at the non-consensual touch, you instead just smiled fondly at the old woman. 

She was familiar. The obnoxiously floral perfume with hints of artificial rose that had once made your stomach churn was a comfort to you in the moment. You sort of felt indebted for her. . . Enough so that you wanted her to appreciate the baby with you. She awed and cooed. And when she asked how far along you were, age-old, glassy eyes sparkling when you told her you were eighteen weeks, you wondered. . .

“Do you remember me?” You asked, brow raised with a little quirk of your lips.

She looked up at you, the hunch in her back making it impossible to stand at full height. Her expression was pensive once she’d locked eyes with you. Her eyes trailed over your face. “Well, fiddlesticks. . . I’m not placing you, my dear,” she said in her aged tone. Sounded crinkly and worn — in the best possible way. “I’m sorry. I just deal with so many people every day. Been here for so many years! When was it that I met you, honey?”

“About 10 weeks ago,” you replied, watching for any realization to hit her. But, when you saw her squish her magenta-colored lips in thought for a second too long, you knew you’d have to explain further. “You helped me realize I needed to test for pregnancy. I’d come for tampons. Thought I’d started my time of the month. But you put the thought in my head that convinced me to test.”

She immediately brightened, her mouth opening wide in wonder and merriment. “Well, I’ll be darn-tootin’!” She laughed, placing two fragile hands on her equally fragile hips. “A bit of it’s coming back to me, honey. Good-ness gracious. How’ve you been?” She kept her hands on her hips, smiling up at you with a little giggle that reminded you of your Grandmother’s. “I see it was a good idea to test, hm?”

You joined in on the spurt of laughter, placing your free hand on your belly. “It sure was, Wanda,” you shook your head. Your hair, sleek and straightened, brushed against your cheek. “I’m just grateful you mentioned it.”

“Bless your heart. You would’ve found out sooner or later, babydoll,” she winked, messing with the front of her hair. Her nails, long and manicured, were the same color as her bright lips.

You felt so warm at seeing her again. You could’ve kept on with her for hours. Though, due to the winter season, it was already pitch black outside at seven in the evening. You were already yawning — got very sleepy very easily these days. And you still had to get this errand finished so you could go home and decorate. All of the decorating had to be done tonight. You were determined. But, right now. A tree. You had to find a tree. The perfect little tree. And — well, maybe you’d be able to spend a few more minutes with her if she helped you find the tree. That would make your night. 

“Wanda, if you’re busy, you don’t have to. . .,” you started, crossing your arms in front of you, coat over both forearms. “But I could definitely use your help deciding on a new tree. Mine is shot and I’m in desperate need of a new one.” 

“Why, I’d be glad to, sweet pea.”

Wanda had helped you decide on a five-foot-something tree. It was a green, artificial tree. It had the option for multi-colored lights or white lights, which was wonderful. Perfect, honestly. Exactly what you wanted in a tree. And it had been a highlight of your week to decide on it with the white haired woman.

You’d splurged a little and got a slightly nicer one, taking the other one dying as a sign that it was time for you to buy your very own. One that was yours and not a hand-me-down. Anyways, it was best to do it now, anyway. That way, next year, you wouldn’t be trying to juggle a baby whilst also searching for a new tree. But what you hadn’t thought through was getting it up the stairs. While pregnant. Without any help. 

So, here you were, a six-foot tree in a box, hefty as hell. The handle of the box, cutting into your grip with the weight of the box. Your hips, suddenly aching something terrible. For the past week, it hadn’t taken much for them to get sore and achy — usually after working on your feet for hours at the B&G. And today, you'd had so many errands. . . Your body was feeling it. 

So, the tree was the last thing you wanted to deal with when your body was already feeling the abnormal pain (normal for pregnant women by this point in the pregnancy, but new for you in yours). In the present moment, it was the worst concoction of factors, the box tempting to slip from your hand for the thousandth time. You did your best to keep your balance with your constantly changing body and the tree in its box, fighting each other for power. 

You kept thinking how ill-conceived the plan was — doing this shit on your own. . . The tree was definitely too heavy for you. But you hadn’t wanted to burden Jake with the task. He wasn’t even home yet and it wasn’t his job to fulfill these tasks for you. And, for all you knew, he’d be in Queens until the wee hours of the morning due to show-related things. You didn’t know how long he was meant to take.

One hand was bouncing between your belly and the metal railing as you trekked up the steps. One at a time, making sure to keep the baby safe, just in case. In retrospect, at best, this was a hare-brained attempt at being productive. It was dangerous to try to juggle the tree and your growing, unsteady body. If you were to fall down several stairs, what the hell was your damn hand going to do to keep the baby unaffected and well? 

But, you didn’t have time for that thought to fully pass through your brain as the box started doing what you feared. It was tilting towards the bottom of the stairs — just as you’d made it to the fifth stair from the top. So. Close. Fuck.

It was weightily tipping downwards, pulling you with it. A complete imbalance of gravity and equilibrium. Your feet weren't as stable as they could have been. Only one foot was on the fifth step, the other one still on the step prior. Moving didn’t seem an option. There was no telling which foot was going where if you did try to move. It didn’t matter. If you moved up a step, you were going down. If you moved back to the prior step, you were going down. There was no winning. 

So, here you were. Stuck in limbo. A substantially-sized tree in your left hand threatening to make you fall down more than a few stairs, and your right, going back and forth between the hand rail and your tummy. 

Finally, you got the nerve to try and move up – decided you were going to try to make it. Just had to believe you could. . .

Though, as soon as you tried, your foot that was shifting upwards did not agree with the tree box on the opposite side of your body. And so, you started slipping backwards. You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to grab your belly or the railing, but at the last minute, you decided the rail would probably be best. If you hung on to the rail, you wouldn’t fall. And if you didn’t fall, your baby would be okay. 

But, still, your hand was too sweaty to hold on as tightly as you needed – and your mind frazzled and stilled all at once. 

Thankfully, though, at the last minute, you gained just enough traction with the small, singular dry part of your hand. And you didn’t fall. You held tight to the railing and leveled yourself just enough to put both feet on the next step up. But once you were there, you decided that you didn’t want sweaty hands any longer. You’d rather them just be dry to avoid any more risks. 

You put the box down to stand at your side (momentarily wondered why you didn’t just let it fall, it being the main nuisance), wiped your hands on your leggings. Once you put the box aside, you realized the pure, unadulterated relief in your shoulder at not trying to hold a box that was undoubtedly way too heavy for you. In fact, you suddenly realized how very drained you were – it had been a long day. And you felt so damn overheated, in your sweatshirt and thick coat, despite the cold temperatures. So, grabbing both hand rails the best you could, you leveled yourself well enough to sit down beside the tree. 

The box stood slightly wobbly next to one of your throbbing hips as you situated, comfortably as you could on the rusted, metal step. With a huff, your hair billowed out around you with the harsh breath; you pulled the box closer to you. With a firm push, most of its weight leaned against the step behind you. You wedged your hip into the box, gaining some momentary pressure to relieve the tender flesh at the top of your thigh. Slipping your eyes closed, you went to lay your head against the box for a little rest. Better to do that than possibly faint or some shit. Because, if POTS really was truly what you suffered from, that shit was very possible. Fainting was most probably what had happened to you the night you went to the emergency room. So, best not to push yourself tonight.

But just as you went to relax, you heard the telling signs of someone else walking up the stairs. Drowsily, you opened your eyes, head still leant against the box, to find Jake climbing, two steps at a time towards you. His face said he was less than pleased and you instantly blanched at that.

“Why the fuck do you look so pissy?” You challenged with a betraying yawn, masking the irritability in your tone, making your body jerk a little when you let it out. 

With his presence, you were loosening more and more by the second; feeling much more at ease with him being home. You were not irritated at all – even if you sounded otherwise.

“Why do I look ‘pissy’?” He replied with a little laugh, eyes huge as he glanced pointedly at the box before looking back at you. “What the fuck were you just attempting?”

Rolling your eyes, you stayed in your spot against the box, looking up at him from where he stood, feet taller than you sitting down. But still standing a step below you. Dignity be damned. You weren’t getting on your feet to talk to him. You would fucking sit because you were sleepy and sore. And you didn’t feel like getting up just yet. Especially not when you had a hell ton of stuff to do once you crossed the threshold of your home.

Yes, you were overjoyed to decorate for Christmas – of course. But, the more and more time went by, it seemed like more of a chore than anything. “If you must know, I was attempting to get this tree up the stairs and into our place,” you clarified, another yawn making your eyes close with a jitter that made you feel fuzzy all over. 

“All by yourself?” He asked, a small smile daring to tug at his lips with a tone that still sounded slightly frustrated. He released a yawn to follow yours. You watched his neck muscles flex as you thought of how his vast range of emotions made him a jack of all trades. . . . . Frustrated one minute and smiling the next. . . just like yourself – admittedly.

“Yes?” You responded as a question, daring him to test you. “And? A woman can’t handle getting her own tree up the stairs?”

“Of course you can handle it, y/n. I didn’t say that you weren’t strong and shit. Anything you put your mind to, you do,” he explained, brow raised just enough to show he thought you were being ridiculous. “But should you be handling it?” 

“Why shouldn’t I, Jacob? Enlighten me.” 

You knew you sounded stupid. You knew, just as well as him, exactly why you shouldn’t have been testing fate. It was why you’d been alternating between holding the handrail and your bump for the past ten or so minutes you’d struggled to get the bulky box up the steps. 

“Well, you probably shouldn’t be managing a box that heavy on your own at four months pregnant,” he reasoned, messing with his hair briefly before tucking the hand in his pocket.

There was nothing you could say to argue that. So instead, you planted your feet and grumbled as you stood, firmly resting a hand at your hip to apply some sort of compression to the muscle. You were slightly unsteady as you grasped at the handrail. Okay. He had a point. Fine. 

“Let me finish the job,” he encouraged with a gentle smile, moving closer to you as you found your footing. His face showed that he was still measuring your responses. 

Let him, y/n. Relax.

Once you were on your feet and could see past him, you saw his guitar cases all the way at the bottom of the stairs. He never let those leave his sight for more than a minute. And here he was, patiently addressing you and your stubborn ass, back turned to the instruments completely. As if you needed an indicator that you shouldn’t have given him any trouble over it. 

“What about your guitars?” You pondered, shrinking back into yourself a bit, guiltily. Not looking into his eyes, your line of sight, still attached to the beat up cases. “Do you want me to grab those for–?”

“No,” he raspily laughed, your eyes flashing back to him just in time to catch the sight of his pretty smile. “I’ll grab those, too. Just–let’s get you up the stairs in one piece first.”

And, at that, you turned with a sigh, placing one foot on the next step. You felt him close behind you. Without any warning, you felt his hand strong against your back, supporting you. Could’ve sworn you felt the burn of his touch, even through the two thick layers of clothing covering your skin. Then, his hand was traveling towards your lower back, wrapping around your hip, under your coat, keeping you steady. Your entire body leaned into him, opening up at his touch. . . What sort of sorcery was this? One intended to kill, you were sure.

Then, he was talking, his low, velvety voice in your ear. “Remember what I told you that night at your grandparents’? I’ve had to remind you of it a time or two. . .” 

Damn – he was much closer than you thought. Your skin prickled, longing to fall back into him, to truly feel the voice against your ear. His lips – you needed them to graze your skin. You could hardly register the words, the memory seemed totally faded as your hormones took the front seat. 

“What?” You questioned, still facing ahead. Didn’t want to get distracted. 

“Do you remember how I told you to let me help you? That night we had dinner at your grandparents’?”

Oh. Yes. Of course you remembered that. You’d had a panic attack. He had found you. He’d fixed it — miraculously. How he was able to do that so well, you had no fucking clue. “Yes, Jake,” you groaned, trying to mask the way your heart was hammering in your chest at his nearness and the memory of him being the only one to calm you. 

Just as he was calming you right now. Against your will.

“Well, that applies to this and everything else as well,” he said, as your foot made it to the very top of the staircase. His chest momentarily pressed to your back, as your breaths came heavy. “I always want you to let me help you.”

There was nothing you could say with how your head was floating. “Okay,” you responded with a choppy breath. 

But you were moving away from him before you could feel anything else. It was bound to be a long night if you let yourself give in to him in any way. You could let him help you with the tree. Christmas decorations, even, if he wanted. . . You could let him help you put those up in your shared home. But that was it. Didn’t need to let him help with anything else tonight. You couldn’t – shouldn’t. And his chest being pressed to yours only tempted you to act in ways you weren’t supposed to.

Thankfully, he soon got you to the apartment door and then went to grab the tree. You unlocked and opened the door right before he was bringing the tree box through it. You’d waited in the living room, watching every movement of his. And you tried really fucking hard to not pay attention to how he handled the heavy ass tree with zero strain. It was nothing for him. You felt totally normal about this.

And then he was carrying in his two cases, the handle for each in their own gripping fist. But you did your best to put his strength, hands, and fists to the very back of your mind. To your relief, he went to change and drop the cases in his room. And that allowed you to catch your breath as you finally stripped out of your too-warm coat. By the time you took off your coat, you were still breathing choppily. . . so, you decided you'd change into pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

You were just so damn overheated. Jake had nothing to do with it, and you told yourself so over and over.

“This shit is fucking scary as hell.”

You looked over your shoulder from your task of placing ornaments on the tree, bottom half first, on your knees. Jake, who’d been put in charge of setting out the other decorations, was holding your Grandma’s vintage, foot-tall Annalee Christmas Mouse Doll. 

The painted features on the felt creature were botched at best. It was old. It had been your Grandmother’s mother’s. Passed down to you and Elsie, who’d been gracious enough to accept. . . But you’d definitely laughed your asses off every year when it came out of the box. It was an heirloom of sorts, but it wasn’t necessarily treasured by the two of you. It had definitely floated around your room and hers, each of you liking to scare each other with it at this time of year. A stupid, hilarious tradition. Because, truly, the thing was creepy as hell. Probably haunted, honestly. . . Joking. Maybe.

“It was my Great Grandma’s,” you laughed, hanging another hand-me-down on the tree. A little gold metal ornament that had once been your Grandpa’s when he was a boy. “It’s been kept around for too many years to try to hide it and be rid of it now.”

“Well,” he started with a laugh in his voice. “I am going to maybe place it somewhere not so visible to the naked eye. . .”

The giggle you let out was easy and made you feel so full of light as you placed another ornament on the tree. 

“Have you eaten tonight?” He asked you with a grunt as he wedged the mouse next to the TV stand. (You didn’t focus on his little noises at all.)

“Yes. Just some fast food,” you sighed as you reached to the back of the tree, trying to reach from your knees. When it hung, you blew out a breath. Your body was so worn from the past few days’ energy and emotions. “But the baby was craving it. I simply can’t be blamed for the unhealthiness of the choice.”

His chuckle at your response made your heart speed and your palms sweat. You ignored that bodily response, though, as you listened to his velvet-laced response. “As long as you feel full. That’s all I care about.”

“I do,” you grinned, continuing to stay focused on your task of the tree to keep the moment from getting to your head. “Promise.”

Saying the last hour had been wondrous with him would be an understatement. Being with Jake like this – just hanging out and putting up Christmas decorations – it was what your fantasies were made of. You loved being with him and domestic tasks like this made your heart pinch and glow, all at once. He hadn’t taken very long to get changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt. And when he’d emerged from his bedroom, he'd instantly offered to get boxes down if you needed. He’d wanted to help you with all of the decorating. To which, you had externally, appreciatively agreed. But, internally, you’d ecstatically and enthusiastically agreed. 

It was blissful — just the two of you, decorating your home for Christmas. You’d already started fluffing the tree before he came out from his room, but as soon as you said you were good on boxes, he’d opted to help you complete your task. Though, you hadn’t allowed him to help for too long, considering every single time he rounded the tree and came up on the same side as you to help on stretching out the branches above you, he was behind you. Nudging your back end with his front and a little too close for people who weren’t supposed to be that close. 

Aka: his crotch had touched your ass repeatedly. And, you’d absolutely felt his dick against you enough times that you weren’t going to survive the night if he didn’t find a separate task.  

So, you’d quickly delegated the rest of the living room to him. The kitchen counter, too, if he felt the need. And he had. The bartop counter had two of your smaller, light-up table-top Christmas trees on either end and a few small vintage reindeer at their bases. That had been his first mission, and he’d impressed you with his skill. After a few minutes of that, he’d used the rest of his time to set up the entire living room. He had hung some garland and additional Christmas lights above the double-paned living room windows, too. It had made your heart flutter when you’d noticed his intentionality at hanging twinkle lights amidst garland there, as well as a few other places in the room. 

You vaguely remembered the night he moved in and how much of a snark he’d been about your twinkle lights. 

“You need to give this a chance, Jake,” Josh had sighed, his body move slightly from where you laid against him, feigning sleep. “She was so kind to offer her apartment to you.”

“I’m not oblivious to that, Josh. Jesus,” Jake had sighed, sounding so similar to his twin. But his voice had involved a bit of a grunt, as if he’d been pouting. “We are just too different.”

“How do you know the two of you are so different?” 

It had taken a minute for Jake to come up with his answer.

“Well, for one: she has fucking twinkle lights,” you’d been able to hear a couple of bracelets clang against each other, as if a hand of his was waving above you all.

And, it was true then and true now. You did have them and loved them. They brought a cozy feeling with them— especially so at Christmas time. 

The fact that the two of you had come from that night, to now, decorating for Christmas together was too remarkable to not appreciate. . . Yeah, it was complicated. . . But it was something. And it was something you really, really loved.

As you felt your heart heat in your chest at the progression of events, you took one last look at the bottom of the tree, full of ornaments and finished, from what you could see. Then you were glancing over at him as he focused on his tasks. The little grin that hung permanently on his lips felt similar to the way your heart seemed to literally grow in your chest at the thought of him. This felt so right. And, his heart was so evident, now, and you saw it in every tiny thing he did – including his decorating of your home. You were having a moment where you felt a lot of gratitude at the fact that you got to carry his first child. There was an overwhelming joyful feeling, in general, at the moment. The fact that there was a baby on its way that would surely feel so much love from both of her parents — that was incomparable to all else.

Going to stand to get more ornaments for the top of the tree, you had to grab on to the armchair to help you just the slightest bit. Your hips really were not in the best shape as of the past few days. With a huff, you blew back some hair that had fallen in your face. And just as you were about to rise to your feet completely, Jake’s hand was closing in comfortably around your bicep to help you the rest of the way up. It helped tremendously to have the extra help. And once you were finally on your feet, you looked up with a big grin plastered to your lips. 

After tucking some loose hair behind your ear, your lips twitched. “Thanks,” you offered, feeling how pink your cheeks were from your exertion and embarrassment. “It’s my hips. . . They’re really fucking sore right now.”

“I’ve read that’s normal,” he smiled in return, eyes twinkling. “Do you need to sit down? I can finish all of this. Seriously.”

“No,” you shook your head, looking down at your feet where your toes wiggled against the carpet. As was your nervous habit, you smoothed the hair you’d tucked behind your ear. “Sometimes, it gets better when I move. My uterus is just. . . Growing and pressing like a bitch into my sciatic nerve,” you snorted, rubbing at your hips and then your lower back. When you flashed your eyes up at him, he was watching your hands in their movements. The look in his eye made your cheeks blush further. “So, naturally, it hurts. Nothing I can do about it. She’s gotta grow. I’d rather be the one to hurt — don’t want her to not be growing like she should.”

“And that’s why you’re going to be an incredible mother,” he mentioned, using one thumb to delicately skim hairs back at the edge of your forehead before he tucked the hand in his crossed arms. Even as he seemed to realize he maybe shouldn’t do something so soft, his eyes never left yours. Something flashed behind them. “You already are the most incredible mother.”

“I don’t know about that,” you disagreed with a small, self-deprecating laugh. 

“I do, though,” he seriously stated, not letting you argue. His lips quirked as he winked. “And don’t say I’m wrong, Little Miss Know-It-All.”

You scoffed, reaching forward to slap one of his arms, a laugh lighting up your features. “Shut the fuck up.”

He laughed and jokingly rubbed at his arm as both of your hands went back to holding your lower back. “Why must you hurt me, you wild, crazy, beautiful woman?” Beautiful. 

“Wild and crazy?!” You squeaked, another giggle falling from your lips. “As if I’m a damn chimp or some shit. You’re on a roll tonight, Jacob Thomas.”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he smirked once more, reaching a hand up to your face again before apparently deciding against it and instead brushing back his own hair. Your heart twinged in your chest. “Not about the beautiful part. You are always beautiful, but you’re only sometimes crazy. Wild, though. . . I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Wild can be good. And you’re good wild,” his smirk loosened as his eyes went a shade darker with a wink. 

Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean, you ignored. “Okay,” you rolled your eyes, your chest heating. (Because, you knew he was flirting. Right? What else could he be implying?) Turning from him, you went to bend down and grab more ornaments before deciding that wasn’t the best move. “I don’t know why I’m trying to bend down.”

Without having to be asked, he was already in front of you, picking up the ornament box and sitting it on the armchair for easier access to you. “I, too, do not know why,” he chuckled, tucking hair behind his ear. You appreciated the view of his ass, from him bending to now standing in front of you, facing the tree. “The tree looks fantastic, honey.”

You snapped out of your daze just in time to not be caught. His head turning and big brown eyes, looking back at you right after you’d let your line of sight meet the back of his head. With a flush, you shrugged before looking at his work to return the admiration. He’d really done a wonderful job. 

The counter was done up with the trees and deer, but he’d since added a few Christmas picks you’d purchased from Michael’s a couple years back. They added some movement to the scene since you last looked. Garland and multi-colored lights were carefully braided together, above the windows, woven across the entertainment stand, and under the TV that sat atop it, on its pedestal. He’d tucked some tinsel in there as well, along with a few small, vintage ceramic angels, deer, and Santas you and Elsie had thrifted. The foot-tall creepy ass mouse was tucked towards the far corner of the living room, yet still on display — kind of. You internally laughed at that, a grin gracing your lips once more at the ugly hand-me-down. He’d even gotten the Christmas pillows out and placed them on the couch, balanced out to add something to both ends of the couch. 

And the armchair held a sweet little Grinch stuffie that had been yours for a long time, his green having lost most of its vibrancy from time and wear. And next to your faded Grinch sat Elsie’s equally worn out Frosty the Snowman. Tears gathered in an instant at how much care he’d shown to the living room. He’d handled it flawlessly and it made you so excited to be raising a child alongside him. If he was so intentional with things like this, you couldn’t begin to imagine the father he’d be for your little girl. And the tears weren’t helped by the emotion at the sight of the two stuffed animals. It was all the perfect storm of feelings in your extra-hormonal, uber-emotional state.

Your first Christmas living with your grandparents, and away from your mother, you’d gone to all of the major chain stores with your Grandma and Grandpa to look at all of their decorations. Kohl’s. JCPenney. Macy’s. You’d never shopped for decorations before that. Your mother hadn’t cared to introduce you and your sister to anything of the sort — hadn’t ever decorated her own place (as if she ever had her own for long enough). So, it was a tradition they’d lovingly started with you and Elsie to get your mind in happier places. 

Grandpa had picked the Grinch for you at JCPenney and Grandma had picked Frosty for Elsie at Kohl’s. 

The tradition was much like the one your Grandpa had started with The Nutcracker. Difference was, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone shopping with your grandparents. Life was so damn busy. Ironically, though, your sister had texted you to remind you of The Nutcracker on your way home from Walmart tonight. She’d let you know that Josh and Grandma would be accompanying you, her, and your Grandpa this year.

And she’d told you about an extra ticket – had asked if Jake wanted. . . Damn. This was one of those moments you were glad your memories had been triggered because your pregnancy brain would have let you forget to ask him until too late. Much like you’d almost forgotten to decorate for the holiday. You swiveled on your heel to regard him. And when you tried to speak, you realized your throat was still clogged with tears. Blinking away what was left in your eyes and sniffling, you showed him a smile just as his brows furrowed with worry. 

“I can fix whatever—.” He started, moving towards you carefully. 

And at the same time, you spoke with gratitude painting your tone. “It’s absolutely exquisite, Jake,” you lifted a finger to flick away a stray tear from below your left eye. “I can’t explain what it means to me. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to help. It’s our house,” he stepped towards you as he spoke. “And I want to show you how serious I am when I say I want to help you with everything. From before now, to now, and as long as you’ll let me. We’re in this together.”

Your heart leapt into your throat more and more, the closer he got, now housed directly under your chin. And when he stood directly in front of you again, his cologne deliciously infiltrated your senses. You wanted to close your eyes in bliss at the prominence of the amber and sandalwood, the gentle hints of vanilla. . . but you controlled yourself. 

You were able to control yourself when you remembered the offers to be there were all about the baby. Obviously. No sense in getting all weird and hormonal like it had to do with you specifically. You shook your head of the thoughts and straightened your posture the best you could. With one hand on your lower back and hip, you placed the other on your growing belly.  

“You’re going to be an incredible daddy,” you insisted, eyes wet again in spite of yourself. “I’m so glad she has you.”

“I’m learning from you how to be present for her,” he smiled, his own eyes sparkling with an unshed tear. “So, thank you.”

Fuck. Why did he have to say things so—? Ugh. Your heart hurt, right along with your hips. And, as if on cue, a particularly sharp pain shot to your hips and pelvic area. You needed rest — your body needed it — didn’t have time for an onslaught of emotions. 

“Don’t thank me,” you laughed to downplay it all. Had to move on. “You are doing that all on your own, Jake. Give yourself credit for your efforts.” Why were you going on and on? You needed to shut up and get the tree finished. Thankfully, before he could say anything else emotionally taxing, you remembered what you needed to tell him. 

“Weird question,” you started, a little laugh in your voice to try and seem less anxious at the prospect of asking him this. “But would you be free to go see The Nutcracker with my family and me on the 24th?”

His expression quickly went from a soft fondness to subtle remorse, brows crinkled and eyes casting down. “Well. . . I actually leave for Maya’s family Christmas on the 23rd. I can’t remember off the top of my head how long we’ll be there. . . All I know is I should be back in time for Christmas. She’s got all of it planned out. I’m just along for the ride,” he ran a hand through the front of his hair. His eyes were apologetic when they found yours, but you didn’t dig much deeper than that. “I’m sorry I can’t go, honey.”

No matter how apologetic his eyes seemed, his tiny smile had been evident as he informed you of his fun plans. Bile rose in your throat at the whole idea of his Very Merry Christmas plans with his extremely stunning, near-model of a girlfriend. Every word of his had sent knives to your extra fragile heart.

“Oh, yes, of-of course,” you stuttered, taking a step back and lacing both hands under your tummy. It was a position which brought immense comfort, you’d found. Because, no matter what, you had her. “Duh, y/n,” you said to yourself with a tiny fake laugh to try and play it off.

It was stupid of you to let his plans hurt so bad — as if you were oblivious to his relationship. . . You knew better than to think he wouldn’t be busy with her. Of course he had plans with her. Why were you so damn stupid as to think he would be available enough to go see the fucking Nutcracker with you and your family like you were the couple? And why had Elsie thought of that idea at all? 

Wouldn’t your grandparents have found it odd if Jake randomly showed up anyway? They hadn’t seen him in months and they had no clue of his importance in their great grandchild’s life. It would’ve been strange. In fact, you were glad he was busy. Right? Wrong, actually. Ridiculous thought — because feeling glad wouldn’t have your throat suddenly so tight with emotion. 

“What are you planning on doing for Christmas?” He asked, not letting your words sit in the air for too long. “I’m sure Elsie will be here, right? I know she was planning on moving back here around Christmastime. . .”

“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat, blinking a few times as you relaxed your expression. Why were you being so transparent? He wasn’t yours. Absolutely nothing new there. Maya had staked her claim. And you’d let him go. Simple as that. “She’s coming back on the 23rd, actually. How funny is that?”

How funny? Why were you talking like that? How was being awkward as ass going to solve anything? God. Be normal, y/n, an inner voice urged. 

“Are you going home to see your parents at some point? I know Josh and Sam have in the past, but. . .,” you trailed, legitimately curious and desperate to think that he wasn’t going to spend Christmas Day with Maya. 

(Which, if you were thinking logically — of course he was going to spend Christmas Fucking Day with his serious girlfriend. So why were you so goddamn pressed about it? It wasn’t your business and you needed to get used to this shit. Besides, when the baby was born she’d have to spend holidays with Jake and Maya’s fam—. No. Not right now. Not that. Nope.)

“Well, my parents are going overseas to see my sister at school. She can���t get away. So, I’ll probably just hang with Maya —or Josh and Sam,” he tried to get the last two names out quickly. With the way his eyes nervously flickered, you schooled your features once more. Didn’t want to give him any more reason to be nervous. It wasn’t your place to feel any type of way about that. “Or all three. Who knows. And I’m sure Danny will go home to see his family, so. . .”

“Cool,” was all you could push out, your gaze going down to your feet. What did one do in times where a heart was so illegitimately broken? 

But, because he was so wonderful, Jake didn’t let the silence last for long enough that you got to the point of crying. (And, yes, you definitely would have started crying if he hadn’t interrupted your train of thought.) “Do you have any Christmas records?” He asked, tone airy and unworried, trying to ease you. (You hated how he could read you.)

Your eyes fluttered to his, interest suddenly piqued at listening to music. And with him. He knew. The empathy and soft smile on his pretty lips said enough. “Oh, yeah. Quite a few,” you replied with the tiniest sniffle, your voice smaller than you wish it was. You’d get over it. And the music would help exponentially if he was actually thinking the same as you and wanted to play one. 

“How about we play one while we finish the tree?” And, of course he was thinking the same. 

“I can’t think of a better idea,” you grinned, your lips pulled into a genuine smile at the thought of getting to listen to music with him again. Just like old times. . . Almost. Because, at the same time, not like ‘old times’ at all. But. . . You’d take what you could get.

You’d finished decorating an hour-to-midnight. But you’d stood together for a while, hands on your respective hips. Both of you were in awe and admiration of the Christmas-y living room. After turning the lights off, it always seemed to hit differently. The Christmas lights twinkled white, red, green, and blue. It was stunning. 

One of your favorite sights in the world, honestly. Had been since you were a little girl sitting in your brand new Christmas PJ’s (a new set every year, thanks to your Grandma), admiring the decorations you’d spend hours putting up with your ‘new’ little family – a finally joyful familial feeling with your grandparents, sans a toxic mother. Every year, you’d all spend one night putting up decor. And, afterwards, you and your sister would sit on the ground next to the tree and drink hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows as you watched the old-school, animated Grinch. Your grandparents, always sitting behind you both on the couch to enjoy the moment in their own little way.

You told him as much as you felt a wetness grow at the corner of your eye. And with a sniffle, you turned to face him to tell him goodnight. The emotions were aplenty and you didn’t need to exhaust him any further either. But, before you could say anything to wish him a sleepy farewell, he asked if you wanted to do that this year. With him. He then rushed to tell you that he’d understand if you wanted to keep the memory sacred to past times. But, you hadn’t a thought of denying the idea as you readily and excitedly agreed to the idea. 

More time with Jake was never a bad thing. It was ever-welcome and your favorite time spent in the world. (Yes, you’d come to learn that you enjoyed time with him even more than anyone else – including your family. It was a really fucking scary and vulnerable thought — you liked to ignore it on a regular basis).

He smiled wide before putting you in charge of getting the movie set up as he went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. And once he finished, he joined you with two Christmas mugs full of hot cocoa, to watch the Grinch. When he reappeared to find you curled up in the couch with a blanket, he hadn’t made any sort of move to sit at the other end. No, instead, he’d handed you your mug. At which, you’d taken it in one hand with a sweet thank you before you used the other to lift the blanket you’d laid on top of your legs, without a second thought. And, just as soon as you’d had the idea to lift the blanket, he’d naturally settled in the place you created for him. Right next to you. Under your blanket. His hip, pressed to yours. 

But that hadn’t lasted for more than a minute before he was wordlessly tapping your thighs and then his thighs, gently tilting his head towards his side (you assumed, to indicate you move in his direction). Not thinking much of it, you pressed play and did as you figured he wanted and draped your legs across his lap. And it had seemed a correct assumption since he immediately went to hold your calf (over the blanket). And, with the other hand, he held his mug, which he’d held atop your thigh for the first part of the movie (over the blanket).

At the halfway point, when the Grinch got to his ‘spot number one’, Jake leaned forward to sit his and your hot cocoa on the coffee table. And after doing that, he’d nestled back into his spot on the couch, this time, leaning a bit towards you. His left arm rested on the back of the couch and the other stayed atop the blanket, on your calf. He even tended to some of the Lord’s work and massaged your sore calf muscles, your heart beating ferociously as he reached under the blanket for the job. But, he hadn’t moved to any more skin aside from your calves. This had saved your sanity, as you would have absolutely pounced him, had his hands moved up any further. 

Too soon, though, the twenty-five minute movie was over. He tapped your leg as the last credit rolled, his ministrations on your leg coming to a relaxed halt right before you were moving your legs and he was rising from his spot. And, as he went to the kitchen to wash the mugs, you went about turning off the TV. You folded the blanket you’d shared and fluffed the pillows. But as soon as you were done, you were following him to the kitchen to see if he’d finished. 

Just as you’d gotten to the kitchen, though, he was exiting the area and turning off its light. The two of you seemed to silently agree that you weren’t done with each other, yet. Because you’d taken your sweet time, walking and talking about nothing and everything. Baby-related things and non-baby-related things as you headed to your own bedrooms.

As you finally got to your doors, you were suddenly very delighted at the idea of bedtime. You were working double time for two lives and you were more than tired because of it. The fact that your pillow was waiting just beyond your door made you twist the knob to your room, opening it without another thought. 

With one last look his way and a grinning yawn, you told him goodnight. But, he had one last question before you were able to enter your room. And even with the staggering temptation of your bed and dreamland, you still gave him your full (sleepy) attention. Your body called and responded to him all on its own. You really had no control over it at this point.

“How are you sleeping?” He asked, an eyebrow raised as he stood in front of his own opened door.

“Fine. . .?" your eyebrows furrowed with a little curious smile on your lips, another yawn escaping them. “Why?”

“Well, your hips. . . . Are they—um, keeping you up at all?” he wondered, genuine interest painting his own tired features. You nodded with a silent understanding at his concern. But, you still couldn’t believe he was thinking of that small little detail when it came to your comfort. 

“Oh. . .,” you started, pushing your door open a little further for Stevie as she brushed past your (now well-massaged) calves to enter your bedroom for bedtime. “Well. . .  Yes. But, I’ll be okay for the next few days. Waiting for a spare moment to actually order something. Meant to do it today, but it ended up being much busier than I anticipated.” You laughed with a gentle scratch to your head at the excessive responsibilities of your day. 

Opening your mouth elicited yet another yawn, at which he followed with his own. His cute little yawn made you wish to see the same thing on your baby’s face. “I have a couple of pillows on Amazon that I’m eyeing,” you continued your explanation. “Or, I can always go to a maternity store in the city or something once I do have ti—.”

“I’ll order something for you,” he offered, covering his mouth with a fist as another yawn left his pretty lips. “Just – find what you need and send it to me.”

“Jake,” you replied with a hand on your hip and a stern brow raised. “I can’t make you—.”

“You’re not making me do anything, y/n,” he insisted. “I want to help. Please. It’s my baby causing you the pain. It’s the least I can do to apologize on her behalf and mine for putting you in this position.”

He pushed his door open a bit more to lean in and turn his tall lamp on, which you knew stood directly next to the bedroom door. You definitely watched with lazy eyes as his self-cropped shirt raised enough to show you the bottom of his olive-skinned belly, all the way to his bellybutton. In your sleepy state, the sight of his tummy had your mouth watering. Damn — you needed sleep. . . Now. 

Your eyes made their way back up as you noticed his body repositioning to face you once more. You'd been very nearly caught staring due to your sleepiness, and he had a very good point, so you conceded. “Fine. I will send you something.”

“Thank you,” he responded, sounding mildly shocked. A victorious grin was plastered to his handsome face.  

“Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me, baby.”

Fuck. Baby? Yeah. . . . Smart decisions were not to be made with him calling you that. Your body lit up at the pet name. You were suddenly feeling very ready to do things you shouldn’t, your mind in the gutter with the way your brain swam in a drowsy haze. 

At the late hour, you were on the precipice of delirium. Better to wrap it up. You both needed sleep.

Yet, you still argued. A little flirtatious smirk dusted your lips as your cheeks heated, a brow raising as you tested him. “I’ll do what I want.”

“Oh, trust me, beautiful girl. I fucking know,” he said, his own eyes gleaming with a little mischief. “But. . . sometimes it’s for the best if you listen to me.”

God. His very pointed and authoritarian tone of voice had your chest heaving – your entire body reacted to it. Why was he being like this? But. . .at the same time, you questioned yourself. You had to be fair – was he being like anything? Or were you just imagining things? But, thankfully, another yawn came out of nowhere breaking your little moment and thought. A savior, this yawn.

So, with the teensy bit of common sense you had left in you, you gave him a tiny smile as your eyes went down to the floor in an act of protection over yourself and him. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Beautiful.”

A FaceTime chat with Elsie was the ideal finish to a busy ass day at the Black and Gold. Just like every store at Christmastime, the B&G was notorious for having an onslaught of regulars and newbies come in to buy gifts for loved ones at the holidays.

Thankfully, Josh hadn’t completely phased out of the schedule yet and had been put on the schedule for most of the holiday rush. But usually, you had alternating shifts. You’d manage the second shift while he’d manage the first, and vice versa. And today, your shift had been evening. Making you very tired and ready for bed. 

But, Elsie first. You desperately missed your sister and there was no one else you wanted to vent to at the moment besides your best and longest friend. Who just so happened to be your big sister. 

Makeup and clothes off, your bra had just followed. A sigh of comfort left your lips as you massaged at your sore, heavy chest. No longer trapped. Could breathe. “Forgot to wear my maternity bra today,” you leaned side to side and twisted a bit to stretch your equally sore back muscles. “I got sidetracked by all things baby room on TikTok. And Pinterest. And Instagram. I lost track of time and didn’t have a bunch of time to get ready, sooo. . . I ultimately paid the price.”

“Well, at least your tits look good,” she commented from the phone leant against your vanity mirror, typing away at her laptop on the other end. “Are those giant knockers your favorite part of being pregnant?”

You laughed out loud at that. “My tits?!” You squawked. “Yes, Elsie. My boobs are my favorite part about being pregnant. Not the actual human life growing inside of me.”

She was cackling over the screen, continuing to type away from what you could hear. You’d turned from her to search for a shirt in your closet. “What I meant was your giant ass boobs must be a nice perk with all of the changes,” she clarified. “I know they would be for me.”

“They hurt my damn back like a bitch,” you reasoned, still laughing with the words. “But, yes, they are very nice to look at.”

You found the oversized t-shirt you wanted and slipped the soft, gray material over your head. When the cool cotton landed on your chest, you sighed once more as the comfortability of it set in. The shirt was big enough that you didn’t need to wear pants, but you still put some loose yoga pants on just in case Jake came home before you went to sleep. Modesty was key. 

“Oh, pants, I see,” she commented, chewing on something that sounded awfully similar to ice. And when you looked over to the phone to see her, she was doing just that. Chomping her fucking ice. Ice had always been a favorite snack of hers. Weirdo. “Jake’s home, I presume? Since you’re trying to be all proper and shit with your clothing? Because, goddammit, y/n, we’ve gotta make sure the goods are covered — even though it’s his damn kid inside of you.”

You rolled your eyes at her, tossing your hair up in a quick, loose messy bun on top of your head. Once you were satisfied with it, you grabbed her from your vanity and went to lay against the stack of pillows at your headboard instead. God only knew how badly your back needed it. 

“Elsie, shut the fuck up,” you quipped, giving her a momentary look through the screen. She wasn’t looking. Of course. The one time she’d decided to mind her business was when you called her on her shit. “And, no he’s not home. But he might be soon and I don’t want him to have to see my bare ass,” you said, trying to be cool about it. “I’m being respectful to him and his relationship.”

“Proud of your good samaritanism, sis,” she replied sarcastically. “I know you just love Maya so much and wouldn’t want to break her little heart if her boyfriend got a hard on at seeing his baby mama all nakey.”

If only you knew. . ., you thought, smug in spite of your efforts at modesty.

But you only rolled your eyes with a snort. “Didn’t say that at all,” you remarked, sitting your ass on your bed and stretching your legs as you nestled cozily into your pillows. Adjusting a little, you decided to lay against your pillows and lean on your side to talk to her, holding her in the hand that rested on the bed. “‘S more about Jake not having to be subjected to my fat ass when he doesn’t have to be.”

“I’m pretty sure that man would not care about seeing your ass,” she said smartly. “I think he would gladly volunteer to inspect and explore your ass for hours, sweet thang.”

You ignored that. But. . . it dawned on you that you hadn’t filled her in on the other night yet. 

For good reason, the snickering voice in your head reminded you. Don’t need her getting all up in it. Who knows what she’d say. 

Well. . . you had an idea what she might say. And that was precisely why you’d kept the entire evening to yourself. But you had to tell her about Maya being a bitch at the least. “I haven’t even told you,” you started, making sure she was looking at you. When she didn’t look at you, you cleared your throat. But still. She looked at her laptop instead of you, fingers flying across her keyboard. “I love how suddenly you can’t pay attention when I’m actually talking to you. Now that you can’t spy on my naked ass and make little comments about my titties.”

“Bitch, shut up and suck it up,” she shot back, pausing and looking at you with wide eyes for emphasis, earning a laugh from you. She giggled, too, before looking back at work. “I have to get this article written and sent in before midnight. And it’s almost midnight for me here. I’m almost done. Just talk. I’m listening.”

“It’s not my fault you love to procrastinate.”

“Pot and kettle, babe. Pot and fucking kettle.”

“Touché.”

“Okay, so. . . ‘you haven’t told me’,” she reminded you, sounding very intrigued. “I need to know.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, looking to the side to think about how you’d tell her the bare minimum. “So, we had the guys over for games because–.”

“Sammy got his heart broken,” she finished. “Poor thing.”

She knew about—? Briefly, it dawned on you. . . Had Josh told her anything? Surely not. . . he was so good about minding his business. . . You were almost positive you didn’t need to worry about it. 

“Yeah, so anyway. The guys came over and Maya joined in on the fun, along with Theo — who I’ve kind of been seeing again,” you scoffed, as did she at the mention of him. She knew about his reappearance in your life and wasn’t a fan. . . So you definitely were not going to tell her about that incident in your bedroom either. Again, didn’t need her opinions. “But we were playing this card game and a card was played,” you cleared your throat, turning away from the phone momentarily when you felt your face heat at the memory. Fuck. You glanced at the screen for a second, noticing her still looking away. Thank God. Didn’t need her commenting on the pinkness in your cheeks. “And this card — it put Maya in a bitch ass mood.”

You couldn’t blame Maya, honestly. Considering what had happened right in front of her eyes. . . But. Still. You fucking could for what she’d said about your baby. Josh had validated that shit and everything.

“Which game was it?”

“You Laugh, You Drink,” you answered. 

“Hm. Okay. Which card?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” you looked away, avoiding her.

“Why?”

“It just doesn’t, Els. Drop it.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No.”

“But if Maya was so damn pressed over it—.”

“Elsie.”

The other end was suddenly eerily silent. Hm. Did she know something? She’d known about Sam’s heart getting broken. . . Had Josh said anything to her? You fucking swore if that fucker had–.

“Why are you being so quiet?” Elsie questioned from her side of the call, bringing you back to the moment. “Seems suspicious.”

You snapped your attention back to her. “I’m not being quiet. You are being hot and cold with responses, you fucking weasel.”

“Am not!” She responded, aghast at the accusation. “I’m working. Damn.”

Deciding to put any of that worry to the side, you went on with your story. “Anyway,” you shook your head, reaching to itch your right brow with your pointer. Nervous habit. You looked to see if Elsie had noticed. She was still honed in on her laptop. Thankfully. “She turned nasty about the baby after this card was played.”

Without a second thought, her eyes flicked to you. It made goosebumps rise on your skin. You loved how your baby girl had allies already. “What in the fuck?” She ground out, brows lifted to her hairline. “What did the little cunt say about my niece or nephew?”

I haven’t told her the gender yet, you paused on that thought. Granted, it had only been a few days. But, damn. You felt like you were keeping her out of the loop. How had you gotten so good at doing that? On a dime, you realized you had to tell her the gender immediately. So, you decided you’d nonchalantly drop it. She might end up hating you for the casual reveal, but she’d just have to get over it. 

Looking to the side at Stevie, who rested at your feet, you continued, “She referred to my baby girl with this tone that had me wanting to clock her stupid, fucking–.”

There were no more keys clicking on the other end whatsoever. “Hold. The fuck. Up.”

You grinned knowingly, slowly swiveling your eyes back to the camera. Elsie’s mouth hung open, eyes just as wide as her mouth. “Oh, did I say something?” You teased, looking side to side before finding her eyes once more.

She left the frame briefly and you didn’t have time to wonder where she went before you witnessed her doing a little happy dance behind her desk chair. You laughed along with her, as she ruthlessly giggled on the other end with several ‘I knew it’s’ flowing from her lips. After spending that time briefly skirting around her home office, she was back in front of you, patting down her curls that had gone slightly askew with her movements. 

Her cheeks were bright pink with cheer and her smile lit up every single feature on her face. “I fucking knew it!” She exclaimed before you could utter a word. “I told Josh — told him that I just had this feeling that the baby was a girl.”

“That’s funny,” you perked up, sitting up a little straighter to talk about the new information with her. “Jake just seemed to know, too. Kept referring to her as a her before we even knew.”

“No – now, that’s going to make me fucking tear up,” she said, literally sounded as if she was on the verge of tears on the other end. 

When you focused on her eyes again, you noticed the new wetness. “Elsie, there is no way in hell you’re actually crying right now,” you snorted at her, your own eyes watering in spite of yourself. Your sniffle betrayed you, making her follow your lead and look at you accusingly, brow raised and nostrils flared. “Okay, okay. . . I know. It’s– it’s exciting and emotional. I get it.”

“Yeah,” she emphasized the word with a sniffle, voice wet. “Give me a damn second to feel it all. And the fact that Jake just knew! God. That’s fucking priceless. Oh my god. I can’t.”

You nodded at her words, agreeing wholeheartedly. After giving her a bit of time to sit with the information, she gave you the signal to give her a minute and with a few more tap, tap, taps of her fingers against her keyboard, you heard a swooshing sound from the phone speaker. 

“Okay, work’s done. Article sent. Time to talk about my niece,” she said, each statement stringing from the last with excitement. “My mind is spinning, y/n. I’m quite actually spiraling over here, bitch.”

“I feel you,” you agreed once again, hearing the front door open and close right after you’d spoken. The familiar jingle of Jake’s keys in the bowl on the counter, along with the telling sound of his whistling alerted you to his presence. Your shoulders eased, stress releasing that you hadn’t realized yourself holding. What? You just really liked when he was home at the same time as you. “I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I found out.”

“Was Jake at the appointment?”

“Yes,” you replied, turning her down a few notches to keep your conversation quiet enough that he wouldn’t hear anything by some chance. “And he was very emotional, too.”

“Well of course he was,” she surmised. “Who wouldn’t be?”

You nodded along, not sure what else you wanted to say for a bit. Just wanted to sit in the newly divulged information with your sister. 

“Think of any names yet?” She inquired with a sniff.

Shit. You hadn’t. How had you—? Did this mean you were like—? Were you going to be the same as—? Queue you questioning everything. As always. Did it make you a bad mom that you hadn’t thought of a single name? Rather than sitting on it, you clued Elsie in to your thought process. Out with the negative, reach for the positive. Had to work on that. 

“I haven’t, actually,” you admitted, sniffling for a new reason altogether, gnawing at your lip. Your brows furrowed as you pondered your lack of thought at the name. “Does that make me a bad mom? My mind is the one tripping balls now. God. Elsie.” You felt like a little girl, all over again, crying out for Elsie amidst grueling night terrors. 

“Stop, babe,” she demanded from the other end, her tone sharp. “I know what you’re doing. Quit over analyzing. When did you find out she’s a girl? Just a few fucking days ago, right?”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t I have been thinking of names before we even went to the appoi–?”

“No,” she vehemently stopped you. “You shouldn’t have been doing anything that didn’t naturally come to you to do. Motherly instincts and all of that. You know your process. Every mom is different.”

God. Not right now. Not right now. Not. Right. Now. All you could see was your washed up mother laying on the couch. Her cheap, box-dyed yellow-blonde hair. Saw her leaving you and Elsie on the porch. You, screaming at her. Sobbing. Heard her saying obscenely terrible things to you, as if through a mocking tunnel from the past. No motherly instincts anywhere within that woman. Were moms so different if they shared DNA? 

“Quit it, y/n,” Elsie cut through the thoughts in a way only a sister could. Your eyes, full of tears and probably looking terrified, found hers. She wasn’t glaring at you, but she definitely wasn’t playing games. “You are not our mother. Get that shit out of your head. I know that’s what you’re fucking doing right now. Comparing yourself to her. Stop.”

“But, Els–,” you felt a tear leave your eye as you looked away from her. Goddammit. Why now? You were supposed to be happy with your sister right now. “I hadn’t even given a name a damn thought. How did I forg–?”

“You didn’t forget,” she challenged you, forcing your eyes back to hers. You let yourself focus on the familiar fire in her eyes. Let some reassurance sink into your soul from her irises. Something you’d done all your life. Deep breaths. “First of all, you’re only four months along. And second, you have been a fucking fantastic mother already. Hello — going to therapy to better yourself? For her? For your baby? Badass, dude,” she smiled fondly, holding up a fist to show the power in that. 

“You’ve had far more important things than a damn name to think about. And you’ve been thinking about those things. The life-altering, re-wiring of the brain shit. Focusing a hell of a lot of your energy into that. It’s intense stuff and you’re doing it. For her. Our mother would never,” she lectured with a bite in her words. “Never-fucking-ever. You are a kickass mom already, babe. And you are absolutely nothing like the woman who birthed us. Nothing. Like. Her.”

You let the words trickle in one by one. Held onto the words that you could. Desperately tried to cling to each and every one. But, as fate would have it, you lost a few that your mind couldn’t wrap around completely. But you’d found a chosen few to hold in your mental iron fist. They helped your mind slow down. Elsie had a good fucking point. She always had the right words. This was stuff Gia would tell your ass, too. ‘For her.’ You were doing things for her. More important than a name. For. Her. Those words made your breathing come the easiest and your eyes dry enough that you didn’t have to fight any more tracks down your cheeks with the tips of your fingers. 

“Thanks, Els,” you muttered, one more sniff had you clearing up to nearly normal again. “Your words always hit different. I needed them.”

“Well. You’re welcome,” she replied, full of ease. “I wish I could hug you, too. But you’re just going to have to hang on to those words for the time being. Hugs to drive the point home – coming soon.”

“It can’t come soon enough," you softly said, yawning with the word. Long ass day. 

“Agreed. Anyway, so. Names. Let’s brainstorm,” she offered. 

“Els, I really have no earthly clue. I haven’t thought about it,” you laughed, coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t completely terrible for not thinking of one yet. “Don’t even know where to start.”

“Has Jake brought any up yet? That might help to get your wheels turning.”

“Nope,” you shook your head, looking towards your cracked bedroom door to maybe catch a glimpse of him. The slit in the door didn’t offer you anything. Too small. Couldn’t try to get an idea of where he was if you tried. “I’m sure he’s waiting for me to say something about one.”

“Okay. So. . .Hm,” she pursed her lips before picking you up and carrying you in her hand to her kitchen. “I need brain food. Chips, of course.”

“Duh.” Chips were her favorite. Right next to her ice. “Saw the ice already. I knew chips were next.”

“At least I’m consistent,” she noted, finding the bag she wanted and carrying them with her to her couch. “Ah, my couch. My beloved.”

When you heard her bag of chips open, you simultaneously heard a record begin in your living room. You didn’t recognize it right off the bat, but you reveled in the feeling that he was playing something. It felt so wonderfully familiar. Like home.

“So. . . let’s start with you and Jake,” she began, crunching on one chip to start. 

“What about us?!” You quickly jumped to realign the conversation, your train of thought having derailed your sense of calm. “I thought we were talking about baby names.”

“Calm the hell down,” she laughed. “I just want to know if there’s anything special that you two share – besides her, obviously – that might lend to an idea. . .” Oh. Okay. You got it now. Wow. You really did need to calm the hell down. 

“Um,” you pondered briefly, racking your brain for anything that would make any sense at all. But, after your very long day at work and minor panic attack, you were coming up totally short. “I can’t think of anything right now, Els. My brain is shit after work today and my mini freak out just now.”

“That’s okay, babe. How about–.”

From a distance, you heard a loud clatter from the kitchen, making you look in the direction of the clash rather than Elsie. 

“What’s going on?” You heard her wonder aloud from the screen.

You sat up completely, but didn’t get out of bed yet. Just minded your business until you felt like you wouldn’t be a nuisance if you went to check on him. “I can’t tell,” you mumbled, bringing the speaker closer to your mouth with the lower level of your voice. 

Following the clatter, you heard a rather disappointed sound from your roommate. He was then groaning rather frustratedly with a long ‘fuuuuuck’. He was definitely upset over something, if his reaction implied anything. So, out of curiosity and an innate sense to help, you got up from your spot on the bed. Of course, you had to take Elsie with you, who was questioning your actions on the way to the kitchen. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked from the other end, her voice holding a tinge of worry. “At least tell me if Jake is home so I know you’re not alone if there’s a fucking intruder.”

“Yes, Jake is home,” you replied, sort of to her, sort of not. Your brow was furrowed, so you knew she’d be asking another question if you didn’t say something else. “He dropped something, I think. Going to see if I can help.”

“Awww,” she cooed from the other end, chomping a chip at the end of the sound for effect. “You’re a sweet little baby mama, sis.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed under your breath at her, glancing at her for a moment before you rounded the corner to the kitchen. Jake was standing over the sink, hand covering his eyes, his mouth in a tight line. Your brow wrinkled more before you sidled up next to him to observe what he stood above. And, there, once again, in the sink. 

The fucking lavender. No fucking way.

A quiet giggle bubbled at your lips, so you covered it quickly with a subtle hand at your mouth. Didn’t want Jake to think you were laughing at him. You weren’t. It was just pretty damn funny that in the span of a few days, you had both managed to knock the thing over and into a million pieces in the sink. “You have got to be kidding me,” you mused out loud, lilting on a giggle. Not able to stop it.

Jake slid the hand down his face at the same time he looked over at you with downcast eyes and raised brows. The hand covered his mouth momentarily before grasping his chin. Irritated, he muttered, eyes fanning your face to search for any hidden sadness. “I don’t even–,” he began, hand moving from his chin to tousle his hair. He was nervous. “I don’t know how – I literally just wanted to surprise you with a new pot for it and. . . well. I managed to break the new one as soon as I placed it on the ledge. I don’t even know. . .,” he repeated the words, shaking his head before he looked back down at the damage. “I try to do a good deed and it just bites me in the ass.”

You couldn’t help the gentle smile that floated to your lips. Still holding Elsie in your right hand, who’d gone completely silent (save for her chip crunching), you put her down on the counter, facing the ceiling, to use both of your hands to grasp his arms and turn him to face you. 

“Jake,” you began, forcing him to look at you with an intent gaze to communicate your seriousness. “It is fine, sweetie.” You chose to ignore the sweetie that slipped past your lips. It was fine. Whatever. “As long as the plant itself is salvageable, we can always go get a new pot,” you softly reassured. “Together. Again. Just like last time.” 

Absently, you reached a hand up to smooth your thumb under his left eye. Right on the crest of his cheek. He was still clenching his jaw, but with your hand on his cheek, he started loosening his features slowly. Bashfully, he looked to the side to survey the damage once more, closing his eyes resolutely before turning to fully face you. With his eyes opened and looking at you again, they were clearer of the upset. He looked more regretful than anything. 

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he muttered, his tone emitting his feeling in a way that made your heart crack for him. 

But you didn’t want him feeling bad for doing it at all, considering you’d just done the same thing. So, you smiled softly and grazed his cheek with your thumb once more. Your other hand, sliding down his arm to grasp his hand. 

“Jake, it’s okay, honey. For one, it’s just a pot. Like I said, we can get another new one,” you tried, your eyes bright and your smile lopsided to reassure him. “And, two, I just did it. We’re both just clumsy as hell, I guess. Shit happens.”

He just chuckled once with a little nod. “Yeah,” he shook his head, turning his face into your palm further. “The one I got tonight was pretty, though. Reminded me of your pretty face,” he gazed down at you fondly, running a thumb over the top of your forehead just once. “I really wanted you to see it. In one piece. Holding the plant.”

Your heart did a little flip in your chest at the comment about your face. And the thought of getting a new pot at all. It was all really fucking sweet and made your heart pound in your chest. From behind you, you absently heard Elsie still fucking crunching over FaceTime. She was spying, you were sure. But. . . you couldn’t blame her. 

Your hand and his stayed clasped together, your eyes sweeping over the other’s face. When your eyes connected, you grinned. “Well, tell me about the pot, then,” you urged, your finger reaching back a little, into the roots at the base of his head. He closed his eyes in satisfaction at the feeling. Opening his slightly tired eyes, he reached forward to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your own ear. Must’ve fallen from your bun.

“It was like the last one. Just a little different. It had the lavender on it, but it was painted with watercolor and it was just really fucking pretty,” he explained, huffing a laugh in spite of himself. The air from it brushed against your hand. “The fact that I’d found another with lavender on it – I mean, this little fuckin’ plant – this lavender is so special to us and you loved the first pot so much that I just wanted to surprise you with a new one.” 

Lavender. Lavender is so special to us. 

Okay, then. He’d answered Elsie’s question. Simply. You knew now. It was obvious. The baby’s name. Even after a long ass day, you fucking knew. It had been right in front of your face, what was special between you two; since that day in the record store so long ago when he’d brought the most special peace offering of all time. 

“Jake,” you began, taking hold of your thoughts and aiming every last piece of energy you had at the sudden topic at hand. The hand that had gone into his hair came down just a bit to rest on his chest as your nerves swirled a little. “What have you been thinking in regards to a baby name?”

“What have you been thinking?” Ugh. No, Jacob.

“You first.”

“No. Mom gets first say.”

“Jake.”

“Y/n.”

You grumbled, playfully squinting at him with a smile pulling at your lips. “Okay,” you began, a new idea in mind. “How about this: have you thought of more than one?” 

“Not really. Just one,” he shook his head with a lip pushed out. The pout turned into a little quirk of his lip. “What about you? One or more than one?”

“One.”

He hummed in reply. The idea was probably going to work. Well, hopefully.

“So. . . here’s a little game we can play,” you pitched, smirking. He returned the expression. “How about I count down from three. And, once my hand is a fist, we both say the name we’re thinking of. Seems pretty damn fair to me.” 

He pursed his lips, pondering, then nodded in resolution to the plan. “Alright.”

“Alright,” you breathed, smile wide. “I’m going to count on my fingers and when I reach a fist, that means you say it.”

“And you, too.”

“Of course.”

So, with that, you made the hand that was already against his chest into three fingers so he could feel your actions without having to look away from your gaze. You wanted his eyes on you for this. And, with each number counted down against his heart, you ticked a finger down. Your wish came true: your eyes stayed connected with his the entire time. You felt his heartbeat thumping under your hand. It was idyllic. Wonderful. Perfect in its symbolism.

“. . .Three,” press, thump. “. . .Two,” press, thump. “. . .One,” press, thump.

Then, there was a fist. And, in unison, you both said it. Lavender.

The tears that sprung to your eyes couldn’t be controlled and the way you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him wasn’t controllable either. Not at all, in fact. And your gesture was reciprocated without a second to spare, his arms so strong and sure around your body. You were still small (using the term lightly, mind you) enough that he could comfortably wrap both arms snugly around you. 

His hair brushed your forearms and you breathed in his cologne. The tickle of his hair against your skin and the warm, intoxicating smell of sandalwood and vanilla. . . It overtook you in a way that made every single nerve ending in your body alight with the brightest flame. The most sparkly feeling, from your head to your toes. All ten. 

When you separated after a rather long hug – minutes-long, you were sure –, you slowly slid your hands down his chest. Kept them flat. Didn’t grip his pecs like you wanted. You stayed mindful of the reality of the situation. But, contrary to your usual bitterness at reality, you focused on a happier real thing. A happier reality.

Just as real as he wasn’t yours, he was. In a sense. Truly. Just like Josh had said, you had a piece of him that Maya couldn’t ever have. Jake’s first child. You were the one lucky enough to carry his first child. To raise his first child. His. The baby was his. And yours. Together. That counted for something. More than any relationship, there was a baby that you held in your womb that you’d made together. And, oddly, the night you’d come together to make her. . . though it was hazy, you found yourself remembering a particular moment. 

The lovely scent of lavender had just begun whirling from the front of the apartment, straight to your room where you got ready for the evening that Jake had intended to ease your stress. Even with the door closed, you’d caught the relaxing smell.

“God, I love the smell of lavender,” your roommate had said from the kitchen where he made a favorite meal of yours, pure admiration in his tone. “Instant serenity.”

Then, another moment. It was Sam who spoke in your memory this time. Same night. “. . .So I chose lavender for its properties to heal and bring happiness. I was also considering its elements for peace, harmony. . . and love.”

And one more moment. An incredibly sentimental moment from that evening. Honestly, it was more tender than your mind could properly conjure. And it had been right before you’d made your way to the bedroom. 

You’d just rounded the corner to the kitchen. And what you’d found made your eyes water so quickly. The sight was so plain, so simple. . .but so incredibly wholesome.

Your whispered voice had broken the dark silence. “Why are you watering my lavender?”

He’d jumped a bit, the tiny, gilded watering pail you’d gotten for the plant, still mid-air when he’d blinked in your direction, his eyes had adjusted to the vast darkness that had flooded your shared home, no light save for the candles. “I was just putting dinner up and it looked a little wilty,” he’d said, sounding a little ‘wilty’ himself. “Have you not watered it recently?”

You remembered. While you’d been so ridiculously immersed in your unreasonable head for those several days, you’d ignored the plant. Foolish. “No,” you’d responded, not wanting to provide an explanation. 

“I understand,” he’d said, a small grin on his lips and honesty in his eyes, even darker in the shadowy lighting. A lone candle on the bar was the only way you’d been able to make him out. “School starting and all. I bet your stress has been high because of that.”

“Yeah,” you’d absentmindedly agreed. But his words rang again in your head, things clicking slower with the pot filtering through your system. “Also, stop telling people I’m stressed,” you’d unnecessarily griped, crossing your arms (partially to keep yourself balanced). “Or sad. You don’t know.”

You’d watched as he’d emptied the rest of the water into the soil, feeling it with his fingers before washing his hands. Then he’d turned to you, his face pinched with shock. He’d shaken his head a bit, his longer waves swaying at his collarbone. “It’s obvious you have been.”

You’d known then that you’d been transparent. As usual. It was something you’d always flourished at– wearing your heart on your sleeve. And that also meant you were shit at masking your emotions. (Now you knew he’d known for the simple fact that he could read you so incessantly well.) You’d wondered why he cared. But you’d known. Truly, you had. Just hadn’t let yourself understand why he cared. 

“Okay, say I have. Still not your business to share,” you’d ridiculously asserted, with a final nod of your head. 

He’d peacefully nodded, pushing his lip out. He’d lifted his hand to his chin to rub it a bit, a sign you’d learned to mean that he agreed. “That is fair. I’m sorry.”

You could still remember your head rocking a bit and you’d shut your eyes briefly to reset. The flow of the remaining green in your system had made you just a bit dizzy. And while you had been ‘with it’ still – totally aware of yourself and your surroundings –, you’d known that it was probably time to go to bed. It had also all become too much in that fuzzy moment in time – the whole ‘talking to Jake like normal’ thing. 

Things hadn’t been normal then. Not for you. And you’d made it so for him as well. It made your heart feel all blue. (Then and now.) As much as you’d missed him–just talking to him, you’d (wisely) decided to use sleep as the reason to excuse yourself. You’d felt the urge to tell him every tiny thing on your mind. You knew yourself too well– when weed entered the picture, there was no concealing a single thought that crossed your mind. 

“I’m going to bed,” you’d said, turning away from him and starting the walk to your bedroom, your heart still with him and the fucking lavender in the kitchen window.

But just as you’d made it to your door, opening it just a smidge, a warm hand had encompassed yours, which stayed twisted around the knob. You could have fallen into him. (Then and now.) It’d always felt so good to simply feel his touch. God, he really was so warm. So safe. So cozy. So Jake.

He doesn’t feel the same for you, that stupid fucking nagging voice had slyly said, the damned thing, having slipped through the thickness of the marijuana. You aren’t those things to him.

Go the fuck home, you’d said to the voice, pissed beyond belief that it had managed to enter your hazy realm of escapism.

“I am home,” he’d said, his voice low and hot on your neck. The feeling had goosebumps immediately, deliciously, prickling on your skin. 

You’d said it out loud. The thing about home. And he’d thought you were talking to him. 

“I was talking to myself,” you’d revealed honestly–crazily. You had angled your head so you could speak over your shoulder to him. And just as you’d done that, it became obvious just how close he was to you. His collar, level with your eyes. 

You’d looked up a bit to find him watching you. Carefully. Warily. But intensely all the same.

Just as he was doing at the present moment. A certain heat against your cheek, adding relief to your otherwise wired brain. And, out of nowhere, the other words that had been spoken that night. . .They were back. For the first time. They were completely, fully, totally back.

His velvet voice had just sent a flutter to your heart, reassuring you of something. . . – something having to do with. . . Maya? Yes. You’d heard the genuine truth behind it then, and the way his eyes had never once left yours. . . His eyes had always said so much more than his words ever did. 

“I don’t want her. I want you. At my shows. In my bed every night and every morning, waking me with your mouth or your sweet pussy. . .I just—goddammit. Fuck. I fucking love you, y/n. I love you. No one else.”

And your next words couldn’t have been stopped if you tried. “I love you too,” had fallen so smoothly from your lips, like the purest golden honey. The purest, truest words you’d ever spoken. 

But. This current moment in time. You didn’t have that with him — in his bed, every night and every morning. . . . Not anymore. A lot had changed. Too much. Too much to even begin to calculate at the moment. Now was not then. Things had been said. Other people had been chosen. And, again, so many things had been said. You talked too damn much. That was just it. 

And, ironically, no matter how sad it made you. . . It was all your fault. You’d changed it all. Because you were a fucking trauma victim who couldn’t even remember half of her trauma. Just knew enough to not allow yourself happiness in the form of the one man you’d ever loved. Because you loved him. It was all because of that. He was too good for you. 

You. Loved. Him.

A voice in your head soothed you. Think about it, y/n. Him. Your baby girl. Think about who is standing in front of you right now. He’s still here, y/n.

God. You shook your head just a bit. Just enough that you registered the warmth again, against your face. A hand on your cheek. Gentle. Delicate. As if managing the finest porcelain. He’d been holding you. That entire time you been lost in the memory, he’d been holding you. His hand, laced up and around the side of your face, fingers at your ear, under it, and in the straggling hairs falling out at the bottom of your updo. 

He was all around you. A piece of him, inside of you, too.

Your eyes grew misty at the complexity of the emotions in your heart. It was a lot. Too much. And in normal Jake fashion, he acted at the most ideal time. In one swift action, his lips touched your cheek. Just his lips. So soft, pressed against your cheek with purpose. Passion. Then, he was leaning away. His hand, falling from behind your head. His eyes were heavy with emotion. But, he still smiled. He looked a lot like you felt. But. That – your emotions – didn’t matter right now. One person mattered. A tiny one.

You placed a hand to the bottom of your belly, looking down at the bump that was hidden by the oversized T. Then, without taking another moment to think, you were swiveling in one take to grab your phone from the counter. When you looked down at your phone screen again, Elsie was a mess of tears. You couldn’t hear her worth shit, and when she let out one rather dramatic sob, you realized she’d muted herself. You snorted at her, shaking your head. 

“Is someone on the phone with you?” Jake asked from behind you. 

Oh, shit. If you told him, he’d know you told Elsie the gender. You’d been so blatant about it while talking to him. And her, right there, on the phone the entire time. She’d been privy to the entire conversation. Would he be hurt? Trust broken? Fuck. The train of thought made you quickly realize you hadn’t told him he could tell Josh the gender. Dammit. You’d meant to tell him that after getting home from Jungle Juice. 

You stopped in your tracks on the way to your room, turning to address him. “Just Elsie.”

“Oh,” he replied, his smile stretching to show his teeth. “Tell her I said hi.”

“I will.”

Even after that, you couldn’t pull your body away. Not with the way he studied you. Lips pursed and eyebrow raised, gaze sweeping over you. His dark eyes, melting into your skin, all the way down to your heart that beat so erratically in your chest. You felt it so heavily at every pulse point.

You loved him. So, so much.

“What are you worried about?” He plainly asked, crossing his ankles as he went to lean against the island, left hand slipping into his front pocket.

“I’m not,” you shook your head, working to just laugh it off. 

“Y/n.”

Ugh. Why was he like this? And why did you really love it so damn much? “I just feel bad.”

“Why in the world would you feel bad about anything right now?” He replied with a rasp of a laugh, rubbing the side of his face with his right hand before tucking it in a front pocket, too. 

Where the fuck do I begin? You sardonically thought, inwardly rolling your eyes at your ridiculousness. You settled on the thought that was easiest to address. “I just–she was on the phone. She knows the gender and I– I feel bad that I didn’t tell you that I was–.”

“Honey,” Jake cut you off. Brow raised, lips still curved into his handsome, close-lipped grin. “The baby—she’s inside of you. It’s your choice to tell who you want to tell and when.”

“But it’s not fai–.”

“It is fair,” he concluded, not letting you argue with him. “Promise.”

He was still watching you, light in his eyes. Ready for whatever you had to say. Blushing, all you could do was grin. “Whenever you want to, please tell Josh the gender. I’m excited for him to know.”

“Okay,” he grinned back at you, the loose smile made your tummy flip. “I’m ready for him to know, too,” he replied with a wink. 

Fuck. Don’t wink at me. Your body buzzed at the miniscule action. Damn emotions to hell. And damn these fucking hormones to the pits of it.

The next evening, Jake kept his promise from Sunday and took you on a little walk. It was a warmer-than-usual December evening, so you wore something almost identical to what you’d worn to yoga. Which, also, had been an uncharacteristically warm December morning. 

A light jacket over a tight top with a sports bra built in (the compression really helped the achiness of your growing breasts) and black leggings. You’d even worn your nice Nikes. Wanted to take the walking thing seriously. 

“But yeah, apparently walking is good practice for pregnant women their entire pregnancy,” he’d started his little topic of conversation a couple minutes ago, as you turned down the block towards the little Main Street situated a few streets away from your apartment complex. “But especially during the third trimester.”

“So you see this continuing, hm?” You quizzed him, rounding the corner to finally place your feet on the little mundane street. “Until the third trimester, at least?”

When you turned, you noticed how the quaint block was bustling. The tiny shops that sat in vintage storefronts, exchanging several holiday shoppers.

“If you’re up for it,” he replied, bringing you back.

You chanced a glance up at him, lips stretched in a wide grin. He was waiting for your eyes, and when he’d caught them he’d pushed his lips together in a cheery smirk. “I’m definitely up for that,” you informed him, tucking some hair behind your ear as you crossed your arms under your breasts. Looking up at him again, you noticed a little smile on his full lips. “Are you? Up to dealing with me that often — by choice, mind you — during the final trimester? I’m sure you know from your readings how taxing that time is on everyone involved. . . I’m probably going to be insufferable.”

He caught your eye momentarily before looking ahead again and you did the same. Probably needed to watch where you were going. “Y/n. I live with you,” he chuckled, a snort following the words. “By choice. And insufferable doesn’t bother me. Seriously— remember who I’m related to,” he laughed under his breath.

You wanted to laugh with him, but you were still stuck on his comment about living with you. Hadn’t really thought about that. He probably could afford his own place at this point — easily — but. . . He was still with you. Hm. You’d get back to that later. “Okay, okay,” you grinned, tucking your arms a little tighter around yourself with a certain breeze.

“Probably wasn’t my brightest idea to start this in the winter months, though,” he cut in, with the wind. “I’m sorry about that part.”

“To be fair,” you grasped your arms tighter to yourself. “Nearly the entire pregnancy takes up all of the fall and winter months. Your idea is great, execution is just impossible to make ideal.”

He hummed to your left, walking on the side closest to the street to keep you safe. “Excellent point.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’m here all week,” you joked, doing the best bow you could considering your walking feet and round belly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at your self-made cringe fest. It just felt right to be goofy in front of him. He was safe. He chortled with you. And you realized that particular laugh reminded you of Josh’s. “That sounded just like Joshua,” you noted aloud, glancing over to see him smirking. 

"Yeah. . . I really can't believe I'm twins with that fucker."

“Oh, I definitely can,” you noted, thinking of their incredible similarities.

Right after you spoke, you were also trying to move out of the way for an oncoming group of men. Ironically, all of them, decked out in Pratt shit. Reminded you of a certain blonde boy who made you want to dry heave. They were too engaged in their phones and conversations to notice you. You moved over, but one of them almost shoulder checked you, still — if it hadn’t been for Jake. He’d wrapped his arm around your waist just in time, bringing you closer to him and out of the way. Your skin heated immediately. The entire interaction instantly made your head so fuzzy.

“Damn,” you breathed out, shaking your head at the almost-collision, your hair brushing Jake’s shoulder. His arm was still around you. “They seemed pretty preoccupied, huh?”

“Mhm,” he concurred, sounding frustrated. His arm tightened around your waist once more before moving down to one of your sore hips. His fingers fanned and gripped the muscle through your leggings briefly. Then he was releasing you completely. Fuck. That’d felt so nice. “How’s school been? Did your semester end well?”

You instantly missed his touch. But, you did your best to play it off, brushing at your front and grabbing your hip to try to relieve the pain as he had. And of course, it did nothing in comparison to his touch. 

“Yeah,” you answered, wrinkling your brow as you thought back on all of the normal stressors with school. There was one thing that had happened a while back that you hadn’t told him about. And his opinion was invaluable to you considering plenty of things — especially this subject. “But, um, about a month ago, my advisor told me something. I wanted to run it past you.”

“What’s up?” He asked, prompting you to look over at him from the corner of your eye. You were glad you did. Saw how closely he was watching you, how seriously he was taking it. Waiting to listen, purposefully walking in step with you to hear what you had to say. It made you feel so special.

He definitely does the same thing for Maya, y/n. Calm down.

Thankfully, that thought helped your mind to recenter. “Do you remember when you brought up the idea of me using my degree to be a lyricist?”

“Yes,” he grinned, his dimple showing for a brief moment. You really liked when his dimples occasionally showed. “I remember. . . everything from that morning.”

Jacob. You were internally berating him for making your insides twist at the memories from that fucking morning. The rain. The music. The sex that, quite frankly, had felt more like making love than anything. Why did it seem to haunt you? And why did he have to remember so damn much? 

“Well, I told my advisor about that. Wanted her input.”

“Mhm?” He questioned with a hum, brows furrowed as he watched his and your feet. His lips, pursed and a finger tracing them when you looked up and over at him.

“She very nearly laughed in my face,” you said, voice holding a self-deprecating laugh at the humiliating situation in her office and afterwards as you’d run to your car. “She told me that it’s ‘not impossible’. . .but, that there was a ‘slim chance’ a label would take me on as a fresh graduate. Which, in hindsight, makes sense. . . Doesn’t make it hurt any fucking less, though. Because I’d really started considering that. It’s perfect.”

“It is perfect for you,” he agreed, looking over at you, his eyes intent for you to understand and a sincere grin that showed his belief in you. “Did she say anything else?”

“She told me that it’s a career I have to ‘prove myself in’ and it takes experience I don’t have,” you emphasized the part about how you don’t have the experience. Just as she had that day; she’d really driven the point straight into your heart. “She’d immediately shaken her head when I said I wanted to do it, too. . . Before she said any of the other stuff. I should have known she’d react that way. I mean, honestly, she had a poi—.”

“I don’t agree,” Jake casually noted, before something caught his eye in a store on your side of the sidewalk. So, suddenly he was stopping at that place, moving out of traffic. You followed him, ready to hear what he had to say. Once he’d gotten a little look at what had drawn his eye, he was facing you again. He continued. “Does the lady know you at all?”

“I mean, to an extent. . . She’s been my advisor for the past four years of college,” you shrugged, scratching your brow. 

“So she’s known you for four years and still doesn’t see the seas of love and pain and introspectiveness in your eyes alone?”

You were caught off guard at his words. He saw all of that in your eyes? “You actually see all of that?” You blanched, not sure how to feel about your emotions being seen so clearly. “I know I’m not the best at hiding how I feel. . . But am I that transparent?”

“Not to everyone, I guess. . .,” he trailed off, rubbing his lip again. Your eyes tracked the action. Then, his hands gripped your shoulders and you had no choice but to gaze into his deep-set eyes. His amber-brown irises, full of wisdom and life. The dark circles under his eyes, an indicator of his hard work in multiple areas of his life — one of them being music. He was the professional in the field, not your advisor. “Y/n,” he continued, his eyes peering into yours, trapping you with his earnestness. “You are highly qualified to be a lyricist. Straight out of the gate. Hell, I believe you could start before you fucking graduate. I don’t have a college degree and I fucking do it. I have a damned label that is actively producing my lyrics.”

Instantly, you longed to hear every song he’d ever written lyrics to. . . You made a mental note to get back to that later. Right now, your heart was pounding in your chest at the idea that you could actually fulfill your dream. It wasn’t outlandish to him. You wished you’d gone to him weeks ago when she said it. 

“So you truly believe a label would be interested in me?”

“I don’t believe it, baby. I know it,” he very seriously began, weighing your reaction by staring so deep into your eyes. His eyes were full of sincere, heartfelt trust in you. “All one needs to write a well-crafted song is heart. And you, beautiful girl, have plenty of that,” he reached out, delicately grabbing your chin between his thumb and pointer finger with the words beautiful girl. Then he was letting go after the tip of his thumb gently grazed your bottom lip. “Just like I said the other night. . . If you want to fucking do something, you’ll do it. It’s just the way you operate. So even if you lacked heart, motivation, and drive — which you most definitely don’t — you’d still accomplish it. You are a badass,” he smirked, nodding. Raised his brow as he pursed his lips. 

Tears gathered in your eyes and a few trickled down your cheeks. He was reaching out and catching each and every one before they fell too far. You sniffled, skin heating at his gentle touch. Your eyes smiled as you observed the man in front of you. God, you loved him. And you loved being able to admit that to yourself. 

“Thank you, Jake,” was all you could muster, his hands simultaneously catching the last of your tears. “I mean it. I’m so grateful for you. Every second of every day.”

If that was too much to say, you didn’t care. Not anymore. Not when he did and said the shit that made your heart trip over itself with erratic beats. He deserved to hear how incredibly wonderful he was to you. 

“I can say the same for you, baby,” he replied, tucking his hands in his pockets. His lips hadn’t turned down once. He felt confident in everything he’d said. You could tell. And for that, your soul finally settled at the fact that you could actually pursue your dream. “Do you want me to talk to a few people? I can. I will — I want to. If you let me.”

Let him, y/n. Please.

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled, shaking your head a bit before reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “You know, though, I’ve never written a solid lyric a day in my life. So. . .”

“Like I said, you’ve just gotta set your mind to it. For you, that’s all it takes,” he winked. And then his attention was taken again by the window over your shoulder. 

He walked further to the storefront to look inside the window of the little bookstore. You turned to observe him, watching in admiration of everything he was. Once he’d gotten a good look, he walked back over to you, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at the window. “There’s something I want us to look at in there.” Us. You loved that word. 

With a little nod of your head, you followed his lead as he opened the door for you. Your body buzzed with relief at the warmth in the bookstore. It was the type of warmth that made you realize just how cold your fingers had gotten.

The evening had settled in and the sun was no longer high in the sky. Your fingers were numb as you rubbed them together and brought them to your mouth to blow hot air against them. Of course, Jake had turned to you at the ideal moment and noticed. Your cheeks flared with heat at the way his eyes zoned in on your actions. 

“Let me,” he offered, coming up to you and placing his hands out for yours. And, semi-hesitantly, you gave your sore, prickly fingers over to him. 

“It was way colder than I realized, I guess,” you laughed nervously to yourself, giddy at his touch. 

Talking had been an attempt to distract your mind from the feeling of Jake’s hands wrapping around yours. His hands were still heated (he’d always been a human heat source), immediately working to loosen your icy fingers in his tender hold. You shivered, more from how close he was — the feeling of his hands around yours so surely. Your lack of body heat had little to do with it. Your eyes went from watching his hands to his face when you saw him bring your hands gently to his mouth. The steady breath he blew slowly on your skin made every nerve ending in your body light on fire. The way his brows dipped in concentration at the action didn’t help matters. He was so intentional about everything. Even if it were just to blow hot air on your trembling fingers. 

Briefly, you thought how he rivaled Josh’s intentionality. . . And that was saying something. 

At the very last second, with one final warm breath against your hands, he looked into your eyes. And the thoughts that swam there were aplenty. You could tell there was so much swimming behind his eyes. . . But what you caught most was the same fire you felt in your chest at the way he was studying you, his lips barely grazing your fingers. Your nipples peaked under your tight shirt as you felt a familiar pulse between your thighs for him. You did your best to focus on your fingers, which were completely alive again. Honestly, you related to your once-numb hands. Jake, for all he was, had helped you come alive in so many fucking ways.

He’s your friend, y/n. That’s what good friends are for. . . Know your boundaries, you couldn’t tell if you were hearing your angel or devil. The internal words were reasonable, but they made your skin crawl. You’re the one who reminded him of them — don’t back down.

Whichever voice it was, you decided you’d better get your well-warmed hands away from him before your entire body set aflame in the little bookstore. When you pulled them away, he flinched for a moment, but fluttered his eyes a few times. And then, he seemed to remember his goal with the store. “Follow me,” he encouraged you with a look over his shoulder, already on his way. You did just as he said.

Once you took just a few more steps behind him, you saw what he’d seen from the street. A tiny little thing. How he’d been able to catch sight of it, you had no clue. But he had. And a very tender part of your heart blossomed for it. 

It was a simple, white oak frame, specifically made for the size of one sonogram picture. Underneath the place for a picture, a little slip of paper was inserted into a slot, meant for personalization. It was precious. So, so precious. A little sign sat next to it, too, indicating they could personalize it for you, if wanted.

He cleared his throat, your line of sight finding him. His eyes were locked on you, measuring your reaction. Your heart pinched as he spoke. “What if we framed the sonogram pictures? We’ll switch them out with each visit as she grows?” 

“I adore that idea,” you sniffed, swiping with one hand under your right eye as a lone teardrop fell. Your hands smoothed over your tummy before interlacing underneath the bump. “And what if. . .,” you began, eyes placed back on the frame as your hands switched to rubbing your belly in small circles. “We put it next to the lavender in the window. I think it would look really nice there, and considering her name. . .”

“Yeah,” he replied, with a sniffle beside you. You watched his hand reach out to grab it from the shelf with a question on his lips. “Would it be okay if I personalized it? For Christmas? A gift for her. Have to do something for her, even if she’s not here-here — yet.”

Oh my god. You were going to crumble. Into a million pieces. He was going to be the best daddy. You went to hold your belly again, catching his eye. To no surprise, he was already waiting, eyes searching your face for an answer. Why did he think he even had to ask? 

“I can’t think of anything better," you breathed with a quiet, serene smile.

December 22, 2022

Tonight was a night you fucking hated your changing body.

Sometimes the insecurities were simply worse. You felt huge and strange in a changing body every now and then and you couldn’t help it. No matter how beautiful Jake told you you were. . . it didn’t matter when you got in your head about yourself. 

Anything related to beautiful effectively faded in your psyche when your brain decided it wanted to shut down. Any other thing he said to make you feel desirable, too. All of it, gone. It was just plain sad. You weren’t always sure about your oversized body. And, right now, you just wanted to feel the sadness. You were emotional and hormonal and pregnant. Very pregnant. 

This week, your belly had definitely  . . .popped. It was suddenly bigger, and you felt like an over-aired balloon. You noticed every little change in your toes and fingers and your arms and your legs and—. Everything. You noticed everything. Though, for like five minutes an hour ago, you’d caught a glimpse of yourself naked in your mirror and felt good about yourself and the way you looked. 

So, when you’d gotten the genius (stupid) idea to try pleasuring yourself, you jumped on it. . . You wanted to take advantage of any self confidence you had that might help you feel sexy enough to find the release you constantly longed for these days. You didn’t often get the vibrator out. . . It honestly depressed you to use it when the one person you wanted more than anything (especially a vibrator) was in the room right next door — and unavailable to help fulfill that need. So. Due to that nauseating fact, the blessed vibrator was all you had.

But, before pressing the power on your buzzing friend, you’d gotten right down to business. An Everything Shower seems necessary on a night you had the apartment to yourself.

You’d gone about self-waxing your nether regions before your shower (yes, you fucking waxed. Even if no one was seeing it, you cared about it and you wanted to do that as well as you could while you still could). And, once under the spray of the shower, you’d shaven your armpits and your legs. And after that, you’d given yourself a stellar shampoo and conditioner scrub, scalp massage brush and all. The body wash you’d chosen had been a new Vanilla Bean Noel you’d just bought at Bath and Body that day, feeling in tune with the holiday season. . .

And finally, after your entire routine, you had excitedly started the buzzing tool. The initial goal in mind for the shower had to be completed. It was an ‘everything-everything shower’. Self-fucking-care.

And since Jake was also gone all night for a thing with Maya, you’d had zero fear of any noises you might’ve made being heard by him or his girlfriend. You really wanted to try and show him some respect in that regard. Wanted to be fair to your previous conversations. And, when you found release, you were not always the best at staying quiet. (And, due to feeling constantly on edge with your hormones, you knew you were bound to get loud tonight.)

Because, really, you hardly ever used the vibrator. So, you knew when you found that beautiful precipice tonight, you were going to be loud. Feeling a little sexy again had honestly come at the perfect time. Or so you thought. 

Because, due to your growing belly and having to balance your heavier, bigger assets, just as you’d nudged the underside of your clit with the humming instrument—You’d fucking ruined it. Right on the edge, you felt yourself begin to flip.

So, you, and your bigger, obtrusive body had tried to grasp for something – anything – to keep you vertical. . . but, you’d grabbed the wrong damn thing in your rush. Because, of course the flimsy shower wrack wasn’t going to hold you up. You knew better.

You’d even shaken it just enough for a few heavy soap bottles to fall with you. To your minor appeasement, the shower water had thankfully stayed warm as you sat and lamented over the failure. The steady flow of the warm water was the only mildly comforting thing in the situation — the only saving grace. It soothed your body. Your already-sore body. The coolness waving in every so often from the other side of the shower curtain had been a bit of a bother, but it wasn’t so bad with the shower water falling on you. And you wanted it cool anyway. The overheat, a constant pal.

With the apartment to yourself, you’d turned down the air to enjoy a slightly cooler apartment. The cool air and warm shower were your perfect combo. . .Well. . . they had been. 

Right now, though? You were fucking pissed that your plans had all gone to shit. Your confidence was gone and you were overstimulated to fucking hell from horniness to now, embarrassment. The anger over the emotions overtook you, making big, fat tears paint your cheeks. You were embarrassed in front of yourself — that was a new low. The extremely loud crashing noise as the soap bottles had come down had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. With everything compiled together. . .it had resulted in you giving in to the few ugly tears, becoming a mess of upset. Sobs wracked your drenched, shaking body. Physical pain was barely a culprit. You weren’t physically hurting too bad–you’d ended up sliding down the wall more than anything, melting to the floor with no motivation to stand back up. 

What you felt now was humiliation. You were lame as fuck — wanted to hide from yourself.

Your night had effectively been ruined. What were you going to do when you got out? Continue to pout and cry over this situation until you fall asleep? Probably. So, you quickly decided to stay in here. Nothing better to do than wash the disappointed, pitiful tears down the drain until you were tired enough to sleep. You figured staying in the shower to finish your cry fest would save some sort of dignity for the outside world. 

“Y/n?”

What?! No. Jake? 

When the fuck had he come in?! You sure as hell hadn’t heard him. Being lost in your thoughts and being surrounded by the noise from the pour of the shower. . . Apparently, you’d canceled out any other noise. Why the hell was he home in the first place?

“I just heard a really loud crash and . . . you were loudly crying. . .got worried about you,” he explained, close enough that you heard him over the noise of the streaming water. 

And, suddenly, you realized you were very much not alone in your pity party anymore. Not that you were ever truly alone anymore these days. A shaky smile lifted your features as your hand found your round tummy. Pissed as your new body made you, it wasn’t the baby’s fault that her mama was insecure as hell. 

“. . .I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Jake finished, his deep, velvety smooth voice making goosebumps rise on your skin.

Your tummy fluttered with butterflies at the sentiment—but it stopped when you got realistic. Your inner voice of humility was a friend tonight and it reminded you of his true concern.

You knew it wasn’t you he was truly worried about. . . The baby was his main concern and you wanted it that way. She mattered most. You didn’t need unnecessary attention. And, the baby was fine. She wasn’t hurt. Her mother was just a fucking clutz. 

“Baby’s fine, Jake,” you sniffed. 

“I didn’t ask about the baby,” he clarified, voice still light. It made your pulse thrum with clarity to his spoken motive when you heard how genuine he sounded. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s got some cushion. I asked about you.”

New wetness sprang to your eyes and your heart skipped a beat. “As long as she’s okay, I’m okay. I’ve got plenty of fucking cushion, too, these days.”

He needed to leave the room and go back to what he'd been out doing with his girlfriend. But the more you spoke, the more you were afraid he’d stay to comfort you out of pity. Your voice alone spoke for you—and you knew that he knew better than to believe you. There really wasn’t any point in trying to hide your emotions from him. 

“Y/n. Seriously.” His voice was getting closer. . . You knew he was making his way across the bathroom floor to you, that certain click of his black boots (you hated that you knew how they sounded when he walked) now noticeable over the stream of the shower. “I know you’re not telling me the truth,” he asserted. 

He was right. You were far from fine. Or okay. Or whatever bullshit you were trying to serve to him on a wobbly platter. But you couldn’t bring yourself to just tell him all of that—you didn’t want to tell him that. If you said too much, you were afraid of contradicting other things you’d claimed in recent days. But he obviously already knew enough to question you further. He could sense it through your bullshit facade. He knew you very well. 

“I told you, Jake. I’m just fine. I know there’s not a lot I can manage for myself right now, but I can fucking shower on my own,” you argued, your voice faltered through your ridiculous, unneeded sassiness. “I don’t know why you’re still here. I can handle this on my own.” Your words were harsh, but you meant them. Really, you did. Seriously.

(Except. . .not at all. You didn’t mean them and you did need him right now. Just wanted him to be near you. You were relieved he hadn’t left yet.)

“Why can’t you just tell me the truth?” He said, his voice tinged with a mix of irritation and legitimate concern. “Why is the fact that you are sad a daunting thing for you to admit?” 

“It’s not, Jake. I just. . .,” you paused, grumbling. “It’s nothing.”

The truth was, you couldn’t handle accepting his assistance. Vaguely, you wondered something. It was a horrendous thought, but you couldn’t help but contemplate if he was only helping this entire time (the walks, the decorating, the water spills, the brownies) because Maya had once told him to help you however he could. 

“Maya–um,” he’d shaken his head a few weeks ago, everyone asleep or close to it after Friendsgiving. His brows had furrowed as he’d messed with his bottom lip. “She told me that she wanted me to help however I possibly could. She wants me to be attentive and helpful in any way I can be.” 

Did she still want him doing that though? Helping however he could? After his slip up on game night, right in front of her? You weren’t so sure after how she’d spoken of your baby. . . Or how she’d spoken of you and Jake, even.

You didn’t know. You were pissed at life tonight. Blame it on the hormones. But any thought of her being involved in his efforts to help angered you to the point that you were tempted to outright refuse his attention just to not allow her the satisfaction that he listened to her. God. . . what the fuck was wrong with you? Your emotions were a pendulum swinging back and forth – constantly.

“You just what?” He insisted, bringing you back to the present. 

The ludicrous words spilled out without a second thought, exposing your tumultuous thought process. “I’m sure you’re only in here to check on me because of Maya, Jake. It's not me that you care about, it’s about appeasing your girlfriend and making sure to follow her rules.”

The words continued flying out of your mouth, as if you didn’t have control of what would come next.  “That’s all that matters to you; her and the baby. Not the person carrying the baby. But that’s okay. I shouldn’t matt–.”

“Oh my god,” he moaned the words, frustration evident in his tone. “We are not getting into that shit. You know how I feel about you — how important you are to me.”

“Yes, but we talked about how she should come firs–,” you tried to reason, but he cut you off.

“Who’s she? Maya or the baby?”

“Both,” you clipped, not even close to seeing eye to eye with yourself. “Both should come before me. Especially your girlfriend right now.”

“I don’t agree.”

You groaned, laying your forehead on your crossed arms, which sat on top of your scrunched knees. The skin of your thighs pressed directly to your nipples. And, with the motion of your forehead, you’d swept over them in a certain way that had you picturing Jake in ways you weren’t supposed to.

“Fine,” you gave him that. He wasn’t wrong, per se. The baby should come first. But. . . It was a dangerous line, considering where the baby was at this point. “But just because she’s inside of me right now doesn’t mean I need your help when I’m hurt.”

“You needed my help the other night when you tried carrying that damn Christmas tree up the stairs all by yourself.”

“I had that down,” you snapped back, your head coming up from your knees with the fibbing retort. “I didn’t need your help with that eith–.”

“Y/n. Are you kidding me?” he argued, one click of a boot heel indicating him coming closer. And it was confirmed when you heard his voice just a little clearer–nearer–than before. “You were not in the position to do that on your own. You could have easily fallen down the stairs, in turn hurting yourself. And thus, hurting our baby.” Alright. He had you there. He had a good point. A solid point.

“Okay,” you said once more, relenting. “I did need your help with that. But right now? I’m doing just fine. Just fell in the shower. So you don’t need to worry about me. We are nothing–.”

“No. Don’t start that shit. If all we are is nothing to you, it’s not like that for me. I know you said that shit the other night. But we’ve always been something and you are something enough to me that I do worry about you,” he paused, another click of a heel. “You matter to me, y/n. Whether you like it or not.”

Oh he was not going to throw those words in your face. Not when he’d said nearly the same thing, almost directly after you’d said it, no less. You’d tried really fucking hard to not think of those words, having enough to try to navigate in your own mind. Didn’t need those words infiltrating. But you couldn’t not think of the words in this case. He was being unfair.

The words “We were never anything. Still aren’t.” and “There’s nothing to be hung up on.”, being spoken in front of you and the entire room of people who mattered to you. Then, he’d broken out in that sudden fit of coughs. That had been alarming – you’d wanted to help him. But she’d been right there, patting his back. Doing her job as his girlfriend. 

And once she’d sated him enough to catch his breath, he’d landed the nail in the coffin with your personal favorite. . .“Y/n and I aren’t a thing. Never have been, never will be.” Yeah, those words–that phrase–in particular still stung like a bitch. You were quite glad you’d shut it out. Except now, it was back. And it was glaring in your face. 

“You are not going to pin those words on me, Jacob Thomas,” you sharply informed him. Dared him to test your argument in this case. “You said the damn same and worse about us to her and everyone the other night. Remember? We never have been a thing and never will be? You made your opinion perfectly clear with those extremely kind words. So, don’t bullshit me.”

It was silent for a few beats. You’d gotten him, you were sure of it. But. . . you didn’t want him to leave. This wasn’t over yet. You still needed more from him. An explanation of sorts if he was so set on you believing one thing and Maya believing another entirely. 

“Y/n,” he suddenly called you back to him, your head turning to look towards his voice. “I’m pretty sure I’ve said plenty of other things to prove to you that isn’t actually true. I just had to get her off my fuckin’ ass. And yours. Especially yours.”

“I’m sure you say the same shit to her,” you bit back, squinting at the curtain that hung between you two. “Say just enough to get her happy and her body loose and ready for you. You just keep opening your damn mouth and let whatever you think spew out of it.”

“Actions speak louder than words, baby. And you know for a goddamned fact the only reason I had to cover with those words was because my actions showed something I do not want Maya privy to,” he explained, making an incredibly decent rebuttal. It made sense. Hated to admit it. “It’s not her fucking business what we had or have and I don’t need her overstepping. So, I lied to her. I fucked up by letting her see all of that and I wish the damned bottle would have just landed on someone else.”

“Is that you saying you didn’t want to touch me?” Childish and pointless to ask, you knew. You were just being a brat at this point. 

“I wanted to lay you down on that couch,” he answered, his voice suddenly lower and raspier. It made your heart race. “Wanted to get you completely fucking naked and have my way with you in front of every single fucking person that could see.”

You were speechless.

“But I was too busy thinking that instead of how thoughtless I was being. As soon as I laid my hands on you, all other thoughts were out the window. I was determined to have you some way at that moment,” his words came smoothly and steadily. As if he’d been waiting to say all of this. “And now I’ve made it harder on you. And now I’m sure she is fucking suspicious of us and I don’t want her on your ass, y/n.”

Still, you sat in silence as you let his words wash over you. . . he wanted to fuck you that night. You weren’t surprised. You’d known how badly he wanted it–how badly you wanted it–but the fact that he’d just flat out taken that risk in front of everyone. . . . (Admittedly, it did still turn you the fuck on to think of it.) 

But it couldn’t happen. It was just getting harder by the second to resist him. Especially while you were already naked (body opening up again, thanks to him). Right next to him. You really didn’t know what to say to that, so instead, you pondered a bothersome thought lingering in the back of your mind. Sizzling on a burner, crackling and popping. 

“How do I know you’re not saying shit like this to her to reassure her?” You sounded all small and vulnerable. You hated it. But, it was unstoppable. You felt so weak for him and it was bound to send you into a sob fest at this point.

“I don’t waste my time on shit like that with her. Anytime I have the choice, I choose to reassure you,” he stated, finality laced in his voice. “You don’t want me to, but I do. It’s you whose heart I want to protect. I can’t help it, y/n. And I’m sorry for that. I know it’s not morally okay or whatever – but shit. It’s you and I can’t help myself at all when it comes to you.”

Before you could ask another question, he was continuing. “Like right now, she is not here with me and I don’t plan on going back to her,” he postulated, truly letting his feelings show. You were equal parts falling for his openness and drawing back at it.

So, you tried to avoid it. As usual. “Where is Maya?” You asked, not sure why you were still set on making conversation about her. You didn’t know why you felt the urge to bring her into the conversation. . . kind of felt an obligation to, feeling like the outlier party no matter his words. 

“She’s not here,” he plainly stated.

“Is she okay?”

“Yes, y/n,” he grumbled, sighing. “Could you just worry about yourself for a few minutes?”

“I don’t want to take you away from her.”

“You’re not.”

“But–.”

“How come you care so much about whether or not you’re nothing to me if I’m nothing to you, by the way?” He interrupted you, causing your breath to catch, calling you out just as you had him. “You said it first that night, kept on later about how we couldn’t be anything. You started the nothing train and I just hopped the fuck on. It seemed like a decent enough diversion; no matter how much it felt like a sword in my fucking chest to hear you say that.”

Dammit. Did you just admit the truth? Slightly? Yes? No? Fuck. You felt cornered by an obligation to be completely honest and you didn’t like that. You wanted to sit and be avoidant, didn’t want to be held accountable for your words. You were just what your mother always called you. Selfish. You couldn’t argue the harsh word at this moment. So, you did the best you could do to explain. Didn’t want to say too much for fear of opening a closet of skeletons. 

“You will never ever be nothing to me, Jake,” you lamented, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You looked at your toes, the water hitting the very tips of them. “The only reason I said what I did was to work around getting hurt, myself. I was afraid of what you’d say to her and I was deep in my emotions because she had been saying shi–.” Fuck. No. You didn’t want to tell him any of that yet. Was not your place. “I also wanted to protect you. Didn’t want you to lose that relationship with her because of a stupid round in a game with me.”

“You thought it was stupid?”

Dammit. There was no getting away from some admittance tonight, apparently. He’d caught you at a really bad time. He’d probably consider it good, your heart opening up to him. But it scared you. 

“No, Jake,” you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you. “Nothing with you has ever been stupid to me. Because you are the farthest thing from nothing to me.” There. You said it. “Feeling your hands on me at all makes my entire world stop in an instant. It’s intense, incredible in a way that I can’t explain without–,” you got choked up on a sob that threatened to bubble up. God. Stop, y/n. “So. Please just accept that and move on,” you ended your mini admission with a sigh, a few tears trailing down your cheek. “Maya matters most, next to the baby. Period. And you need to be with her more than me at the moment–at most moments.”

He was silent for much longer than you would’ve liked. It made you feel a little bad that you’d accused him of not caring in the first place. You’d started the topic of conversation by calling him out, arguing with him when it wasn’t supposed to matter. 

“What do I need to do to convince you I feel differently?” He spoke, his voice more earnest than before. “I’ve tried, y/n. I’ve tried to tell you that I care about you, you just won’t listen. You refuse to believe it. I’m here because I want to be. That’s it. I’m not going back to her tonight. I’ve already made up my mind. Not while you’re in the shower crying.”

You heard him take a few more steps closer. You knew he stood just inches away from you, and the only barrier between him and your naked body were the thin shower curtains. A familiar sensation continued to blossom in the pit of your stomach, a swarm of butterflies that always seemed to flutter to life whenever your body had a certain urge to be with him. An unmistakable rush of desire, need — a craving for him that coursed through your veins. You didn’t know why you kept pushing him away when all you wanted was to be near him. . . so badly. The baby needed stability, yes. . . but she wasn’t here yet. And you didn’t particularly care for Maya enough to protect her heart. Stupid ass Theo was a non-factor. . . ick.

The biggest thing standing in your way, still, was a stupid trauma response. Your fucked up brain telling you that he didn’t care – couldn’t care – for you. Problem was, you didn’t know whether to believe it or not. Who did you believe? Your brain, your heart, or Jake? Who was in the right? You knew that you selfishly wanted him near, no matter if he cared as much as he said or not. . . And anytime you pushed him away, you hated yourself for it. The idea of him staying close comforted you, but also scared you with how unsure you felt about it all. You couldn’t understand it. 

“I can leave though, baby,” he offered, sounding apprehensive, but willing to do it. “If it is truly what you want, I’ll leave. I don’t want to pressure you into telling me anything else. I—I want to be here for you. But I also won’t force it on you. Do you want me to leave? Because I wi—.”

“No, Jake,” you said with a sudden surge of confidence, desperate to keep him with you. “I don’t want you to fucking leave. I’m just not sure what or who to believe. My brain is fucking with me right now and I’m vulnerable and naked as hell and I can’t—.”

“How can I make you believe me?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, squeezing your arms around your legs just a little tighter. Burying your face into your arms, you felt a betraying tear fall to mix with the water droplets. 

“Do you want to dry off and meet me in the living room to watch–?”

“Is Maya going to be upset if you don’t—?”

“I don’t care.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “Now, do you want to get out and watch a movie or someth—?”

You groaned, grumpy at everything. “I don’t want to get out yet,” you responded wetly. The sound of tears clogging your throat. 

“Why?”

“Because nothing tonight has gone my way, and all I want to do is just sit here and feel sad in the shower, Jake,” you argued. You knew how ridiculous you sounded, but didn’t care worth shit. The pregnant, hormonal part of you was barreling through, amidst all of the authentic, emotion-filled space. You sounded like an ass, you knew it. “Is that too much to ask?”

“What if I’m not okay with you sitting there and feeling sad?” His voice sounded closer. 

“Then, I don’t know what to tell you,” you stubbornly responded, slightly nervous at him being nearer to you in proximity.

It was quiet for a few solid moments.

“What happened tonight that didn’t go according to plan? Why’d you fall?”

Why all of the questions? What the fuck were you supposed to tell him? Did you tell him about your vibrator trouble? The body insecurities? Every detail? None of it? A piece of it? Fuck if you knew. Dammit. 

“My body changing has been pissing me off. Suddenly got bigger this week and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you started, sitting your chin on your arms, staring at the water falling in front of you, still only touching your toes. Your hair was steadily drying, making you feel chillier. With a shiver, you kept on down the path of honesty. “I fucking hate how fat I am right now. I do love my baby body most days. Other times, I just hate it. And this week, my bump just. . . Bumped. And, the extra pudge on my fingers, toes, feet, arms, legs—anything that’s not the belly itself—makes me feel gross,” you let another tear fall, landing on your thigh. “It sucks even more because I feel guilty — like I’m being hateful about the baby. But it’s not the baby that makes me feel gross, it’s me–.”

“Y/n,” he tried to interrupt in a stern tone. “Please don’t–.”

“I just don’t feel like me all of the time anymore,” you kept on, getting all kinds of buried thoughts out in the open air. “And tonight–.” You paused. To tell or not to tell. . .Fuck it. “And tonight I felt sexy. I felt sexy enough that I wanted to have a night to myself,” you started, scoffing at the idea and the terrible way of explanation. “I wanted to have a night of just being by myself and acting on the ‘feeling sexy’ thing. And you were gone, so I didn’t need to worry about being loud. It just felt–felt like the perfect night to take a shower and use my vibrator to try and–.” You paused, thinking of the most eloquent way to say what you were wanting to say. Ugh. Fuck eloquence. “I wanted to feel good, Jake. I just needed to get myself off while this feeling lasted.”

The stretch of silence that followed your words made you want to crawl inside of a hole. But, the words were officially out there, and you decided to be brave amd own them rather than crawling in a fucking metaphorical hole. So, you sat there, waiting to see what the fuck would happen after saying something so blatantly honest. 

You finally heard Jake clear his throat from the other side of the curtain. “So,” he started. “I’m assuming you didn’t succeed in that?”

“Nope,” you answered with a bit of indignance. “I sure didn’t.”

“Well,” his voice was suddenly closer than it had been prior to your confession. Your chest flamed. “What can I do to help?” 

“There’s nothing you can do, Jake,” you insisted. Because, truly, there was nothing he could do. That in and of itself was the depressing reality of it all. “You aren’t available to help how I need and that’s just fine–.”

“I am available. I’m here, aren’t I?” 

What was he getting at? “The help I need is not something you can—,” you groaned, frustrated. Why were you having to explain this to him? “You are in a relationship, Jake. Plain and simple. And as much as I do want you here with me, you should be with her right now anyway.” It sucked, but you meant it. The guilt was crawling up your chest for putting him in the position you just had. He didn’t need to know about your sexual ventures. You needed to hold true to what you’d encouraged a few nights ago. “I shouldn’t have even said any—.”

“I never said I wasn’t in a relationship,” he stated, short and testy. “But I’m here right now to–.”

“You’re here to help,” you finished. “Yes, Jake, I know. But there’s nothing you can fucking do. What is there for you to do? Just sit here and shoot the breeze about how I fell and killed the mood before I could find some fucking relief? Because I seriously doubt you’d actually want to do that. In fact, we could begin the wonderful conversation by talking about how hard my ass could have fallen but didn’t. But that doesn’t seem–.”

“How’s your ass feeling?”

“Numb.” 

You heard him snort a laugh and then sigh, long and deep, fully deflating his lungs. You secretly wondered how long it would take. How long it would take for him to just give up on trying to help and decide to leave and be with Maya. (You were difficult to deal with. You knew it, he knew it. And it pissed you the fuck off when he acted like you weren’t a complete pain in the ass.)

His laugh slowly turned into a groan of frustration from the other side of the curtain. You peeked from the tiny little sliver of curtain next to you, glancing only at his leather Chelsea boots, as he went to lean against the wall. He wasn’t going anywhere. But he was getting aggravated, you could feel it. You knew how to push his buttons and you were bad about shutting up. 

“I just feel like shit about myself right now,” you said, trying to lighten the air. “I’m having a massive fucking pity party.”

Silence. All you could hear for a few moments was the sound of the shower and your heart thumping in your ears.

“I can help you feel better.”

Then, out of nowhere, you were recollecting a night not too long ago where he was the one insisting on boundaries. That night, he’d stood there, telling you he wanted to help however he could. But he’d been very clear about what could happen and what couldn’t happen.

He was so close. His breath, having fanned over your face. You could still smell the clean mintiness of his toothpaste. “Obviously with limits,” his voice lowered a bit as his eyes peered down at you, referencing how Maya had instructed him to help.

“Obviously. . .,” you’d trailed off, unsure, and raising a brow out of complete confusion for the conversation’s direction. “I wouldn’t want you to cross any sort of boundary. You’re in a relationship with her. Not me.” 

But. . . There’d been so many times you hadn’t held true since then. A blatant, heady example being your mouth around his dick in his Jeep. Embarrassingly, you hadn’t been able to control yourself and he’d been nowhere near stopping you that night. You could still feel how rock hard and smooth he’d been against your tongue.

Your thoughts briefly spiraled, your thighs clenched. “How are you going to help me, Jacob?”

“You know how.”

“No. I don’t,” you snapped, insistent on avoiding the ache between your legs at the thought of his dick in your mouth.

“Yes, y/n. I know you fucking do.”

There were a million questions coming to you. You shook your head, your hair having grown stiffer as it steadily dried after being out of the spray for long enough. You felt totally unsure. You wanted him so damn bad. . . 

But—your train of thoughts were your worst enemy.

“Are you only asking to help me or make me feel better because you pity me or some shit?” You asked, completely confident in your question. Figured you might as well ask him. 

“No. It’s not pity at all— I just. . .,” he sighed, groaning at the end. “Ridiculous as it may sound to you, I’ve found that when you’re hurting, I hurt. I really fuckin’ hate when you’re sad.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” you mumbled, hopefully loud enough he could hear you. I feel the same way about you. “You’re telling the truth?”

“Of course I’m telling you the truth, honey.”

Well. You moaned, letting your head fall to lightly hit the wall behind you. “I wish things were easier sometimes,” you sniffled, continuing to pour raw feeling from your own heart, as your core thrummed for him. Simultaneously, a singular tear drifted down your face. “Easier for us — you and me,” you sniffed. 

“I know, baby,” he said, low and rasped but loud enough that you felt the pet name all the way down to your wet toes. “Fuck.” 

He groaned, exasperated. But. . . there was more behind it. Like he was frustrated for more reasons than one. And that one groan, that’d come from deep in his throat. . . it had your skin licking with heat. Your chest ignited – heart ramping up quickly. Your thoughts, his noises. . . They were coming to an amplified pulse in the pit of your tummy.

Josh’s voice at Jungle Juice rang through your head, like annoying fucking church bells chiming as someone pulled on them – hard. The harder the yank, the louder they rung. “I told him that if he’s going to do that shit, he needs to keep it out of Maya’s sight. Because, while I don’t condone cheating, I do condone my brother being happy. And hopefully, she’ll be out of the picture soon anyway, so the cheating won’t even have to be a factor. Keeping it out of her sight and all — won’t be an issue.”

And, it was at that moment, you realized. . . Jake could also, most definitely be remembering his brother’s words, too. . . You couldn’t help the rippling, burning desire in your stomach that melted into your core. . . The pathway of your brain that was getting harder and harder to ignore the longer he stayed so close to you while you were completely naked under the spray of the shower. You felt your sensitive nipples peak against your wet thighs. And suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to let him just fucking help. You wanted him to do it. You shouldn’t want it, no matter what Josh believed. . . But – Josh had always had very sage advice. . . what would make this time any different? 

Then, Elsie’s voice from months ago – before you’d ever even had sex with Jake that first time. Didn’t know where the fuck she was coming from, but there she was. Assertive as ever. “I think it would be good for you to live on the edge. Just once.”

You were so fucking conflicted. . . or. . . were you? Fuck. It was wrong to even think of it. But, damn. . . If you didn’t want it so bad. And the longer he stood there, the more you needed it. Ached for him – needed him. 

“I want to help you, y/n.” His tone of voice was bordering one you’d grown accustomed to for so long. It resembled how he’d sound when his need for you was nearing the point of no return. Or. . . were you just imagining things? Hormonal delusion? 

“You know. . .,” you heard him take in a deep breath. Once again, you peeked from the little sliver between the curtains and shower wall, to see him slide a hand through the front of his long hair as he leant against the same wall you were resting against. He wasn’t looking at you, thank God. His eyes didn’t leave the wall above the shower as he cleared his throat. He gave a small cough, implying he was about to say something heavy on his mind. You’d learned his little signs.

Time ticked by slower than molasses, but simultaneously moved at the speed of lightning with his next words. “I’ve read that orgasms are said to help pregnant women for a variety of reasons. I’m sure you know this, too. . . But, um. One I read about recently was actually concerning how they work in elevating self confidence. Remind you how desirable you still are.”

No. Fucking. Way. His back was then sliding down the wall, coming to sit next to you. So close to you, his head falling lightly to lean against the wall, just beyond the thin curtains. You averted your eyes, trained them on the shower’s stream of water ahead of you. 

“And I would be really fucking honored to be the one to help you with that. . . if you like that idea,” he finished, heavily breathing in and out. 

Well that had taken some courage to say, surely. . . It was helping you feel all the more courageous yourself, actually.

Figuring there was absolutely nothing to lose, you went ahead and asked him your nagging question. “Why were you reading about that? What made you care so much about pregnant women having orgasms?”

“Y/n.” 

“What?”

“Seriously.”

“What?” You blanched, a tiny laugh following the word. Honestly, you were just in shock and you weren’t sure what in the hell to say, so you were deflecting.

“You know I want to please you. I want to show you how much I care about you,” he huskily stated, no hesitancy whatsoever in his words. “Want to show you the same fucking way I’ve shown you so many times before. I want be the reason your body trembles. . . the reason you cry for more until I give it to you. I can help you find some sort of relief, baby.”

You felt yourself drip from your entrance, your body begging you to give in to him. “Why?” You breathed, the word hanging in the air for a few seconds, the air so still. Thankfully, the shower water disguised your labored breaths. 

“Because that’s one way I know I can help you,” he asserted, his stance unwavering. “I’ve done it before, I can do it aga—.”

“Jake. You’re in a relation—.”

“I know, y/n,” he cut you off, biting the response your way. “But right fuckin’ now, she’s the last damn thing on my mind.”

“Jake,” you said his name in a stern tone once more, scolding him. You hated yourself for it – why were you trying to speak sense into the situation? “It’s not worth jeopardizing anything just because you feel like you have to help a miserable pregnant wom–.”

“I’m not jeopardizing anything, y/n,” he argued. You heard his back slide up the wall. He was standing again, as you chanced another glance from behind the curtain. “I had this talk with Josh that has helped me feel damn assured in this, too. And, like you keep reminding us both, Maya even told me to help. She doesn’t have to know every way I do it.”

Hm. So he was thinking of Josh’s words. Goddammit, Joshua. And still, you argued. “So now it’s just because she wants you–.”

“Can you please cut the fucking shit? I can assure you she does not want me doing what I want to do to you right now. And you fucking know it, too.” He argued (making a very good point, by the way. . . yet again). “You know you want this—that I want this. Don’t act like you don’t know it,” he challenged you, voice leaving no room for argument. “All of these times we’ve been so close to going for it and we keep stopping ourselves.”

“Why don’t you just get it out of your system with Maya?” You clipped, being snippy for no reason whatsoever. Genuinely, you were in no place to argue when your body was literally begging you to let him have his way with you.

“She’s not you,” he simply stated, not taking the bait to start an argument. He sighed deeply. You could imagine he was shaking his head with the action. “Every time I’m with her, you’re there. In my mind, in her place. . . You and your beautiful fucking body that’s growing my damn baby.”

You felt your core flex and continue to release arousal at his words. Fuck it. You were not in the mood to be the one in the right anymore. You didn’t want to be smart about your choices. . . what you wanted was his mouth on you, his dick, inside of you. You wanted to let him do whatever he wanted between your legs. And, technically, it would be him helping to benefit the baby. . . the less stressed you were, the less stress she felt.

And God only knew how fucking stressed you were lately. And there was only one way–one person–you wanted to relieve that right now. Fuck morality. 

“Who’s to say you’ll want me when you actually see me like this?” You genuinely wondered. 

You couldn’t believe you were actually giving this idea any substance. There really was no way it could end well. But your thoughts just kept trailing to how it could end well. . . very well. . . With you moaning his name as you finished against his tongue or around his cock . . . And, dirty as it would be to her, technically Maya did tell him to help with whatever you needed, so it wasn’t entirely against her wishes. Although, you were one thousand percent sure this was not what she meant. . . . at all.

“Try me,” he challenged, voice so low with the two daring words.

Fuck. Your body could not deny his touch any longer.

So, with wobbly legs and weak knees, you stood up. Your ass tingled, hurting just a bit. You were trying so hard to not somehow slip on any water on the shower floor. You decided to lean against the long wall of the shower, facing the bathroom. Holding on to the plastic bar built into the middle of the longer wall, you adjusted to face the curtain. As you did this, it was clicking that he was about to see your naked body in a way he’d never seen it before. . . So, you needed to make sure you looked as good as you could. You leaned just the slightest bit to reach the water – let it wash off your face, rinse your hair. . . the best you could do to refresh.

It’d helped. You were feeling slightly more appealing. Felt water droplets sliding down your wanting body. Even though you wanted to cross your arms over your chest, you knew the pressure would hurt like a bitch if you did that. And you needed to keep your balance. So, the other option was tucking them behind your back to hold the plastic bar in the wall with both hands. With a push of your chest, your full, heavy breasts perked in waiting. Your body was pulling you to him. . . Needed him.

You bent one wet leg at the knee, your hip curving just right. It felt odd to prepare for his eyes, in a body that didn’t always feel like your own anymore. Thanks to his baby.

You couldn’t conceal the tiny whine that slipped from your lips when you crossed your thighs, pushing them together, adding a little bit of pressure where you needed it so badly. And your skin was so silky smooth. . . the fresh shave and wax was working wonders at helping you to feel a little more appealing. “Are you sure about this?” You asked, feeling a bit of worry accumulate in your belly.

“Yes. More than,” he said, no doubt in his tone at all. Though, after he said it, he paused, ready to await your words. “. . .Are you?”

Guilt was what you should’ve felt in this moment. But, right then and there, guilt was as far out of the window as it could’ve possibly been. This felt real. Natural. It only felt right. So fucking right. So, if he thought it was okay, so did you. 

“Fuck yes,” you breathed, whining on the words without warning, your legs rubbing together once more. Your swollen chest was heavy with each breath you took, waiting for him. 

“Let me see you,” he beckoned. 

Needing the curtains gone from between you, but scared to move for fear of falling, you huffed. Pregnancy and POTS were not a good combination for a clumsy-ass like yourself. 

“I’m afraid I’ll land on my ass if I move,” you explained, a little giggle following the words. “Um, c-can you–?”

And before you could even finish the request, the thin barrier between you suddenly vanished and. . . standing before your naked, wet body. . . was him. Your eyes didn’t instantly find his face, suddenly shy in front of the man who’d seen you naked so many times before.

So, you focused fully on his body. He was still fully clothed, but completely there, right in front of you. And, from what you could tell from the evident imprint in his dark jeans, he was definitely wanting you. He wanted to help in this special, intimate way. . . Your eyes trailed up to his chest, but you didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Oh my god,” he groaned, so low in his throat. You could feel his eyes, but you still hadn’t let yourself meet them. You couldn’t yet–too nervous under his burning gaze. “Everything. You are so–fuck. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on–.” 

Him stumbling over his damn words was causing your skin to flame with slight perturbation and anxiousness. Needed him to spit it out so you could avoid any more insecurities. You glanced up, hoping to get a better idea of what he was feeling by watching his facial expressions. 

What you found was him, rubbing his lip in thought before he held his chin with the same hand. His free hand was placed to properly adjust himself in his pants.

His eyes slowly trailed from your thighs, to your hips, and finally to your midsection. Ever-the-showing pregnant woman, your babygirl hadn't been a slow grower, ever. And after this week’s progression, your belly was already pretty round at 18 weeks. For what it was worth, you had a pretty cute pregnant tummy (and a smooth one, thanks to the stretch mark oils and creams). It was everything else about your rapidly changing body that went to your head.

In spite of all of the changes, though, his expression darkened even more; his stare, so hungry for what his eyes were feasting on. You felt extremely defenseless in his presence, under his gaze. He seemed in awe of what he saw. . . made your stomach burn with an animalistic need. A blush crept up your chest and neck, settling in your cheeks. You tingled with anticipation; all of you, completely at his mercy.

Restless for attention, your nipples peaked at his regard to the rest of your body. And, as if sensing it, his eyes swept upwards, in perfect time to watch your swollen breasts, rising and falling on choppy breaths. Truly, your breathing was inconsistent, only coming out in short huffs. You were not able to catch a full breath with the way your heart hammered in your chest. And it seemed his breathing matched yours, as you watched every. single. reaction to your body fan across his pretty features. . .Time was moving in slow motion. 

The way he bit his lip, as he finally locked his dark eyes with yours — it would forever be etched in your memory. “Holy fuck,” he breathed. “You are everything, y/n. The most exquisitely lovely and radiant woman I’ve ever fucking seen.”

Your heart was lodged in your throat, pounding and pulsing. Breath catching, your next words slipped easily past your lips. “Kiss me, Jake.”

a/n: oh, how I love this chapter (and we haven't even gotten to my favorite part yet)....... ;)

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! 🤦‍♀️ 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

[ushys]

⸻ miles morales as your boyfriend (earth 1610)

a/n: omfg the chokehold this gif has on me- anyway you guys do not understand how much love i have for this sweet boy 🥹 deserves the world idc idc.

- fluff, no nsfw bc he is a minor, afab reader (lmk if you guys want gn, male)

MILES LOVES drawing you. you’re perfect in his eyes and he could draw only you for all of eternity and he wouldn’t complain at all. everything about you was beautiful to him and he made sure he captured every beautiful detail you have on to his drawings.

MILES is the type to send you cute (your favorite animal) videos on tiktok because he knows how much you love em and all he wants to do is to make you happy.

WILL introduce you to his family and is happy when he finds out how easily you and his parents got along. you got along with his mom so well that sometimes you’d visit their house and mostly talk ‘chisme’ with her the entire time (he gets jealous-)

AFTER an argument, he stops by your window and drops you off flowers with a little cute note apologizing. he doesn’t know if you would want to see him at that moment so he gives you time to cool off and give you some space. he replies immediately if you were to call or text him ready to talk again due to how much he hates wasting time not talking to you.

HE likes showing you off to anyone. his friends? yes. his family? yes. strangers on the street? yes. he can’t help it if he’s madly in love.

WHEN he revealed to you that he was spider-man, he was scared that you were going to be mad at him for keeping this a secret from him for a very long time. he thought that you were going to think that he didn’t “trust” you but when you were actually ecstatic finding out instead of upset, his worries all vanished as he smiled and hugged you.

WILL have a whole playlist dedicated to you. he likes to listen to that playlist when you aren’t with him, yk so he could daydream.

IS completely oblivious when you’re jealous. if you catch him talking to another girl who is clearly into him, you’d be upset in which miles would ask you about but you would just mumble “it’s nothing”. hearing this, miles thinks back to the entire morning wondering if he did something to make you upset. when you finally tell him, he quickly reassures you and says “i don’t feel anything towards any other girl who isn’t you. i love you and only you ma.”

IF it’s late at night and you can’t fall asleep, miles would come over with his spider-man suit on and picks you up, and swings to different buildings. then, you guys would land on a rooftop with a clear and beautiful view of the city at night and by the edge you guys would sit down, while miles pulls you in close to him, head on his shoulder, admiring the sight of the skyline. “it’s so pretty” you say. “not as pretty as you cariño”

MILES used to think that pet names were lowk cringey, but when he started dating you, everything changed. now, he calls you “mi amor” “baby” “my love” “cariño” “preciosa” “babe”

HE can not flirt if he wanted to flirt on purpose. he gets awkward and shy like 🫣🫣 this one time before you guys started dating, he wanted to make a move on you by saying “hey y/n, a-are you fr-from tennessee? cause you’re the 1 f-for me- wait no that’s not right, wait what was it again? i u-uh never mind.” and he scurried off before you could even say anything. “the fuck-“

WHEN you guys go on the train, he would pull out his airpods and give you one of them while you guys listen to one of his playlists (ahem the playlist he made for you but shh you don’t know that.)

IF you don’t do graffiti art, miles will take you to one of his secret locations and teach you how to draw certain things and praises you for trying your best. once you get better at it, you guys start going to his secret location more often and you guys just spend hours spray painting.

LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling with you. literally one of his favorite things to do with you. he loves just having you in his arms knowing you are safe and sound with him. your soft and warm skin making him wanting to fall asleep because of how comforting it feels to just have you there with him. what he loves the most is having your arms around him holding him close while his head lays on your chest, listening in to your heartbeat knowing you really are there with him and that you are his and he is yours.

TAKES random and silly pictures of you just to send them later to you after you guys hung out and texts you saying “this one is my favorite.”

HAS a picture of you on his lock screen and his home screen.

that’s all for today, im tired and imma go and day dream about this boy :p

[ma3mae]

"I feel like sleeping on the couch tonight"

Summary: Pranking your hubby/bf by telling them that ^ and how they'd react (fukuzawa, ranpo, tecchou)

Genre: kinda cracky, def some fluff and more tooth rotting fluff 💀🛐

Warnings: tecchou whipped for ur cute ass, me barking for fukuzawa, ranpo being a child.

A/N: saw it from a reel on insta and immediately HAD to use that inspo, okurr 😤✋originally wanted to add fyodor but ill prob do it in a part 2 thingy

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Ok so first off hes a major workaholic so you prob often fall asleep on the couch during some movie watching while waiting for him at home

always feels apologetic and even guilty bc not only as his lover but as a person, you should be sleeping in the comforts of your bed

will always carry you to bed bc he wouldnt want to wake you up as well. You already did enough by trying to stay up for him

So you can see how surprised he is when he finally arrives at home at reasonable hours and you lying wide awake on the couch

And you suddenly blurt that shit out?? HES ALSO PROB TIRED AF ILL MASSAGE U, ZADDY WOOF

takes a seat next to you and immediately asks if theres a reason for that

wont jump to conclusions but will still be a bit taken back and worried that it might be his fault...

"Nah, i just feel like it today." "Oh okay, well if you say so" SOBBING FR

He values honesty above all else and wouldnt doubt that you'd be pranking or lying to him tbh and overall your comfort is one of his main priorities

So he'll let it go but still be saddened that you dont wanna sleep in your shared bed :((

A sudden idea pops up in his head bc at some point even he wants to still be in his lover's arms especially after work

Its already sad enough that yall cant do it whenever u want to D: HUG HIM FFS

********

"Then I shall join you on the couch if you're alright with it?" Before you can even say anything, he takes a seat right next to you. You shuffled your feet away from him to give him some space, focusing your gaze onto the TV. You knew if you'd look at him, you'd immediately stop the prank. His gaze alone would make anyone confess their biggest secrets and well, you didn't want to spoil the fun yet.

Yet it only needed a clearing of his throat to turn your attention towards him and oh no...

You couldn't do it. How would you? When he was looking at you like you just kicked a ton of cats infront of him.

"Y/N."

NO! DON'T SAY ANYTHING

"I'm sorry if I have been neglecting you lately. If there's anything I can d-"

"It's prank.."

You sat up as you took his hands into yours.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like you've been neglecting me... I just saw it online and thought it was a funny prank."

Blinking his eyes in confusion, his gaze softened at your words.

He pulls his hands back before wrapping them around you, gently pressing your bodies closer as you felt his lips on your head.

"Even if it's just a prank, I have still been neglecting my duties as your husband lately and apologize greatly for that."

Slightly pulling back, you feel his rough hand cupping your cheek.

Eyes full of love looking into your glassy ones as he lets his thumb stroke a stray tear away.

"I apologize deeply for making you feel in such a way that you had to" prank" me as you called it. You must have felt lonely these days but don't worry. I will make sure to return home earlier because I have also been missing you, my love. "

After a loving kiss and an enjoyable evening, he had kept his word for the future days and if something would change, he made sure to notify you immediately.

Yet at the end of the day, he would always return to your beloved home and into your arms for the night.

**********

Yall, dont be surprised in how FAST we confessed

look me in the eyes and say you wouldnt spill everything out when THIS man looks at you like he'd give you the world if he could 🛐🛐

He'd def try his best to keep his promise but sometimes yokohama takes a bit longer to save but dw he'll make time for you bc happy wife happy life

cook him smth, massage him, just be there for him and let him lie on your chest or smth and he'll already feel so blessed

we all wanna pamper him ok, he be raising a whole orphanage so someone gotta pamper him too

I just want me a nice fukuzaddy alright 😩😩😩😩

Edogawa Ranpo

He'll give you the biggest side eye fr 👁️

like?? Hello?? Why sleep on the couch when you can be in bed with the world's greatest detective???

Will fr shame you for that ngl

He obviously knows its a prank but he cant believe you have the AUDACITY to do it to him

You are literally challenging a MAN CHILD, have fun 🤓

For the sake of it, you did the prank after knowing that it was a pretty uneventful day at the agency but oh dont worry

This man WILL gaslight u into thinking it wasnt 💀

*******

"So you want to sleep on the couch, huh?"

There he stood infront of you, arms crossed, the biggest pout he could muster on his face and blocking your sight of the TV as you continued to nonchalantly munch on HIS chips he had hidden under the bed.

"Well, I just feel like it."

""wElL i jUsT fEEl LikE iT", she says. Then I feel like taking MY chips back, thank you very much!"

Before he could snatch them away, you immediately turned your back towards him, clutching the bag tightly in your arms.

"Y/N, YOU'RE BREAKING THE CHIPS?!?!"

"and I'M sleeping on the couch."

Silence fills the room for some seconds before you hear a huff behind you. Hasty steps making their way towards your shared bedroom before the door being shut quite loudly.

Doubt was creaking through your resolve, asking if you were maybe overdoing it.

"Nah, he knows I'm joking....Right?"

An hour passed before he came back, flopping himself down onto your legs and you could just feel how he was pressing down harder on purpose so there'd be no way to leave.

"Ow, Ranpo?! Get off of my legs!!"

Yet his sharp gaze stopped you, not giving you the slightest chance to tell him off.

It made you nervous, how he just sat there with his arms crossed, eyes not leaving yours.

Was he threatening or mocking you??

You weren't sure.

"You know, Y/N..." He slowly began as you felt him press down even harder.

"I really don't appreciate what you're doing right now."

"H-Huh, what do you mean?"

He physically had to hold himself back from laughing at your clueless face because oh...

Oh, you wanted to prank him? Then be ready to get it handed back at you even worse.

"So many people have been hurt today, all these lives the Agency had to save with MY help. You don't know how many eyes I had to witness as they were about to lose their light in them. So many were at Death's door and we managed to help them. Now I'm tired and ready to be welcomed by the comforts of my home and the love of my life pulling me into her arms, telling me how proud she is of me of having LITERALLY saved the city and maybe wanting to lighten that burden on my shoulders I have to carry every day? "

He pressed his index finger on your forehead as he leaned in closer.

"That's not very nice of you, you know. Imagine you'd be the World's Greatest Detective and coming home exhausted but your lover decides to be weird and seemingly not EVEN appreciating my work. Can't relate to that, right?"

You hated him.

You hated him so much for how he exactly knew what to say to get what he wanted.

But that's also what made you fall in love with him at the first place.

"If so many people have been hurt then why didn't I see it o-"

"We have ties, Y/N. Of course they wouldn't broadcast something like that on TV. Do you know what chaos it would cause to this city and possibly the world? "

It only made you frown as he clicked his tounge at you while waving his finger at your words.

"Now, now you know what you should be saying after pulling such a stunt like this. Especially after I have worked so hard today."

Pulling your blanket over your head to break from his intense gaze seemed to do nothing, as he had just simply snatched it out of your hands.

"I'm not gonna apologize to you for that! Just wanted to pull a prank on you and you just have to turn it onto me!"

He merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, what did you expect? You should be glad that I didn't give it back to you ten times worse. Just wanted to go home, eat your cooking and maybe cuddle but I might actually not do that at all today."

"Ugh, you're such a buzzkill."

You just sighed at his words and he suddenly found himself in your arms.

He turned towards you with a frown on his face yet his reddened face seemed to lessen the effect of his next words.

"H-Hey! I didn't say that I forgive you for your prank!"

"Well but I forgive you for trying to make me feel bad for it. If you wanted me to cuddle and kiss you then just say so. You knew it was a prank after all."

"But I didn't like it when you said that you'd rather sleep on the couch than on the bed today..."

His voice resonated through your chest as he pressed his face against it, muffled words accompanied with a whiny tone.

"I never said, I would sleep without you though?"

A laugh escaped you as his head shot up, big eyes meeting your amused ones.

Yet he only gave a pout at your words as he went back to your chest, wanting to hide his embarassement from you.

"You're mean but I still love you. You owe me candy for putting me through this, though."

You only let your hand glide through his hair before settling it on his neck, giving light scratches to the spots he liked.

A satisfied sigh escaped him and soon the room was filled with only noises from your TV.

"I'm already sweet enough so that should suffice as" candy", right? And that was your pick up line not mine so I'll stick to what you meant."

"Yeah, yeah. Now let's just cuddle in peace, okay."

A comforting silence grew between the both of you as you later on fell asleep together, a smile etched on each face.

********

This was SO long lmao but next time you'll prank him, he'll just dump some water on u bc thats sparing you from him at this point

bRO COULD legit just expose everything of u but he wouldnt bc he loves u too much 💕💕💕😤😤😤

Suehiro Tetchou

bro, thats like the worst prank u could do to him bc... he wouldnt get it first...

the only reaction you'll get is 🙂 him when he greets you > 😐 when u tell him that

hes gonna be fr confused like... why does his partner want to sleep on the couch but... okay?????

Honestly i think he wouldnt protest right out but at the end of the day, even he wants some cuddles after work :(

*********

Tecchou was excited. No one would really know about it if it wasn't for the light smile adorning his face as he thought about going home.

The only one who'd notice is Jouno but he didn't really care enough to mention anything about it.

He'd merely click his tounge when his annoying ass colleague would take a bit longer to respond to his questions, only saying the words "Just go home if even the smallest things are distracting for you."

Jouno could swear he was about to kick him in his face when he'd hear him turn towards him and only reply with "Y/N is smaller than me but not the smallest thing though."

"JUST LEAVE ALREADY, OH MY GOD!! I can't listen to your rambling about them any longer!"

Only he could nearly make Jouno groan in agony as he turned and began to walk away, not wanting to be near that idiot, knowing he'd just be looking like a lovestruck dumbass to everyone around them.

Tecchou only blinked at his partner's outburst, yet took his word and began to make his way home.

An exasperated sigh left Jouno's lips as he heard his footsteps yet it didn't surprise him at all.

He just couldn't get it around his head how someone could even be into that guy but oh well.

It's not his problem as long as it doesn't disrupt their work.

After all he had to give his thanks to that weirdo's partner for having given him a way to make him comply more easily.

It took him a simple "Just finish already and then you can go home."

"Okay."

Would be his only answer every damn time yet Jouno couldn't help but let out a small smirk when he'd hear the racing pulse of their enemies as if it was a declaration of Death from the Grim Reaper himself in their eyes.

Finally arriving at home, Tecchou would take off his coat and hat, hanging it onto the designated stand for such things.

A soft smile adorned his face as he walked into the living room of your shared apartment, finding you laying comfortably on the couch, the crinkling of stuffing your hand into the pack of spicy potato chips echoing through the room as a cackle escaped your lips.

"Trash TV's surprisingly entertaining if it's done right, HA! "

"Y/N."

A yelp escaped you as you sat up and whipped your head around, only to see your boyfriend standing behind you.

Tecchou was unfazed by your surprise,reaching for your face to wipe the potato crumbs on your lips with his thumb.

"Mmh, chips. The spicy one's are especially tasty with mustard and red pepper." He told you as he licked the crumbs off of his thumb, a smile adorning his face as he sat himself down next to you.

Laying his head onto your lap, the soft fuzzy blanket covering it, making it all the more welcome for him to lay on them.

He had randomly gifted them to you one day, simply because "it reminded him of you".

Fuzzy and warm. That's how he'd always feel when thinking, looking and touching you.

"That sounds like a really weird combo." You replied as you smiled at his words, settling your hand on his head before let your fingers run along his scalp and scratching the right spots, making him sigh as he pressed his face against your stomach, snuggling into it.

"Are you tired, honey? You could go to bed, you know?" You asked him as he closed his eyes, breathing evening out while he wrapped his arms around your waist, enjoying your smell and warmth.

"Just wanna cuddle right now."

"Alright." You replied with, thinking about how you'd tell him the words you've been wanting to say for a while now.

An hour passed before you felt your boyfriend stir a bit, finally turning his head up to you, yet his arms still enclosed around their original spot.

Your legs were cramping at this point but how could you tell that your boyfriend when he just looked so cute like that??

"Had a nice nap?"

"Yeah, it was nice but I'm still tired..."

"You can go to bed if you'd like. Have you eaten anything yet though?"

"I have after the mission. I think I'll go to bed though."

Tetchou stood up and made his way to the bathroom, getting ready for bed.

After 10 minutes, he found himself back on the couch, a slight furrow of his eyebrows as he asked.

"Aren't you going to bed with me?"

Welp, straightforward as always.

"Uhmm no, I feel like sleeping on the couch today. Sorry, honey..."

"Oh. That's okay."

Blinking at his reply, he gave you a peck on the lips before going to your shared bedroom, the shutting of the door being the last sign of him before you were left alone on the couch.

You had forgotten that he wouldn't see any fault in that...

So was it really a prank? You didn't know, feeling a bit guilty yet you stuck to your plan.

Maybe he'd notice something was wrong the next day....

.

.

.

"Y/N."

You felt a hand slightly shaking you, making you stir in your sleep before slowly opening your eyes, recognizing the face of your boyfriend through your blurry sight.

"T-Tetchou??"

There he was kneeling before you so you'd be face to face as you lied on the couch, having fallen asleep after your continious marathon of trash TV.

Blinking to get a clear sight of him, you could see slight eyebags under his eyes.

"I can't sleep without you, Y/N. Come to bed or let's sleep on the couch together."

He suggested as he cupped your cheek with his hand, leaning his forehead against yours.

Hazel eyes bore into yours as the guilt inside of you went haywire.

"I'm so sorry, Tetchou. I should have gone to bed with you."

"But you said you wanted to sleep on the couch which is no problem at all."

You let out a sigh as you sat up, hands fiddling with your blanket, feeling him instantly lay his arms and head onto your lap, his eyes refusing to leave your face.

"Well... It was a prank."

He merely blinked at your words, seemingly processing your words.

"Why would you say that you'd want to sleep on the couch as a prank? Isn't a prank something like hurting someone but making it seem like an accident?"

"Yeah well, I did hurt you."

Your only reply was him furrowing his eyebrows as stood up, only to take a seat next to you.

Letting him pull you onto his lap, he gently cupped your face in his hands.

"But you never did?" His obliviousness was taking a toll onto you.

The guilt was surely consuming you. He was so honest to a fault and that made itself apparent in how he'd perceive anyone else especially you.

He would never think that YOU would ever do something to hurt him.

How could he? You loved him and he loved you.

Why should someone hurt the person they love the most?

"But Tetchou, I-I did. You couldn't sleep because I didn't go to bed with you and I had a hunch you'd probably get up and talk to me about it but I wasn't sure so I... stuck to it."

You couldn't look him in the eyes, yet the sudden lips on your forehead made your gaze shift onto his, confused eyes clashing against slight amused ones.

"That's not hurting me. Don't worry, Y/N. I'm used to pranks even if yours isn't one. Jouno would often do that too."

"Jouno??? Since when does he even do something like pranking??"

"Well he would sometimes just not reply when I talk to him or try to make me trip when I'm about to deal with the enemy. He would sometimes just click his tounge and walk away because it never works on me though. Heh, it's kinda funny if I think about it now. "

Ah.

How would you tell him that it was just Jouno being a dick.

You couldn't help but sweatdrop at his words, the guilt being comepletely wiped away as you thought that it would be better for their... colleagueship to just leave them be.

"That does sound funny... But maybe let's just go to bed. It is late after all."

"Hm, but I haven't forgiven you yet."

Eyes bulging yet narrowing at his words as you saw the corners of his lips rise up, a small but definite smirk decorating his handsome features.

"Hey!! You just said that I didn't even prank you!"

He let out a breathy laugh as you yelped, having lifted you up with ease and making his way to the bedroom.

"Yeah but u got pranked, heh."

You could only let out a "Hmph!" at his words yet not stopping the smile spreading on your face as he laid you down onto the bed, immediately laying down next to you and wrapping his arms around you, your legs entangling with each other as he pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.

"I think Jouno is being a bad influence on you." you teased as he let a hand glide through your hair.

"Hm maybe but I can now understand when he says" give them a taste of their own medicine.""

You merely rolled your eyes at his cheeky statement, pinching his nose before tucking your head under his chin, shuffling closer towards him.

"Let's just sleep already, you tease." were your last words for the night before closing your eyes, the beating of his heart like a lullaby for your ears.

"Good night, Y/N." he said in a quiet voice as he let his lips linger on the crown of your head before closing his eyes as well, the warmth of your body guaranteeing him he'd have the best sleep as always with you in his arms.

********

you still dont know what posessed him that night for behaving like that 😩

U even went to Jouno and asked him about it, no eyes boy was just like "? maybe that was a fake LOL" u shouldnt have asked that h*e 🙂🙂🙂 jk we love him

now you'd be wary of "pranking" ur bf, maybe he'd prank u back again but worse.... yet you'd quickly forget about all of that bc he'd shower u with kisses whenever you'd ask him about it

even he can be sneaky but we forgive him bc hes cute ok 🛐

[whyse7vn]

SHIPPED -

[ot7 x reader]

TAEHYUNG -

tae: pop quiz should i kill myself?

y/n: please

tae: knew it

you fucking hate me and you ARE in love with that mingi guy

y/n: mingi

tae: it’s okay baby no need to apologise i know how crazy fans can get and i know you love me and me ONLY

not mingi

come here let’s cuddle (fuck)

y/n: k

tae: wait 😭😭😭

baby you forgot you apologise

y/n: for what

tae: mingi

they are shipping you with mingi

i can’t even say his name

y/n: you’ve said his name like four times already

tae: ok but i threw up every time

y/n: but you still said his name?

tae: what is your problem

y/n: i miss mingi i’m sorry

i get mad when i don’t see my man for a while

tae: aw babe 🥰

come over

y/n: did you even read what i said?

tae: i’m depressed

y/n: cool don’t care ur not mingi

tae: i could be

y/n: no you couldn’t

tae: ok but

y/n: but?

tae: nothing

y/n: that’s what i thought

loser

tae: don’t call me that

yk it gets me hot and bothered

y/n: are you horny or depressed

tae: don’t ask me stupid questions wtf

ofc i’m horny 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

do you want to fuck?

say yes

y/n: saying no

tae: ok wtf

you really are with mingi aren’t you

y/n: yeah

tae: babe

ur changing i can’t stand this my heart can’t take this damage and the way i feel can’t stand this mmmmm baby i don’t understand this

y/n: did you just sing xxxtentacion lyrics to me

tae: he gets me

y/n: ok

tae: you don’t get me

y/n: thank god

tae: ok now say omg tae ur the only one for me not that moji guy

y/n: moji?

tae: motor?

y/n: ?

tae: mistletoe????

y/n: what

tae: minion

y/n: mingi?

tae: mitochondria

y/n: mingi.

tae: microscope

y/n: it’s mingi

tae: no i think it’s misconstruction

y/n: what do you want from me rn

tae: tell miscarriage to fuck off

y/n: i literally met him once

tae: so???

he wants you

i know it

all the shippers know it

and all these STUPID edits know it

delete his number now

y/n: i don’t even have his number

tae: oh

ok then

y/n: yeah

tae: so like

y/n: don’t ask me anything stupid

tae: thoughts on iceland banning the colour green

y/n: you just made that up

why

ur so strange

tae: babe can i sing for you again

ik u love it when i sing

y/n: leave me alone tae

tae: do you let michael sing to you???

not jackson btw

cuz he’s like dead

y/n: would you like to join him

tae: mingloo or michael jackson???

pls be more specific babe

hey

where did you go

seen?????

ur leaving me on seen are you fr????

ok at least it’s not delivered

or a block like last time

ur real mean yk

at least i know my worlds are getting to you

now let me sing ok?

it might seem crazy what i am 'bout to say

sunshine she's here you can take a break

i'm a hot air balloon that could go to space

ok why did my messages go green

oh

i’m blocked

again

hahahahahaha

cheating fuck

FUCK YOU AND MINTY

SEOKJIN -

jin: the way i don’t even care

y/n: what

jin: i don’t care

y/n: idk this song i’m sorry

jin: i’m not singing

y/n: oh

jin: can he cook

y/n: who

jin: ur mc buddy

y/n: minghao?

jin: yeah

ur new boyfriend can he cook better than me?

no nvm

don’t tell me i don’t even care

not one bit not even two bits

y/n: okay?

jin: no it’s not ok

what about this is ok

OH WOW UR NEW BOYFRIEND IS 26 I DONT EVEN CARE

y/n: why are you shouting at me

jin: I DON’T CARE

LOOK AT ME DOES IT LOOK LIKE I EVEN CARE

y/n: lowkey

jin: he can’t cook

look at his fingers they look weak

a man with weak fingers can’t cook

y/n: ur so right

jin: yeah i know

so can he cook?

y/n: idk babe

jin: why don’t you know

y/n: because i don’t

jin: he’s your man says twitter

you should know these things

y/n: is this you jealous rn?

jin: i don’t even care what are you talking about

y/n: my fault i thought you cared for a second

jin: well i don’t

do you have his number

y/n: yeah

jin: don’t care

y/n: u sure?

jin: whatever man

he was weak fingers

he looks like he has a lisp does he have a lisp?

y/n: no??

jin: yes he does

stupid lispy bitch

y/n: SEOKJIN DONT BE MEAN

lisps are cute

jin: do you like his lisp?

bet you wanna kiss him every time he speaks

bet he’s all like “i theriously thlipping love thew” all in ur ear

and u blush so bad

y/n: LAMSOSOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

jin: i don’t care take ur 26 year old lisp bitch

y/n: all this because of a few stupid shippers?

jin: he looks at you a lot

and you look at him

A LOT

there are so many videos

you look at him like you wanna get him pregnant

y/n: what the fuck

jin: you should only look at me like that

y/n: i’m sorry????

jin: i don’t care for your sorry

or this situation

or that ur new man is 26

i don’t CARE

y/n: ok baby

jin: if i smoked i would light a cigarette rn

y/n: i believe you

jin: good

would be like a chain smoker rn

y/n: i believe you baby

jin: and i’m not talking about that little emo band thing or whatever

y/n: didn’t think you were

jin: me

cuz i’m i’m a chain smoker in spirit

y/n: !!!

jin: girlfriend

y/n: boyfriend

jin: ….

so like i’m gonna be honest

y/n: ok

jin: i do care

y/n: no way

jin: ik it’s hard to believe cuz i’m a good actor and all

y/n: naturally

jin: but wow why is he looking at you like he needs to be inside of you

y/n: ok ew?

jin: right i was thinking the same thing

y/n: why would you say that

jin: WHY WOULD HE LOOK AT YOU LIKE THAt?????????

y/n: let’s end this conversation

jin: let’s end his life

y/n: gn jin

jin: think about it

y/n: no

jin: when he looks at you do you feel uncomfortable

y/n: i’m uncomfortable rn

jin: OHMYGOD IS HE WITH YOU

IS HE LOOKING????

BABE TELL ME

y/n: no

jin: i’m literally a chain smoker

in spirit

cuz smoking ages you

look at jungkook 26 looking 206

y/n: goodnight jin

jin: so is ur new man with u or not??

y/n: no jin

goodnight

jin: good i didn’t even care anyways

YOONGI -

yoongi: fuck you

you know what you did

y/n: contrary to popular belief i am unfortunately not all knowing nor am i a mind reader

yoongi: kill yourself

y/n: full of love and joy today i see <3

yoongi: do you know

how may edits i’ve seen of that one clip of you and soobin

why is he smiling so hard at you???

tf is his issue

ur not fucking funny at all trust me i know

and you look really good

why are you looking good around other people???

and WHY did you touch him

and why the fuck did he blush so hard?

you need to kill yourself it’s the only option

y/n: strange way of telling me ur deeply in love with me but i’ll take it

yoongi: kill yourself

y/n: WAIT WDYM IM NOT FUNNY

yoongi: am i laughing rn?

y/n: okay that’s not how being funny works

it comes naturally

yoongi: naturally it doesn’t come to you and that’s fine

y/n: yes it does

soobin thinks i’m funny

and so does everyone else

yoongi: soobin doesn’t count cuz he’s a loser

he was also looking at ur tits the whole time i would be smiling if ur tits were in my face too

and everyone else? yeah shut up

ur not funny and that’s ok

y/n: HE WAS NOT

just ur a sick pervert doesn’t mean every man i come into contact is as well

soobin is a nice respectful young man

and are you trying to say my only personality trait is my tits????

that’s real fucked up actually!!!

yoongi: i mean it’s not ur humour thats for sure

y/n: and you think ur comedian of the year?

yoongi: i pull my weight

y/n: YOONGI

baby

babe

be fr

i’m the funny one in this relationship and that’s ok

your good at other things

yoongi: that’s crazy

we must be a really unfunny couple then yikes

y/n: what is ur beef?

yoongi: you and soobin

y/n: soobin is a baby to me

there is no me and soobin

yoongi: yeah ok

he’s 6 ft yk?

y/n: i know

stood next to him

yoongi: did you compare hand sizes

y/n: are you calling me a whore?

yoongi: is he funny?

y/n: yoongi

yoongi: is he funnier than me??

y/n: no yoongi

yoongi: wow that’s insane thought i wasn’t funny??????

soobin must have the personality of a fucking rock then

y/n: rolling my eyes real hard rn

yoongi: is he a good kisser?

y/n: ok now ur being ridiculous

yoongi: you touched his arm

y/n: he’s suit was fucked up

yoongi: have you imagined him in a wedding suit

y/n: what

yoongi: was his skin soft when you touched him

y/n: again he was wearing suit didn’t feel his skin at all

yoongi: bet you wanted to

y/n: ur impossible actually

incoming FaceTime call from yoongi :3

yoongi: answer me

y/n: are you going to apologise for telling me to kms

yoongi: no

want to see ur pretty face tho

answer pls

y/n: why would i answer after that

yoongi: pls

y/n: you want me so bad

yoongi: me or soobin?

y/n: …

yoongi: ok sorry

answer :3

JUNGKOOK -

jk: hey can wonbin do a kick flip?

y/n: idk probably

jk: wkjsjsjxjdjswiiwskdkekekdkwkke KSSKXKSKSKSKCKDMDKDJDJSKDKKKWOQWOSODKDKSKDKDJEKDKDKSKDDKDKDKKDKSKDKDKDKDKKCKMDKDCDKDKDKKDKDKFDKDKKDKDKDDKKDDKDKDKDKKDKDKDKDDJDKDKKDKDKDKDKSKDKDKDKDKDKKDKDKDDKKDDKDKDKFKDKDKDKAKS/@@:@;’ wmkdkdkdkdkd sskskdk kddkmdmdmdxm-@/29/929920//09/9/9:9

y/n: woah ok?

you don’t even skate why does this matter?

jk: exactly

y/n: i’m not following

jk: do you know his songs?

y/n: pulling back the sirennnnnnnnnnnn

jk:😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

y/n: ??

you literally asked me to? why are you crying

jk: do you have his number?

y/n: yeah

jk: /‘sjdjdjcjkdidfkckkdkfkdkdk&/&&/&/8/88/8/8/8/88/8818:’snn@2@:’dndn’dmn**$*****$\$$\$$€!!!!’annanjjjsnsnsndjxjxjjxjjxjzjj&/&:&:&/&7(7(7(7(&?&!@!@)&();6;6:5;7)&??,(:3-;:&)9!£0£@!&()::54:(,£,&?@£9£0&0£9£9£9)&(7;5:437)&££9&9)@(7(7(6(£?&!9&0@!’ b gxfxgxgstdgcnjhkbvkhnb hchdtsrdhchvkhopjpjojonobkvjbjvgihighij

y/n: jungkook…

jk: has he ever looked you in the eyes?

y/n: babe

jk: he has hasn’t he?

KILL ME NOWWWWWWWWEEWWWWWEJEJEJJEJEJWJWWWWENENEJEJEJNEJEJEENENNENNWJEJEJEJJEJWJEJEJEJEJEJEEJJWJWEJJEJWJWJWJWJEJEJEJENEJEJEJEJEJEJEJJEEJJEJEJJWJEJWJWJJWWJJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJJWJWNWNWNWNWWNWNWNWNWNWNWNENENNENENENENDNRNNRNDNNRNDNENENNENENENENENENENENNE

but can even sing?

y/n: yes kook

that is literally his job

jk: NOOSIEOSOSOOSOSOSOOOOO SNJSJSJDJDJSJSJDNMDNDMDNCMDMNDNDMDNDNDNDNDNDNNXJDJDN SNJSJSNDMDMDNDNDJDKXJDCJNXXNNCDNNXNXNX SJSJZKSJXNSJXJX JSJXMMXMX JXNXNDNNXNNDXNSNDN SJDJNDNXNXJXJX JSJXJXNXJCXJXJSISKS SJDJDJNDNDNDNDKNXXND NSJXJJDJXJDJD NJDJDJSJSJSJDJKDKDD DNDJKXKXKDXNXJX JSJDNDJDJSKISISOSKSKKS

there are so many tears in my eyes i can’t see

i cant think

i cant be

my left lung has given out and i’m losing hearing in both my ears

they are probably gonna have to amputate both my big toes and a couple fingers

it’s fading too black

baby

babe

pretty girl

can you hear me

do you care for me

did you ever care

did you even love me

y/n: jeon jungkook

jk: loml

y/n: get over it

jk: ok

y/n: ….

jk: i’m sorry

i love you

what even is a wonbin?

my biggest enemy in this life thats who

y/n: what happened to being sorry and over it?

jk: but babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

everyone is saying he’s like in love with you

and he can do a kick flip

what if you pick him

y/n: i said he could probably do a kick flip

not that he actually can

why does that even matter?

jk: cuz kick flips are cool

and bitch takeable

y/n: what

jk: he might pop a kick flip out of nowhere and steal you

i cant have that

y/n: learn how to kick flip then idk?

jk: BUT YOU TOOK MY SKATEBOARD AWAY

y/n: oh yeah i did

didnt you almost brake ur face?????

AND you kept riding it in the house

pretty reasonable of me

jk: so what ur saying that ur waiting for wonbin to kick flip in front of you

y/n: ?????????

no

jungkook i am not leaving u for wonbin

jk: you say that but when he drops the most sexiest panty dropping kick flip known to man right in front of you i’m gonna be left single and depressed

y/n: you are stressing me out

jk: can i have the skateboard back

y/n: no

jk: 😞

Y/n: i said no jungkook

jk: 😕

y/n: stop

jk: ☹️

y/n: fine whatever idk break all ur bones

jk: kick flip kook coming soon >.<

JIMIN -

jimin: pretend i’m wonho for a second ok?

y/n: wonho?

jimin: yeah wonho

y/n: boob

jimin: hey lol ur really pretty 😍 😋❤️‍🔥 you should totally ditch that ugly lame excuse of a boyfriend you have (jimin) 🤢🤮 and come be my girl 💯🤗🥰❤️❤️❤️❤️

y/n: boob 🤤

jimin: be mine

y/n: show me ur tits

jimin: u fucking cheating bitch

y/n: wonho don’t be mean 😢

jimin: i am no longer wonho

i am jimin

y/n: lame

turn back

we want wonho

we want wonho

jimin: who is we

y/n: me and the voices in my head idk

jimin: even the voices not even fucking with me anymore???

ohmygod

the wonho shippers were right

y/n: what the shippers saying

jimin: “y/n just looks so bored with jimin” “did you see her smile when wonho was mentioned”

y/n: WAITTTT THEY SPITTING 🙏🏽🔥🔥🔥

jimin: do you know how insane that is

LIKE YOU LOOK BORED WITH ME

BABE LIKE THATS SO INSANE

y/n: ig u got to get ur funny up idk

jimin: do you understand how this is impacting my mental health

y/n: i like when their a bit insane dw 😍

jimin: i’m real fucking insane

i hear voices

constantly

they tell me to do things

i listen to jay park

you like that huh?

y/n: ok calm down i said a bit insane not jay park lover insane

wtf is wrong with you

jimin: are you bored

y/n: sorry what were you saying i almost felt asleep

jimin: i hope wonho treats you right

y/n: yk i’m tit level to wonho

isn’t that perfect

my face just all up in there

constantly

jimin: me and him are the same height?

y/n: ok but it’s more exciting with wonho

jimin: should i get a boob job???

y/n: please

jimin: WOW

the standards these days are insane

you were supposed to tell me my body is perfect the way it is

y/n: it is

jimin: wow ur so convincing!!!

y/n: i mean it fr fr babe love u body yk that

little tittes matter too

im for the cause!!!!!!!!!!

jimin: i came to you for love and reassurance

y/n: i think i provided

jimin: i’m gonna kill myself infront on wonho

so he’s traumatised

y/n: i did say i like them a bit insane

but whose to say he’ll go insane from watching YOU die????

jimin: excuse me?

y/n: i’m just saying

jimin: a lot of people would go insane from watching ME die

y/n: not wonho

jimin: you can never be too sure

y/n: no i’m sure

jimin: are you trying to find out rn???

y/n: do it

you won’t

jimin: do you love me be honest

y/n: the most

jimin: fucking simp lmao

NAMJOON -

y/n: HIIIIIII JOONIE 😝😍

namjoon: hi

y/n: ????????????????????????????????

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

namjoon: ?

y/n: where is my “hi love”

where is the love

where is the life

not even a silly emoji???????????

who took my bitch

namjoon: death soon i hope

y/n: emo era joon omg?

namjoon: where are u rn?

y/n: some boba place with tae and kook

namjoon: oh

we’ve never gotten boba together

y/n: you don’t like boba joon??

namjoon: taste buds change??

y/n: we can go on a boba date tomorrow if you want?

namjoon: no

y/n: LAMOSOSK

ok babe

namjoon: yk people think ur fucking tae?

y/n: ew

namjoon: i’m not joking

like people think you’re cheating on me with tae

y/n: people always think i’m cheating

namjoon: yeah…

but like not with tae :/

and there isn’t always all these edits and stuff

people are even in our weverse talking about it

y/n: people are so silly

namjoon: yeah

…

why are you calling me?

y/n: why aren’t you answering?

namjoon: don’t want to interrupt ur date

y/n: my date???

namjoon: your date.

y/n: namjoon

namjoon: yeah

y/n: ur being silly

namjoon: in this clip ur looking at tae like he hung the all stars in the sky for you or something

y/n: get off twitter

namjoon: i’m gonna end my life

y/n: babe

namjoon: cheater 😔

y/n: jonnie r u jealous rn >.<

namjoon: i’m not jealous

y/n: what are you then?

namjoon: heartbroken?

sad

depressed

on the verge of suicide

y/n: tipsy?

namjoon: NO HAHA WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT??????

y/n: yeah thought so

this is a little out of character of you babe

kinda jungkook core idk

namjoon: did you just compare me to jungkook???????????????????????

do you want me to kill myself that bad

oh my god

are you fucking jungkook too??????

y/n: ?????

namjoon: is boba code for sex

y/n: no namjoon

namjoon: yeah ok

cheater 😞

after i learned what rizz was for you..

y/n: i’m am not fucking tae or jungkook my love

namjoon: was my rizz not good enough

y/n: are you listening to me joonie????

namjoon: it wasn’t was it

ofc it wasn’t

i’m sorry i wasn’t good enough

sorry i didn’t have enough rizz

i’m really sorry

y/n: namjoon

namjoon: no you know what

i really tried it wasn’t my fault

no one deserves to be cheated on like this

it’s all your fault

y/n: oh

namjoon: i’m guilt tripping you

y/n: what

namjoon: are you coming home now?

y/n: ???

namjoon: baby

y/n: you can’t tell someone ur guilt tripping them

that’s not how it works

namjoon: baby i’m not guilt tripping you

y/n: it’s too late now

i know what ur doing

namjoon: baby

y/n: wait…..

namjoon: waiting

y/n: no

ur not

namjoon: baby what’s wrong???

y/n: baby?

don’t tell me ur horny rn joon

namjoon: would that be so bad baby?

y/n: these mood swings??? insane actually

thought i was a cheater

now you wanna fuck???

namjoon: life is crazy

are you coming home???

or would you rather fuck taehyung instead

my fault

i’ll just go…

y/n: ur toxic

namjoon: ur a cheater

come home cheater

y/n: yeah yeah give me 20

HOSEOK -

hobi: hawk putuh

ik ur awake

and i know you see these rumours

y/n: did you just fucking spit on me??

hobi: yeah and what

will do it again

hawk putuh

told you

i don’t lie in these parts of town

don’t enjoy it too much

flipping freak

y/n: what rumours

hobi: don’t ignore my second spit wtf

y/n: shut up

hobi: u trying to get drunk and nasty rn? 😝

y/n: ?no

hobi: no u right we supposed to be arguing

y/n: i’m always right

and why are we supposed to be arguing?

hobi: umm that’s NOT true

and people are literally shipping you with mingyu rn…

y/n: how is that my fault

hobi: WRONG ANSWER

hawk putuh

y/n: stop spitting on me

hobi: you like it

y/n: no i don’t

hobi: wow you’ve changed

you used to like it

did mingyu change you???

where is the y/n i know and love

where is my y/n who likes spit

you should never let a man change you

be who you are

and what who you are is my spit loving girlfriend so act like it

y/n: i have never let you spit on me

like ever

hobi: why is that ur focus rn

you should be denying the fact that you’ve changed for mingyu

y/n: i haven’t changed for mingyu and i don’t like spit leave me alone

it’s 2 am hoseok

hobi: why are they shipping you with him what the hell pretty 😞

i’m in my feels rn

feeling aju not fucking nice rn

y/n: cheer up

hobi: no

y/n: ok fuck you then

hobi: i bet mingyu is giggling and blushing and at all of these stupid edits

UGH

by bts

i’m sick to my stomach

y/n: get better

hobi: word on the street is head makes the pain go away

y/n: on the street by jhope ft jcole

hobi: would you give head to mingyu be honest

y/n: you don’t want my honesty right now…

hobi: i do

y/n: let’s just say

hobi: NVM

nvm

let’s not say anything

how about we just hold hands at look each other deeply in the eyes

y/n: i’m cool with that

hobi: are you cool with mingyu

y/n: cool with you by newjeans

hobi: me?

little old me >.<

y/n: always you

hobi: lol stop loveboming me wtf

y/n: yeah kys

about to give mingyu the sloppiest top known to man

hobi: mingyu doesn’t even like girls like you

y/n: girls like me???

hobi: yeah

i don’t need to explain i think you get it

y/n: are you calling me ugly rn…

hobi: you said it not me

y/n: ok

hobi: ok

y/n: hawk putuh

hobi: you didn’t….

y/n: i did

hobi: what fuck

y/n: yeah and what

hobi: what if i said

y/n: no

hobi: yeah

i enjoyed it real bad

do it again

let me catch it this time

😋

y/n: fuck off fuck you leave me alone

hobi: mingyu would never treat you like i do

y/n: i’m sold

tell mingyu i’m on my way

hobi: …

—

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @sopebubbles-replies

lowkey hating joons and kooks but it’s okay better shit to come this just my warm up ong 🙏🏽💯🔥