#but he just can't get sad when he warned him about this shit nonstop

[ntj2pj]

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 10 (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; depression; feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; arguing; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; revisited, vivid memories of sex; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; suuuuper sore boobs; negative self-talk (stretch marks specifically); talk of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones...things get heatedddd; reader and jake are both stubborn + turned on, but can't be together and it's TOUGH; cheating; heavy petting; rubbing of bodies against each other (see: dry humping); hands on boobs oopsies (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 16.7k+

a/n: hi babes… <3 this is my personal favorite part out of the two… so, let me know how you feel… ;) love u all. busy day! i'm so sorry it's late. plz know i love you all sm <3

s/o to @joshym who is my favorite and the most wonderful encourager and sister in the entire universe. i love you more than i can say. you make life sunny and everything better <3

also, @alwaysonthemend, i love you so incredibly much and i’m so grateful for you and your unwavering support and texts that never fail to make my day <3

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

“The covetous man pines in plenty, like Tantalus up to the chin in water, and yet thirsty.”

-Thomas Adams

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 25, 2022

Friendsgiving. A standing, solid tradition since the first Thanksgiving you’d spent as Josh’s friend. It had always been you, Elsie, Josh, Sam, and Daniel.

But this year, you’d be entertaining new people. One you were incredibly grateful for. Jake. And one you weren’t even slightly sure about.

Maya.

She was the last person you wanted to celebrate a holiday all about Thankfulness with. But, you had to. Stupid ass shit that you couldn’t control, so you had to just pretend to be fine with it. 

To your benefit, you had a distraction – a fantastic, welcome one in Elsie. Elsie and a morning of grocery shopping.

For Friendsgiving, in a group chat between you two and the rest of the boys, Elsie had insisted that you two be in charge of pies. So, you two were currently wandering the aisles of Walmart with Pinterest up, recipes open to several flavors of pies that Elsie had decided the two of you should make.

And the way to make homemade crust since she refused to use store bought. 

“It will be a fun thing to try,” she’d sworn, aggressively pinning a couple to your shared board.

You were the one in charge of grabbing things off the shelves, while she pushed the cart and bossed at you what to grab for each recipe. The makings for apple pie and pumpkin pie already rumbled around in the cart. So, now you were on to the final pies and their ingredients. The few cans of cherry pie filling had just landed in the cart when Elsie decided to confront you about Jake. 

“What’s going on between you and Lover Boy?” She asked, trying to sound absentminded in her question, but you knew she was not thinking of it randomly. She’d most definitely waited for a moment to hit you with the question when you were forced to respond. 

And, you were. You were currently completely stranded at a Walmart with only her and one car to get you back to the apartment. There was no escaping the question. So, you decided to do what you could and only answer halfway.

“Well, he knows,” you started, grabbing a bag of sugar off the shelf, avoiding her eyes. “And things are going good.”

“What a vague response,” she hummed. “Why don’t you grab a couple cans of blueberry filling and hit me with full honesty.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the can and turned to face her. A blush painted your cheeks that you couldn’t avoid. “I am being honest. He knows and things are good.”

“Yeah, that answer works for a random Joe, but not your sister. I’m not here for the fucking cliff notes.”

“I don’t care what you’re ‘here for’, Elsie,” you grumbled, turning to walk ahead of her toward the flour. “And why didn’t you ask me this yesterday when we had the entire day at Grandma and Grandpa��s?”

“It didn’t really feel like the right time to ask,” she defended, pointing to a particular bag of flour, which you grabbed and put in the cart. “I also didn’t want to stop talking about the ridiculous fangirl experience because that shit was hilarious,” she paused, gasping. “Oh! Speaking of fangirls and the other guys. . . When are you planning on telling Josh? I'm dying to start planning a baby shower and I want him to help me.”

“He didn’t tell you that I told him before my first–?”

“You told him?!” She asked, astonished. The cart squeaked to a halt behind you. 

Turning around with a laugh ready at your lips, you gawked at her. “What is wrong with you, Dramatic Ass?”

“Um,” she sharply started, hand on a hip. “My sister and my boyfriend are keeping me in the dark, that’s what’s wrong.”

“Josh is busy and I’m busy,” you responded slowly. “We’re not 'keeping you in the dark'. Also, he just found out a few weeks ago. It’s not like he’s known for–.”

“A few weeks?!”

You swiveled fully around to face her completely. “Els. Josh has never been one to talk about other people and their lives to shoot the breeze. You know this. He wasn’t going to bring it up if it didn’t concern him.”

“Well, it does. It concerns both of us. Aunt and uncle? Hello?”

“It’s also just a giant ass thing that I’m sure he’s still processing,” you argued. “Give him a fucking break.”

“I’m bringing this up to him,” she stubbornly stated, huffing and everything. “I’m going to make him own up to not telling me he knew.”

“You knew and didn’t tell him,” you reminded her. 

“That’s different; you didn’t want me to tell him.”

“And what if he thought I didn’t want you guys talking about it at all? He’s very sensitive to stuff of that nature.”

“I don’t know. I’m still asking him,” she firmly stated, continuing to push the cart forward, effectively ending the conversation with her tone. 

And, much to your joy, dropping the other part of the conversation as she went on a sassy rant about something Josh had done recently that pissed her off. 

It lasted all the way home and you were damn happy. . .

Although, you did have to work a little magic to get her to stop being such an over-thinker and asshole when it came to Josh. You had to give a plentiful amount of examples as to how he was all of these amazing things wrapped in one and not the person her mind was trying to convince her that he was. 

She had trauma and abandonment issues, too. . . she just didn't always show them like you.

But. . . it made you pause. Made you think of yourself and Jake. . . . your mind went to the clouds as you thought of your feelings towards him. You were still like this as you helped her carry in groceries, and only snapped out of it when she started bossing you again. Except this time, she was annoyingly giving you jobs around the kitchen to prepare the blessed pies.

-🌼🌼🌼-  

Jake had been the main chef for Friendsgiving.

All day, the apartment smelled heavenly thanks to his wondrous cooking. He'd started way early in the morning, and had awoken you with the incredible smells. . . but you had forced yourself to lay in bed rather than going about your morning routine. Truthfully, you really hadn't had to force yourself too much as you heard Maya's voice make unwelcome waves around the apartment through your door. You weren't in the mood for any of it this morning considering last night. Last night, when you'd seen him and Maya. . . . . Yeah, you'd still been in the process of blocking that the fuck out.

So, you'd only caught a little glimpse of him buzzing around the kitchen before Elsie and Josh had shown up. At which point, Elsie had been ready to hit Wally World.

But, now that you were back, you'd noticed that he'd taken charge of a few very important tasks. He'd roasted a giant turkey in the oven, made rolls and mashed potatoes from scratch, and a delicious gravy to accompany all of his dishes. Josh had been in charge of casseroles, and the other two hooligan men had been in charge of drinks and salad (a big bag of lettuce from Walmart with a bottle of Ranch and a plastic container of cherry tomatoes). 

Maya had been in charge of nothing, claiming via Jake that she would be helping him. But all day long, she’d just sat around, looking way too stupidly pretty, and watched him cook. Lazy ass. 

While you and Elsie slaved away at dessert, thankfully Jake was done with his preparations (save for the turkey that still cooked and created the most appetizing aroma). Meaning that Maya had followed him and wasn’t looming in the background as you made pie.

Which was good because you really did not need her around you any more than she had to be.

As you made pie after pie and sat them on top of the oven to go in once the turkey came out, you filled Elsie in on everything else that had taken place in your life as of late. Told her about the emergency room visit and everything you’d found out at the E.R.; how you’d come up with a solid morning routine to attempt a healthier pregnancy; and any intricate therapy detail that came to mind. 

The boys had been sitting in the living room, playing music on a few guitars (Josh, filling up the apartment with old Elvis tunes). Then, opting to talk for the majority of the time.

So, you'd been able to gain precious time with your sister. She had encouraged you and supported you just like you knew she would. She’d also gotten onto you for not taking better care of yourself and not taking prenatal vitamins sooner.

“You fucking idiot,” she laughed, bumping your shoulder with hers as she passed you in the kitchen with the last pie. “No, but really. I’m sorry that you’d been so stressed and overwhelmed to the point of forgetting to do shit like that. I wish I’d lived closer to you for the beginning of it all.”

Your ears perked up at that. “Yeah. . . Me too,” you said slyly, considering options as they filtered through your head. “What would it take for you to move closer? I don’t want to be selfish, I just don’t want to do this without you.” 

But, after the words came out  of your mouth, you heard just how selfish they sounded. Though, thinking about her being with you for the baby had been something at the back of your mind that you’d been contemplating for weeks. It didn’t mean you needed to drop that fucking bomb on her though. . . The baby wasn’t her thoughtless decision that she needed to change her life for. . . It wasn’t fair to her. 

“I’m sorry, Els,” you slapped a hand to your forehead, shutting your eyes to avoid any further self-induced embarrassment. “I didn’t even think about that before it slipped out. You don’t have to change any—.”

“Well,” she started, coming close to you and removing your hand from your head. As she held your hand in hers, she continued speaking. You opened your eyes to her. “That was actually my thing that I was waiting to tell you. . .,” she paused, trailing off. A slow smile lit up her features as her eyes brightened. “I put in a request for an office job attached to the company I work through. An office job for a branch of the company - based here in New York. . . Told them I didn’t want to travel any longer and that I’d appreciate something steadier as life changes. . .”

Your ears filled with excited static. “What?!” You gasped, eyes lifting with hope. “What did they say?!” 

“Well, a few people talked to a few people, and the director of the program I’m in gave his permission and then recommendation to that part of the company,” she rushed out. “So, in a few months, I’ll finish out my contract for this job and be living here full time for the new one.”

There was almost no time between the moment she’d said the words and the moment you’d leapt from your spot in the kitchen to give her the tightest hug you could muster. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

She looked fucking gorgeous today. Everyday, in fact. But for the past couple of days, all I could think about was how thankful I was to have her in my life. Tis the season. No matter what, I was very thankful for her. . . For so many reasons. 

Though, the most prominent reason in my mind at the moment was how thankful I was to her for carrying our baby. So selfless and motherly and lovely. . .

So, I couldn’t help stealing repeated glances at her. I just hoped I wasn’t being too obvious. She was always beautiful, stunning—actual perfection walking—but the fact that our baby was in her belly just made matters much worse for me. She glowed in a way that she never had before. . . Drew my eye to her in a way that couldn’t be stopped.

It was wrong for me to look at her like this. I was in a serious relationship with someone else. . . I definitely shouldn’t have been eyeing her the way I was through the open layout, into the kitchen from my spot in the armchair. And especially not while I had my arm wrapped around my extremely hot girlfriend, and her nice fuckin' ass sitting halfway on my lap.

And, really. . . y/n had effectively broken—no, shattered—my heart all of those months ago in the kitchen. She shouldn't have drawn my eye to her the way she did after what she'd said. But, I really couldn't hold that against her any longer. It didn't matter as much as it once had. . . not anymore.

But, we weren’t meant to be. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted us to be. . . It seemed too difficult for the two of us to manage. And, I had Maya. . . Mayamayamaya.

I would've been lying, though, if I said she wasn’t the most incredibly created human being. She was sculpted by the gods. . . Meticulously made to ruin me. When she really shouldn't. Fuck.

And now that she held my baby. . . The way her tummy rounded out more than usual, under her sweater—that shit left me completely speechless.

The way she held pregnancy was unparalleled to every other woman that had ever done it before. She was ethereal. And as great as Maya's ass was, there was truly no comparing it to the way y/n's ass looked in those leggings I’d seen her wear no less than a million times before. . . And just like every time before, I wanted to walk up behind her and feel the curve of it. Rip them the fuck down and bend her - dammit. I was so fuckin’ weak for her.

But anytime I felt Maya move against my arm, or lap, or smelled her perfume wave off of her with an action, I was reminded of how completely wrong it was for me to be checking y/n out. It was wrong how I couldn’t get her out of my head—all the time, she was there. Even in the most intimate moments with Maya, she kept creeping the fuck into my thoughts. 

But, truly, it just happened. Couldn't control it.

And, even when I got up to check on the turkey once more, I couldn’t help my reaction when I passed her. When I'd accidentally brushed past her on her way out, the way my heart pounded in my chest as our bodies touched for a millisecond. She smelled so sweet—just like a damned sugar cookie. And the way she’d passed so delicately against me. Her top half had pressed against me for a stolen moment in time, her eyes catching mine as her precious bump skimmed my waist.

And her breasts. Felt those, too.

My chest tightened and my dick twitched—it was almost too much. The air was stolen from my lungs. 

We were so close for those few seconds.

“Sorry,” she hushed, her eyes flicking up to look at me. A small smile was sitting on her lips, more out of embarrassment than anything. Her cheeks were the prettiest pink under my gaze.

But she wasn’t the one to be embarrassed. I was the only one who should have been embarrassed — for how I was instantly a teenage boy again, just because of a little brush from her body. 

“Don’t be,” I mouthed, like we were sharing a secret. My lips lifted to reassure her and my eyes lit up with an emotion I couldn’t explain if I tried. 

Her face softened at my expression, and then she was gone. 

And once I’d gotten the turkey out of the oven, I was mostly back to normal. I’d forced myself to think about sad images of roadkill enough to ruin the mood I’d set in my head. 

After breathing a few deep breaths, I called out that dinner was ready and all I could do was hope for the best for the rest of the day. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thanksgiving carried on from when lunch started at two in the afternoon, to the evening, and saw your friend group (and Maya) sitting around the living room.

You were all bouncing back and forth with the Roku remote. Rotating around your semi-circle, every person took a turn choosing a YouTube video to cast.

It had turned into a sort of game of who could play a song that meant something to someone else in the room. Jake had just had the remote, right before Elsie, and had played a song for Josh. It had been some song from Seussical The Musical, to which Josh had sung along to every word. He’d even gone so far as to get up to do a little performance of the song. 

“That’s exactly how it went,” Josh had chuckled heartily, the sound starting deep and lilting at the end. He dropped his arms from an obviously rehearsed dance routine, the song ending on a final high note. “I swear to God.”

“Oh, Joshua,” Sam’s eyes bugged as he looked at Jake with a laugh, who shared the moment of humor with him. “Trust me. We remember. Every single high school theatre production,” Sammy shook, as if reliving a traumatic memory. "All of it is seared into my poor, poor brain."

"Samuel, shut the fuck-," Josh started, before getting interrupted by his twin.

“Day in and day fucking out, Josh. That’s how often we heard those songs at home— for the months leading up to that damn musical,” Jake raised a thick brow. It made your tummy do somersaults - he was so handsome. “And I was lucky enough to hear it from backstage as crew. . . Every single rehearsal.”

“Yeah, you really fucking hated those songs,” Josh noted with a bubbling laugh, sitting back down next to Elsie, his arm falling around her shoulders. “Why would you make yourself suffer through that again?”

“Just playing the game,” Jake shrugged, rolling his eyes with a smile. He handed the remote over to Elsie, who sat on the couch, next to where he sat on the floor, in front of the couch. “But goddamn if I don’t ever hear it again, it will still be too soon.”

Sam agreed with a toast, raising his beer bottle as Jake lifted his. They nodded at each other from across the room. And you stared on, getting distracted by the woman who sat on the couch, criss-cross-applesauce, behind him, braiding his hair. 

Fuck that bitch, you thought hotly— ridiculously.

Admittedly, it took too far too long to look away from her pop-up salon. But you eventually did, and watched the screen as Elsie started typing something into the search bar. 

You knew better than to feel jealous of her. But, you couldn’t help eyeing her from your place, as you snuggled into the armchair with your favorite fluffy blanket covering you. Just wanted to let the chair swallow you, so you nestled deeper and closed your eyes to imagine it.

“This is one of y/n’s favorites,” Elsie said, the pre-video ad starting on the television. “The first time she watched this, her life changed. The perfect mix of her love for classic rock and soul music.”

Instantly, you knew exactly which song she was talking about. And when the video started, your heart expanded in your chest, making everything feel fuzzy and light. Everything felt okay. 

Change the World. . . . the Unplugged version. Eric Clapton and Babyface. . . . so many memories.

“This is our childhood,” you said, voice thick with emotion. The amount of tears you cried on a weekly basis was nothing short of humiliating. The baby hormones were vicious in their attack.

“I can’t tell you how many times we heard this as kids,” Elsie affirmed, looking over at Josh. 

“Grandpa is a strangely huge fan of Babyface,” you giggled, throat loosening a little as the laughter bubbled from your chest. “This Unplugged vinyl played on a loop for a period of time.”

“It was that year we bought it for him for Christmas,” Elsie added, agreeing. She was watching the screen with tears in her eyes, too. “But you ended up loving it so much,” she looked over to where you sat. “That the next Christmas you got your own vinyl of it. From yours truly. You're welcome." She winked, blowing a little kiss your way.

“I do take partial blame for the constant looping on the living room record player,” you smiled, winking at her. 

She winked back. “Yeah, you and Grandpa had equal hand in his Unplugged record warping on this song.”

You grinned, sticking your tongue out at her as she did the same. When Eric Clapton started singing, you gave the screen your full attention. The sound of this song only brought back the happiest memories. Even before hearing Babyface’s cover, it was a family favorite. It was a song that made you feel whole. 

It was the one song your Grandpa loved to sing to you. . . Before this version had ever come to your family’s attention. He'd sing it in those soft moments that felt like glowing rays of sun hitting your skin on a hazy summer evening.

But when your Grandpa had heard the Unplugged cover on the radio, the Earth had shifted for him. . . And even though it didn’t top your Grandpa singing it, the cover featuring Clapton held a special place in your heart with how often you’d heard it bouncing off the walls of the living room. It played so often that you associated it with some of your best days. . .

You'd still been innocent enough, still, to enjoy the world through a rose-tinted lens. And, far enough away from the trauma with your Mom that life had felt new. Ironically, the cover of the song had come around when your world was finally feeling like it had changed. It had been an intricately timed re-release of the lullaby your Grandfather had once poured over you as you’d drift to sleep on both restful and restless nights. The song felt safe – sort of like your Grandmother’s cooking felt for you. 

“You know, it’s funny,” Josh’s voice cut through your drifting thoughts. You kept watching the two men on screen, but tuned in to your best friend’s dialogue. “Jake loved this version, too. When YouTube came around, he would watch this version back to back, trying to memorize the way Babyface and Eric complimented each other on their guitars. He always wanted–.”

“To play both parts and record them on top of each other," Jake finished, watching the screen intently. You’d let your eyes wander from the screen momentarily to see his expression after hearing Josh’s story. He still looked utterly invested; just like you imagined he had looked as a kid re-watching it over and over again on YouTube. “It’s not really an intricate piece. . . I just found it at a time when I wanted to try everything I could on guitar. I knew how to play better than most 14 year olds, yes, but I still didn’t know half as much as I do now,” he explained, never looking away from the musicians. 

You saw movement at his waist, and when you looked down to observe, he seemed to be playing a guitar part in the air. And you knew if he picked up the instrument right now, he’d match one of the men in time. Whichever one he was currently studying - you couldn’t tell. 

“I don’t know why I never recorded myself playing both parts. Synced them over each other,” Jake mused, still playing in the air. “I used Garage Band like it was an addictive fucking drug–.”

“You can say that again,” Sam inserted, acting annoyed but still grinning so wide all the same. 

“But I just forgot about it, I guess,” the older, long-haired brother continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I’m getting the urge to do it again now – it’s coming back strong,” he chuckled, looking down at his fingers with a brow raised–just like he’d do if he was actually playing. 

It was fucking hot to watch him play so intently with nothing there to support him. Only his mind, full of the memorized chords from years ago. And to a song that meant so much to you. 

“I’m sure the guys at the studio would let you do it with their recording equipment,” Danny offered, also watching the famed musicians with intrigue, glancing over at Jake. 

Jake sucked in a breath, dropping his air guitar before leaning back against Maya, closing his eyes and sighing with one particular scratch of her nails against his scalp as she tugged out the french braid to start another.

Gag. You could vomit at the sight of their mushy-gushy behavior.

Your hand floated to your stomach to remind yourself of one thing you had that she didn’t. 

“Nah,” Jake sighed, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I feel like it has to be done without the expensive stuff. It has to be recorded in a way that baby Jake would have recorded it. . . I just–,” He wrinkled a brow, releasing a grumble under his breath.

There was something he was concerned about. . .

And, as he sat back up to watch the men finish out the song, Maya made a little huffing noise, crossing her arms over her impressive chest. But, in all of her perfection, she covered the noise with a small smile and a shake of her head. Just seemed to be joking with her little bratty act.

Oh, how cute and funny.

She’d looked over at Sammy, who’d made a little sound at Jake’s words. You followed the line of sight.

“What’s the deal, brother?” Sammy questioned, leaning forward to emphasize his care for Jake. 

“I just don’t have the time to do a little side project like that–can’t even think about prioritizing it,” he replied, combing a hand through his hair, untangling anything that resembled a braid. Maya did outwardly pout at that. She whined his name and said something about her hard work. You couldn’t help the tiny smirk that lifted your lips at the scene. You tried your best to hide it, and just focused on the screen again. “And even calling it a project sounds silly with everything else going on in life right now.”

Before you could feel too guilty for the situation under your palm that added to everything going on in his life, Josh spoke up with a giant gasp.  

“Baby Jake!” The curly-headed twin exclaimed. You all looked in his direction, equally confused with knitted brows. “That’s just it; record it like you would have back then with the intention that it’s for your baby. Something fun to do. But. . . You’ll prioritize the time if it’s for the baby. If you look at it that way, it won’t seem silly at all," he wiped his palms, arm back over Elsie as he finished with jazz hands. "Ta-da!"

As the song concluded and the next ad started (an ad for baby diapers, of all things), Maya was urgently pushing Jake out of the way, claiming she needed to pee. And as she passed between your line of sight and Jake’s, you realized you were zoning out on him when your eyes met his, just as she rounded the couch. 

He gave you a small smile, his eyes staying on yours, floating down to where your belly hid under your blanket, and then back to your face when he responded to Josh’s idea. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan, Josh,” he said, gaze never once leaving yours. 

The fire that rose from the pit of your tummy, all the way to your cheeks was not a new feeling with Jake, but for some reason. . . this time, it felt unlike any time ever before. 

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Everyone had stayed, having decided to lounge on couches for the night to sleep. They were all in equally deep slumbers (save for Maya, most likely still completely awake and waiting for Jake in his bed). 

You’d all stayed up until the wee hours of the morning–much later than you had in a long time. The only way you’d been able to make it, the tiny cat naps you’d dozed in and out of. As you’d done that, everyone else had continued on with their little YouTube game. 

Now, here you were, completely exhausted, practically dragging yourself to bed, ready to sleep. Just barely managed to wash your face before Jake had hopped into the bathroom, right after you, to brush his teeth.

But before you could make it inside your room, he passed by behind you. You weren’t even looking. You’d just smelled his heavenly cologne, a favorite scent of yours (and the baby’s, apparently) flood the space around you. You knew he wasn’t actually drenched in the smell of sandalwood and vanilla, but your baby-powered-super-senses could’ve convinced you otherwise. He smelled delicious and you could easily drown in him. 

Though, instead of focusing on that, you let yourself act on something that was threatening to leave your lips. No matter how hard you tried to stop it, your tired brain wouldn’t let the words halt. 

“Please don’t stop pursuing your dream or any other thing just because of everything that’s happening with me and the baby,” you rushed out, peeking up through your lashes for a moment before locking eyes with your hand on the knob of your door. “I don’t want you to ever feel like this is taking up too much space in your life or causing any unnecessary stress. You can back out whenever you want if you feel like that’s what you need and I won’t be upset with you for—.”

“No,” Jake responded, soft and stern, moving to stand in front of you. You had no choice but to look up at him, he was standing so close to you. His eyes bore into yours. “I’m not going to back out. I couldn’t do that–wouldn’t ever do that. I want this. I promise. It’s everything else, I think, that’s stressful. The baby is something I get to look forward to,” he reassured, his voice wavering just enough to worry you. 

But you didn’t let it get to you. Tiredness prevailed above any doubtful emotion you could’ve mustered. You could only sleepily nod your head at his words. 

“The baby inspires me even more to make it all happen,” he rasped in a velvety tone, assuring you. After, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Your sleepy eyes slowly followed the motion. You wished it was you. “Everything else is still exciting, too. . . But it’s a lot and it gets me thinking about how different everything is about to be. It’s scary. But– it’s. . . the baby makes it all seem brighter. Better. I’m not just doing it for me anymore. Not even for my brothers. It’s for my baby,” his full lips spread into a loose, close-mouthed grin. “Our baby.”

Your tummy flip-flopped and all you wanted to do at that moment was kiss him. You felt the slightest inkling that he wanted the same, with the way he’d brought his body in front of you, closer than he needed to. But. . . you blamed it all on tiredness. There was no way you could trust yourself to make actual, coherent assumptions. You were getting carried away, and even though you wondered of the possibility that he could want it, you cut off the idea. 

Tired or not, you knew one thing. He didn’t want you. He had a girlfriend. A real relationship with a woman much more beautiful than you. So, before you could get trapped in his big, beautiful brown eyes any longer, you decided to bid him goodnight. 

Though, just as you’d opened your door to go into your room, he stopped you. “Hey, real quick,” he cleared his throat. You looked up at him, confused at the sudden stop. “Maya–um,” he shook his head, brows furrowed as he 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.” 

He was right there - a step away. His breath, fanning over your face. You could smell the mint of his toothpaste. “Obviously with limits,” his voice lowered a bit as his eyes peered down at you. 

What was that supposed to mean? Surely he didn’t mean. . . But, you responded the only way you could think to.

“Obviously. . .,” you trailed off, 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.” 

“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend,” he replied, voice rasping on a hitched breath. His body felt as though it was wrapped around yours in an act of protection. He’d brought his hand up, above your heads, as his body curved in towards you. After a pause, he continued. “But I don’t want to make any boundaries with the baby ever. Not at all. I want to be present. From now until always.” 

Suddenly, the moment was gone for you. There was no way he’d ever meant it as anything more. All he’d meant was you needed to remember there were boundaries. This was all about the baby. It was selfish to ever think any different. 

You knew better than to believe any different than that. Your thoughts got out of hand so damn easily these days. Why did you let them wander so far when you fucking knew better?

You backed up, your back touching the doorframe behind you. He scrunched his brows, but you weren’t sure why he was acting confused. It was late. You were definitely imagining things. He was just tired, too. . . that was all. 

“So. . .,” he cleared his throat. “Just let me know however I can help with the baby. Please.” 

“Okay,” you whispered with a quiet nod of your head.

“Okay,” he muttered with a gentle, distant grin. He nodded his head as well. And right before he opened the door to his room, his words barely touched the air as he told you goodnight. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

November 28, 2022

Covid. Gia had Covid.

Your heart broke for her having to deal with that absolutely terrible illness. And your nerves were climbing up the wall at not being able to see her. She wasn’t so bad that you couldn’t email her if you had questions or needed advice. But, you also knew better than to bother someone who was sick with something like Covid. 

So, you were spending the time that you would have been gearing up to go to Gia’s office, on this chilly autumn day, pacing back and forth in your living room. Cuticles thin from chewing and perspiration accumulated at your hairline and under your arms, you weren’t sure what to do. 

The idea of losing time on healing before the baby arrived was stressful to say the very least. You didn’t want to be any less of a mother than your baby deserved. He or she deserved a mentally stable mom. . . and in order to get there, you required several hours on Gia’s couch. 

All that could wave through your one-track mind was how terrible you felt for being so stressed about your healing while Gia was so sick. She was the one who needed to get healthy sooner rather than later.

You tried to remember the words Gia had put at the tail end of the email she had sent. She’d put in a few words that reminded you how well she knew you.

Don’t stress too much about the session being cancelled. :) Things happen and we have plenty of time, y/n.

Those words, typed specifically to assure you. Except, you’d worked yourself up too much for it to work very well after you’d read the title line of her email. Just a few, simple words: Out Sick – Sorry!

If even Gia’s words weren’t helping to calm your nerves, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through to the next appointment.

After an hour of feeling unsure about literally everything, you decided the only way you were going to make it was by doing some other form of self care. And the first thing that came to your mind was food. Food always sounded good these days (nausea taking a backseat thanks to your meds and second trimester), and it would help you feel better while also supporting the baby’s health in the womb.

But it took you no time to get sad because you didn’t know what kind of food you wanted. . .

You’d resolved to just not being able to win at life for the day when you heard the front door jingle on the other side with the sound of a key unlocking. 

Jake was home. Fuck. He was home to take you to therapy and you hadn’t even thought to text him and tell him– shit. Instead of doing what he would have rather been doing, he’d made a useless trip home. 

It didn’t take him long at all to notice you sulking next to the window, face-palming next to the it, where you’d been people watching minutes ago, from your vantage point a few stories up. 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, concerned, as he came right up beside you. “What’s going on?”

Whenever you looked up from having your eyes pressed into your hand, you refocused your eyes on his worried ones. “I don’t have counseling today,” you sullenly stated. And rather than going into any more details, you just apologized. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. There was no point in you coming home.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he calmly reassured. Again, you found his line of sight. His eyes felt like the sweetest reassurance. “You look like you could use someone to talk to.”

“Don’t waste your time on me,” you waved him off, scrunching your brows in an effort to seem nonchalant. “Just go back to doing what you were doing.”

“Well, I don’t have any plans because I was planning on being with you all night,” he laughed just a bit, under his breath. He flicked at the tip of his nose with a pointer finger. 

“All night?” Your stomach swirled at the thought, but you also felt incredible guilt at stealing that time from him. “God, I’m so sorry, Jake.”

“Please don’t be.” It was his turn to wave you off while shaking his head. He swept a hand through his hair. “I’m glad I was here– glad that I am here.”

You didn’t really know what to say. There wasn’t anything you two could do that wouldn’t get completely awkward after a while. Right? It was only four o’clock and he planned on spending the rest of the evening with you? What were you going to–?

“What do you want to do?” He asked, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders. “Wanna stay here? Order in? Go out and do something?”

Going out sounded like a date. . . and that felt wrong to do. But you also absolutely despised the idea of staying inside of the apartment to wallow for a second longer. . . . 

And it didn’t take you very long to realize you were still wanting food, hunger starting to feel like empty weight in your rounded tummy. 

“Food?”

“Food,” he agreed with a grin, winking at you before turning around, effectively making your brain turn to complete mush as you grabbed your own jacket and followed him out the door. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

The night was one of the best you’d had in a while.

He’d taken you to get Panera. Weird, yes, but their tomato basil soup had been calling your name the second it’d come to mind, as you'd searched places to eat.

And after sitting across from each other and just talking about his budding career and your classes, at Panera Bread. . . he'd told you he wanted to take you somewhere special. And, just as the sun was setting, you’d pulled up to a Barnes & Noble on your side of Brooklyn.

“Tell me why you’re stressed,” he’d said, putting his car in park.

A used, four-door (hard top, thankfully) Jeep. An all-black, mid-thousands model. After riding around in it all evening, you’d noticed it rode really well. It was just slightly strange that he had a car. He hadn’t had one when you’d been. . .

You cleared your throat, back on the subject at hand. “I never said I was stressed,” you stated, feeling ready to combat the truth. For whatever stupid reason. 

“You didn’t have to say it,” he breathed deeply through his nose, turning down the classic rock station he’d been playing. “I know you.”

Deciding it wasn’t worth a debate (because it was the truth–you had been very stressed earlier), you sighed; running a hand through your loose, natural waves, you responded. “Well, I’m just. . . this therapy is for me, yes, sure. But it really is mostly for the baby,” you explained. He sighed and you placed the hand you’d combed through your hair on your rounded bump, covered by your favorite oversized sweatshirt. “And having one session lost that I can’t be working on getting healed for the baby stressed me the fuck out. Still kind of is,” you admitted, glancing out of the small, rectangular windshield. “I just want to be completely better by the time the baby is here.”

“What are you most worried about?” He softly pondered, prompting you to talk through it. 

“That I’ll be just like my mom and project my hurt onto my baby,” you said wetly, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “I have so much in me that I don’t understand and it scares me how much I don’t remember – can’t remember,” you blinked to allow the new tear to make its way down your cheek before quickly reaching to wipe it away. “And it scares the shit out of me. It makes me. . . this terrible person to other people. I need to understand all of me, so my baby gets the best parts of me.” Sniffling, you swiped at your cheeks to rid yourself of the few more tears that cascaded down your cheeks. “And I don’t even remember the last time I saw those best parts. . . . so if I can’t see,” you huffed, your eyes finally piercing his, which stayed on you, intently listening “H-how is my child going to see them?”

Jake hummed, rubbed his chin. He never took his deep-set, amber-brown irises from yours. “It’s funny,” he started, a little grin ghosting over his lips as he spoke, “I’m seeing those best parts of you right now. I see those 'best parts of you' quite often.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you unzipped and reached into your belt bag for your heart monitor phone, willing it to not go off. There were butterflies wreaking havoc in your tummy. Naturally, your hands found their way to your tummy. His eyes followed that particular movement.

“How do you–?” You sniffed, shaking your head, zipping your bag back after a moment. “How do you see those things? I haven’t seen them since before you came into my li–- for a long time. And never consistently. . .,” you rambled, eyebrows drawn together, thumbs rubbing circles over the tight bump. “I’ve always been a bit of a wild card with my emotions. And finding out more of what I'd done from Elsie. . . I'm just way too similar to my–.”

“Do you think she was as self aware as you are?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, honestly. You would go with no, but. . . “I don’t know her well enough to make that judgment.”

“Okay,” he nodded, sticking his bottom lip out. A grin found its way to his plush lips, looking so kissable in the cramped space of the car. You leaned further into the door so as to not tempt yourself of anything. He continued, “Well, I would say she probably wasn’t. Or else you wouldn’t be wracked with so much significant trauma. She wouldn’t have left you hanging with so much to deal with. . . she would have been there for you. Helped you because she would've wanted to help herself. Would've been self aware enough for that,” he emphasized. “Parents say stupid shit. They do stupid shit. They’re humans. What matters is how they ultimately react.”

“But I react so brashly, Jake,” you argued, needing to be heard. “What happens if I do that to our–?”

“You won’t. I know you won’t,” he consoled you, his eyes so earnest as he conveyed the words. “You struggle with saying stupid shit. I do, too. So does everyone. You’ll figure out how to handle situations better, but it won’t be as hard as you think,” he shook his head, taking the keys from the ignition. “Not for you. You are determined. And you’re not this monster you’ve made up in your head.”

“Well, –,” you started, interrupting him, only to be cut off. 

“And your best parts are too many to name right now,” he surmised, winking at you once more. You rubbed wider, nervous circles on your tummy. “But one of my favorites is your determination to help others. The way you care for others. And if a mother has those qualities,” he pointed a finger at your tummy, and trailed the finger up to point at your face. “She will be one helluva fantastic mother. I’m glad our baby will have you.”

“Thank you,” you replied after the words had actually cracked the surface of your mental warfare. No voice appeared to combat what he’d said, so you let them sink, all the way down into your brain to truly consider for later. You didn’t fight them. . . which you viewed as progress. “Thank you so much. I–I needed to hear those things. And you were the perfect person to hear them from,” you blushed, crinkling your nose with the words. A smile settled on your lips, eyes drying. “Because I know you’re going to be the best daddy to this baby. I’ve known it for a long time. . . So, it means a lot that you think the same. Seriously.”

“Of course I think so,” he smiled, glancing once more at your tummy. “And the way you're always holding our baby. . . you love her so, so much. You’re already so intentional about loving her.”

“Her?” You asked aloud, wondering why he’d chosen that gender. Your hands held tighter to your tummy at the assumption. “Why girl?”

He hummed, looking out the windshield, past your head, with a wide grin. “It just feels right,” he concluded, before motioning at the windshield, nodding towards it. “Look.”

You did as he said, turning to see a mother and son (presumably) traipsing up to the store, just past the nearest cart corral. The little boy was skipping, and the mother was watching her like the entire world started and stopped with the child. The sky was bluer because he was around. You felt that. 

“The way you’re watching them says enough, honey,” he concurred. There was that nickname again. . . Honey. Your heart skipped a beat at the term. “I see it all over you. You’re going to mess up. Parents do. My parents did a lot and I still think they’ve been the best parents.” When he gave a small, breathy laugh, you looked his way. He rubbed a finger over his bottom lip. “But what good parents do after they mess up is– they have humility and apologize. They show integrity to their child. You do that. Already. For me.”

Sitting across from him in the still air of the Jeep, you let your eyes bounce back and forth between his. His smell, warm, sweet, and woodsy, was enveloping every sense of your body, in the taut air of the vehicle. His breathing laced with yours, your heaving chest kept up with the rhythm of his. He was steadier than you. . . he seemed fine. 

You felt anything but. Your emotions were going haywire at everything he’d just said. The man he was to you. . . he was too good to be true. 

But, instead of letting yourself get sad that he wasn't yours, you looked at the store behind you and cleared your throat. It opened up your mind and the air in the car. He blinked a few times, tilting his head slightly, watching you. 

“Wondering why we’re here?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I thought– let’s get out,” he said, pausing the conversation to unload from the Jeep. You followed his lead, taking the tall step as gracefully as you could to get down and out. The slip almost happened–but didn’t. Thank god. 

Joining him at the back of the car, you waited for him to lead the way and continue. You wrapped your jacket tighter around your body, over the sweatshirt. There was a bite in the air that hadn’t been there before. Jake tightened his jacket, too, tucking his hands in the pockets of it. “I brought us here because I knew you were stressed. I knew it probably had to do with the baby,” he started, looking down at you. You felt his stare, looking up to meet it. “So I thought maybe coming here to get some books to study and prepare would help you feel more at peace about whatever was on your mind,” he drew in a breath before blowing it out into the cold, dry air. “And now that I know it had to do with preparedness, this was kind of–.”

“Perfect,” you finished, nudging him with your shoulder. 

He looked down for a second, his eyes read an unknown emotion before he kept on. “I know you probably have a lot of books already, but–.”

“There’s no such thing as too many,” you replied, leading the way through the automatic doors. 

“Precisely,” he agreed, coming to a stop as soon as the two of you had entered. Raising a brow, he looked down at you before throwing a thumb over to the in-store coffee house. “Want something?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” you responded with a light smile, walking toward the smell of comforting coffee and cakes. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

He’d footed the bill the whole night. . . including the surplus of books from Barnes & Noble. It had been a hefty bill, but he’d refused to let you pay. He had convinced you it was part of co-parenting – sharing purchases. And this was one of his first purchases to make for the baby.

“This was a good idea,” you mentioned at the end of the evening, juggling your one bag of books that you’d insisted Jake let you carry (the lightest one, after compromise) as you led the way up the stairs of your complex. “Focusing on other ways we can prepare for the baby, rather than worrying about what we can’t control.”

“I have a decent idea every now and then,” he chuckled, out of breath as he handled the bulk. 

Once you made it to the door, you unlocked it for the two of you.

And, for a moment, it felt so domestic.

It felt like a dream you shouldn’t dream. Arriving home after a big shopping run, walking through the door together as you laughed at the heaviness of bags and discussed a few of the books you’d chosen.

And as you made your way through the door finally, it broke your heart to see the night go. He wasn’t necessarily acting ready to end it, but the impending ending made your stomach turn. You wanted this for longer. 

He was going on and on about all of the things he’d researched as of late concerning babies and pregnancy and everything in between. You decided on grabbing a Canada Dry from the fridge, letting him sort the books on the counter into categories as he kept conversation easily.

Every now and then, you offered a small response to show you were listening, but otherwise, you let him talk. You loved listening to him talk about all of this. 

It made your heart feel ten times bigger. Though, as you took a sip of your ginger ale, watching him sort the books, your heart began to sink instead. 

You couldn’t help how much you adored his desire to learn about all things ‘baby’. He was already so good at his job as dad.

The way you’d felt all night–so peaceful with him. . . you knew it was good for you. He was literally your mental safe place (you hadn’t told him that though. Absolutely not). But. . . you knew it couldn’t go past the feeling of good friendship. Co-parenthood.

The unfortunate part, though, was that you really felt unable to stop the way you were feeling for him. It felt new and familiar all at once.

Though, you knew you couldn’t let yourself feel that way. You shouldn’t.

But with the way his eyes lit up when you looked up at him again, after staring at your feet in your whirlwind of contemplation, you knew you were doomed. 

There was no stopping the way that you felt about him. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

One morning at the very end of November, you woke up with a cold. A terrible one. The same cold that every other person in your classes was seeming to come down with. Theo had been gone with it all week, and you saw him more frequently than not to study. You’d decided on one or two days a week after class. There were also the few people who sat around you in class, who’d come down with it.

So, it was due time for you. 

Normally, you would have tried to make it through the day. But, you’d done enough reading to learn that coming down with a serious infection like the flu or Covid could lead to a baby’s fetal development getting stunted. So, you played it safe and decided to stay home until you felt better.  

You had called in to work that morning. And just after that, you’d emailed the professor you had that day to let  him know. Everyone you had spoken to was understanding, luckily, which helped you to sleep very peacefully. You only hoped that the extra sleep wasn’t just helpful to you, but also–mostly–to the baby.

Sleeping off the sick seemed the best option. You hadn’t really had the mental energy that morning to look into safe medicine to take for colds during pregnancy. So, sleeping it was.

Your colds were always intense–all of your sicknesses were. When you got sick, it never failed to knock you on your ass. So instead of stressing over it all that morning, you’d chosen sleep as the easier route.

You had been hoping that you’d wake up from a long nap feeling refreshed and better. . .but. . . you were not so lucky.

When your eyes fluttered open for the second time that day to find what was left of the evening sun peeking through your curtains, you officially knew it was time to figure something out. Your eyes were burning–hurt to open. There was an ache settled firmly in every bone in your body–weren’t sure if you were cold or hot. . . 

You were definitely sick. More than a cold. No two ways about it.

When you turned to your bedside table for a drink from your Stanley, you found your bedside table had a couple new additions since you’d fallen asleep. There was a brand new Stanley sitting next to your old one. One you’d eyed for a few minutes online a week or so ago, and then decided against due to the monstrously obnoxious size. . . 

You’d talked to Jake about it after he’d noticed your pensive face looking at your phone screen for longer than necessary. . . And now, there it sat on your white, wooden night stand. A 64 ounce, rose quartz Stanley, in all of its glory. 

And leaning against it and next to it were a concoction of helpful remedies with a couple of sticky notes to explain each of their benefits. The handwriting gave him away. Jake. In his scrawl, he detailed what to take and when, which ones you could take together. He’d even written out the link to a website talking about pregnancy-safe cold meds. There was also a fruit punch Gatorade. When you reached out, it was still cold. He’d been in recently.

Moving on from the drink and meds, you glanced at the Stanley and saw it had a sticky sitting underneath it, waiting to be read. 

Plenty of water will help you and the baby stay healthy. It was worth it 

It had perfect timing and came in the mail today of all days

:) –Jake

The note effectively had your head spinning from something other than sickness. . .his kind gesture, making your stomach do soft flips. Your hand floated to touch your tummy at the idea of him doing so sweet for you (and for the baby–his baby).

After reading his advice on what to take, you went ahead and took some Tylenol for your headache and body aches, then used a nasal spray to help loosen up whatever drainage you could. The Vicks rub he’d left had been a welcome solvent on your chest, temples, and under your nose. 

But, it didn’t take long for your stomach to start rumbling, so you took that as your sign to find something that would ease the scratch in your throat and warm you up. 

You went out to the kitchen for food, holding your brand new Stanley, taking several healthy sips of the iced water from it. When you bent down to pour food in Stevie’s dish, you realized there was already kibble in there. . . that Jake undoubtedly left for her.

You were sure your heart monitor was picking up all kinds of strange palpitations at his gestures. 

Around the time you’d noticed Stevie’s food, you went to text him to tell him thank you. Only to find he’d sent a text about twenty minutes ago saying he’d left for the night. And while it made your heart sink, you knew you had no right to feel sad about it. . . especially when he’d done so much to help you before you’d even woken from your nap. 

To add emphasis to that thought, you noticed at just the right time that he’d also left a couple Panera soups waiting on the counter for you. God. . . he was wonderful. You read the note he’d left with the two little sealed containers.

Soup is the best when you’re sick :) 

–Jake 

Your body was already hurting a little less after you’d heated and almost instantly downed one of the delicious soups. A warm shower sounded more than tempting, so you didn’t waste time throwing away your trash and making your way to grab the shower steamer pods he’d left for you on your bedside table (they were a pregnancy-safe brand, he’d assured on a sticky, which made you softly smile). 

After placing them in the heating shower to begin dissolving the comforting notes of lavender and rose, you padded back to the kitchen for your new Stanley when you noticed something on the counter.

In an arranged group on the counter sat a few books you'd bought the other night. You recognized them. They sat with a notebook, stickies, and pens. Two of the books were closed, stacked, and tabbed with stickies–all bright pinks, greens, and blues.

Though, there was one more, face up and open, as if he’d had to leave unplanned and hadn’t had time to shut it. There was a pad of stickies sitting atop the page it was opened to. A pen was on top of the pad, which, when you walked closer, realized there was plenty of Jake’s scrawl already written on it. The page had a heading that read:

Props and pillows and sleep, oh my! 

And he’d written the following on his sticky, which lay upon the page: 

–Look into pregnancy pillows for y/n

–Be patient!! 

–Do what you can to help her find the right set up for sleep or rest 

–Adhere to her sleep schedules (no loud sounds or bright lights when she’s asleep, etc) 

–She needs sufficient rest (has healthy outcomes for her and the baby)

You went to look at the cover of the book, but before you could look at it, you stopped yourself. For some reason, it felt like an invasion of his privacy. Even though he’d left it open on the counter, these were his notes, not yours.

But just before you could walk any further to the bathroom and ignore his notes, the book stacked on top of the other had a note stuck to the top of it. And, written in bold, black sharpie, were the words Remember: Do WHATEVER you can to help y/n – it’s for the BABY!

The words it’s for the baby being written with finality at the end of the statement reminded you that chances were, all of this was not really for you. . . definitely not. You didn’t deserve that from him. No, whatever was for you was done for the ultimate benefit of the baby.

All of everything he did was for the baby. All of the words of reassurance. The trip to the bookstore. Panera. The meds tonight. Taking you to counseling. . . ev-ery-thing.

And that was fine. . .

So why was a tear drawn to your eye as you sped away from the book that sat on top of the counter? And why had you felt the need to go back to your room on the way to the shower, to get the Stanley cup you’d bought yourself? Why did the thought of using the one Jake bought for you make your stomach feel all tangled and weird?

Because he doesn’t care about you, a voice nagged, reminding you. It was a familiar voice, filtering in from the dark tresses of your mind. He doesn’t care about you. This is for the baby. So if you feel like it’s for you, know it’s not. Let him help the baby. Don’t be selfish. The baby matters most. 

You couldn’t help but agree with the voice. The baby did matter most. Not you.

So, you resolutely chose to wait out the calming scent of the steamer, until it all pooled down the drain. Stepping in when the scent was gone seemed the only option, as the way the shower calmed you was only for your benefit and not necessarily the baby’s. 

Yes, it sounded fucked up and foolish in your head. But you were trying to navigate these thoughts the best you fucking could and you were grasping for something that made sense. But all you were doing was making no sense. 

God, what the fuck, y/n?

And, stupidly, for whatever fucking selfish reason (because you knew for sure you were selfish–evidence proved that), you found yourself hiccuping on tears that hurt your already-aching body, under the lukewarm spray of the shower.

He didn't truly care about you. Not really. It was all for the baby.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Once your mind was lucid after your little cold-sickness stint, you noticed stretch marks had started showing up. One by one, they’d started becoming stark and apparent and made you feel gross. 

The creams and oils you’d ordered seemed to help the slightest bit with the new darkness of the few tiger stripe-like lines. They truly looked heinous against your otherwise unmarred skin. You’d felt insecurities really begin to kick in after you’d cried in the shower on the first day out of three of your sickness. 

During the latter three days of your cold (or whatever the hell it was), you’d sulked and avoided Jake’s help in whatever way you could. You wanted his help with the baby. Only with the baby. But the baby wasn’t there yet. 

So, you didn’t need his help. He didn’t need to care about you. Only the baby. It was common sense. And it would be fine. 

But it still made you feel oddly unwanted. The feeling didn’t matter. 

But, for you, with your utterly complicated past, feeling unwanted came hurtling towards you, without any sign of stopping.

Since you were a child, feeling unwanted in your mother’s grimy home, a whole range of other negative emotions accompanied that familiar feeling. Most call it depression. Your oldest friend.

And, it had officially lit up for this new stage of your life. Why enjoy things for too long? It wasn’t worth it. Right?

So, the way your skin was beginning to scar due to growth you absolutely couldn’t control. . . it just set misery aflame in your amped-up insecurities and dispirit. 

On the first night of December, the depressive thoughts persisted. You stood with your big sleep t-shirt tucked up under your heavy-ass boobs as you lathered your tummy up with the last oil in your new, nightly anti-stretch mark routine. As you did so, tears pooled in your eyes at the sight of yourself. 

And, seemingly out of nowhere, your thoughts picked up on a different train. . . something you hadn’t really taken time to be super upset about yet. The thought slipped in amongst the rest of your woes. 

It was the thought of being a single mother.

And while it didn’t matter and wasn’t completely true, because Jake would be there, you’d still be doing it on your own in a sense. You would be on your own. The two of you definitely weren’t together. He wouldn’t be there with you. He would just be there, doing his own thing for the baby, with Maya by his side. (Nausea crept up at her name alone. Gag.)

You were going to be a single mother. Just like your own moth–. No. You locked eyes with yourself in the mirror, momentarily stopping the massaging of your belly. 

I will not let my mind go there, you asserted silently, staring daggers through your reflection. I am not her. I am not. I can’t be. I won’t be. What would Gia say? What would Jake say?

Amidst your crying and sorrowful thoughts, the knock on the door of the bathroom kind of spooked you. And, in the depths of your despair, you couldn’t really care fucking less who saw you right now. That was just how pitiful you felt. 

“Come in,” you said, sniffing and trying to cover the sound of tears in your voice by swallowing them. 

When the door began opening, you had to scoot over a little to let Jake in. You knew it was him. He’d been home all night with you, while Maya was busy doing whatever the hell she needed to do for her job. 

He’d spent a couple hours catching up on New Girl with you and it had been nice. Except, anytime you thought about how it wasn’t really for your benefit and rather him just being your friend for the baby. . . It just wasn't the same.

“You okay?” He carefully pondered, coming to stand slightly behind you in the mirror.

But, as soon as he appeared next to you and saw your current state of dress, his eyes went immediately to your bare tummy. He stayed trained on the bump that continued to grow, day by day. Still not huge, but definitely not small.

Insecurities were instantly blossoming at his stare. He was not looking away for anything, lost in a trance. He was probably in shock at just how big your belly had gotten, compared to the last time he’d seen you like this. Chances were, he was repulsed by what he saw. 

You effectively decided the stretch marks had been tended to enough for the night. You went to pull your Pratt shirt over the exposed skin. But to your surprise, his hand was shooting out, around your body, just as quick, to stop you before you could pull it down too far. 

He definitely succeeded in stopping you, holding your wrist. You were in shock – skin flaming at his touch . . .felt it everywhere. 

“I want to see,” he requested, sort of breathless. What? He wanted to–? “You look–this is–.”

“Ugly? Fat? Disgust–?”

“Beautiful,” he firmly stated, his eyes finally locking with yours in the mirror at the word. “This is beautiful. You are beautiful.”

His hand still held your hand over shirt, not daring to touch your belly. You couldn’t move to make the position change. The fact that he’d just called you beautiful was like a lightning bolt to your entire nervous system.

“I’m not–,” you shook your head, at a loss for words. You did not fully agree with him. Was it beautiful that you were holding the baby? Was the baby beautiful inside? Yes. But were you loving your body these days? Absolutely not. “The stretch marks. . . I’m so fucking big. . .”

“You aren’t,” he suddenly dropped his hand, and you were missing his touch as soon as it was gone. He went to lean against the bathroom counter, facing you. His eyes bounced between your belly and your eyes, settling on your irises as he continued. “You are not any of the things you called yourself. I don’t think any of those things when I see you. . . I don’t even understand how you could–,” he shook his head, blinking once before finding your eyes. “I just see a woman who is special to me. A beautiful woman who is carrying my baby.”

Carrying my baby. 

Those words. . . they did something to you. Your palms were sweaty as you held tighter to your shirt, rolled under your boobs.

“The baby is beautiful,” you concurred. And surprisingly, you didn’t trip over your words. “But I am–.”

“You are beautiful. I am talking about you right now,” he stated, with no room for disagreement in his tone. “Don’t discount that. Please.”

“Are you just saying these things because I’m carrying your baby?”

Where did that come from? Shit. Nothing like baring your most vulnerable feelings to the very person you feel most vulnerable in front of. . . 

“No,” he said without pause. He sounded sure. “You have always been beautiful. It’s just. . . enhanced now. I can’t. . .it’s hard to explain.”

You wanted to ask him to try to explain it but you didn’t.

All of a sudden, you felt confident to ask more. 

“You don’t just think so because of the baby? Do you just care about me because of the baby?”

Jesus. There it was. 

“We’ve gone over this,” he sighed, rubbing circles against his temple. He didn’t keep on with the action, instead stuffing his hands in his pockets as he found your eyes with his. 

“I know, but I just. . . I feel like I don’t matter. I mean, I really don’t right now do I?" You sarcastically laughed, eyes watering. "All I’m good for is being the big, fat incubator who hates her body and has ugly fucking stretch marks because my belly won’t slow the fuck–.”

“It’s good that it won’t slow down,” he reassured, amber-brown irises smiling with his lopsided grin. “It means the baby’s healthy and growing.”

“But you do think I’m an incubator,” you stubbornly persisted. “Didn’t say anything to argue that.” Your tone unnecessarily snipped with your next words, “Jake, you just want to help the baby. I know this. So just wait until the baby’s here. Don’t worry about me or making me feel better if you just want to help the–.”

“Where are you getting this from?”

You stared at each other for a few moments. . . . He gave you a look that told you he could see you.

“My mind is a really twisty place,” you huffed a humorless laugh, rubbing your own temples now. “It never shuts the fuck up,” you paused–didn’t want to say anything about the sticky note on the book that had spurred the thoughts. The same thoughts you’d voiced the night you’d told him. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve already been insecure about all of this shit. It’s just–.”

“I don’t view you as an incubator,” he insisted, crossing his arms, strong fingers wrapping around stronger biceps. “I view you as a brave fucking woman who is being selfless as hell. You’re growing a fucking human, y/n,” he said, grin widening. You felt your lips lift, too. He continued, “And I can’t help but be amazed by that alone every. single. day. And while that is beautiful, yes - I won’t say it isn’t because it is,” he unwaveringly asserted. 

“But. . . it’s more,” he kept on. “You’ve been this woman-the one in front of me - for a long ass time–before I ever knew you. Though, since I’ve known you, I’ve had the privilege of seeing this woman. I knew your heart right off the bat–since the day Josh told me about this girl who was letting a man she didn’t know move into her fucking home. Just because she cared about the situation. Didn't even know me," He raised a brow, lips quirking as yours did the same. “You’re selfless and–,” he paused. 

His eyes shut briefly before opening to yours. Except this time. . . they were wet with emotion. Yours were, too. Your heart was pounding and you felt warm with a blush, from your chest to your face.

“And kind. So thoughtful when you don’t need to be. You care a whole fuckin’ lot for others and sometimes it gets you in trouble because you get in your head and it hurts you,” he said, brows dipped with a shake of his head. “But the fact that your heart is the way it is in spite of everything you’ve been through–I can’t even imagine, y/n. All of that and so much fucking more makes you beautiful,” he tucked his hair behind his ears before they went back into his pockets. “So, no, it’s not just because of the baby. It’s just one more thing that makes you beautiful.”

You were utterly speechless, and you couldn’t stop the wetness in your own eyes, a tear trickling down your own cheek. . . How could he even begin to say all of those things about you when you’d been so terrible to him? Always made assumptions?

You weren’t sure how much time passed when you finally swallowed down your own tears and found the most simple words you could mutter. “Thanks, Jake,” you whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” he winked. It clicked with you that you could faintly hear your heart monitor phone going off in your room. It was alerting you of unusual heart activity. No fucking wonder - with the poetry the man had just spoken. He heard it, too, apparently, brows wrinkling. “What is that sound that’s been going off for the last few–?”

“My heart monitor phone. My heart is beating really fucking hard in my chest right now and the monitor picked up on the palpitations,” you blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you finally pulled your shirt down. “I’m not used to hearing people say things like that about me. It just catches me off guard when you–,” you coughed, blinking as you located some sense. “When anyone says sweet things like that to me.”

Then, you were back in time. Yet again. On the living room floor. That day it'd rained. . . a quiet, gray morning. He'd said things so like what he'd said just now. The same day those Aretha Franklin songs had sealed a place in your heart. Well– both of your hearts, apparently. . . according to Jake at the bar.

A comfortable silence had crept over the two of you that morning, he’d so obviously been watching you– admiring you–not to be mistaken for anything else as you'd laid atop him.

His next words confirmed it. 

“Even in the grayness of this morning, you shine so bright,” he said, almost absentmindedly. “You fucking glow, y/n. You’re just brilliant.”

All you’d been able to utter was a measly, “Thank you.” The sound of tears in your throat, behind your response, had surprised you.

“Has no one ever told you?” Jake had pondered, his warm chest breathing steadily and comfortably beneath you.

You’d explained how Josh and Elsie were kind to you, but. . . “hearing you say something like that. . .,” you’d emphasized to him. “Those words. . . It just feels good. I don’t know,” you’d shaken your head, a tear falling to meet his tanned chest. “And no one has ever said those exact words to me, no.”

“You are all of that and more, my lo—,” he’d cleared his throat, stopping himself from saying a word your heart was now longing so badly to hear. “You are so many things wrapped in one, y/n. So many fantastic things.”

“Stop,” you’d sniffed, more tears falling onto his chest. “You don’t have to say things like that. I promise I’ll still want to have sex with you if you don’t,” you’d laughed, wiping your leftover tears. The words had sounded funny (true, but still funny) as they’d left your mouth. 

“I want to tell you those things,” he’d said, firm in his response. “You deserve to hear those good things. Sex or not.”

And tonight had proven that he truly meant that statement. No sex, and still. . . .

But . . . goddamn. The sex. 

With that thought in mind, you couldn’t help but watch the sway of his ass in his tight black jeans as you followed out of the bathroom behind him. You bit your lip after bidding him goodnight– only able to think of how fucking badly you missed the sex. 

“I fucking love you,” he'd once told you - on the very night that had gotten you in this predicament. “And god, do I love fucking you. . .”

Not that word. . . Where had it come from just now?!

Love. Love. Love. Love. You hardly ever thought of him saying it to you–tried not to because it hurt and you knew it wasn’t true anymore.

But when he’d said those sweet things about you being beautiful just now. . . apparently, your mind couldn't help but chant the word . . .and the sound of him saying it to you. Why?! He was just being kind.

It was so hard wanting him and not being able to have him. . . Not like you ever actually had him - but before you fucked everything up with your stupid, hurtful words.

And, god, did you still want him. 

You couldn’t have him like that – all of the reasons were plain as day. But. . . at least you still had the memories. The wonderful memories. But being pregnant made the memories so much worse. . . because one little thought of how he felt inside of you had you actually throbbing for him.

As soon as you got to your bed, you were reaching into your bedside table for your favorite little vibrating instrument. The thought of that morning. . . the idea of having your breasts pushed against his bare chest again as he told you things just like he did tonight. . . You knew it wouldn’t take long for you to be unraveling. 

Before long, you were feeling all of the tremors you craved from Jake’s mouth, from the little toy held just right against your quivering bundle of nerves. And in less than five minutes, you were  shuddering, body tensing and releasing as you breathily moaned his name into your pillow.

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 4, 2022

Your week ended with a particularly exhausting day at the Black and Gold. 

Inventory had come out of nowhere. And, with Josh busy with his new career, it was mostly on you to prepare for it.

The two other girls who worked with you couldn’t give two shits and it showed when you’d shown up for a shift after theirs. Nothing was ever prepared in the evenings or the following mornings if they were in charge—and inventory week was no exception. 

In fact, it was glaringly more obvious when it was such an important week as inventory week. 

And having to do all of that after your few solid days of feeling like complete and utter crap and while being pregnant? It had been one of the longest days you’d had in your whole life (dramatic? Maybe. But whatever.). 

And to top it all off, you’d come home to the apartment being very warm to accommodate the cooler weather outside. 

For normal people, it probably felt nice to come into the warmth. And, most likely, it would’ve felt great to you before your pregnancy.

It was just too damn hot in the apartment tonight. You’d wanted to come home and take a warm shower to wash off the day and relax your sore muscles, but the temperature of the place had you throwing that idea away real quick.

So instead, you hurriedly went about feeding Stevie before rushing to your bedroom to dig out the box fan stuffed at the top of your closet. You’d bought it the summer the A/C had let out on you and your sister, and had kept it handy ever since for fear of it happening again. 

And at this exact moment, it felt just as hot to you as it did that summer the A/C quit working.

The fan was plugged in and blowing at full blast, towards the bed, in no time. It was sitting on top of your vanity seat, pointing right at your side of the bed. The speed at which you’d gotten it situated was astounding. And your sheets were cool and crisp and tempting you to climb into them when you pulled your covers down. 

But you couldn’t climb in yet with the way your bladder was squeezing and hurting with how badly you needed to pee. You’d put it off at the B&G, ready to get home. And then you’d come home to an uncomfortably steamy apartment.

Before heading to the bathroom, you stripped completely of your tight bra (thank you, God), your stuffy sweater and your leggings. Then, changed into a thin pair of pajama shorts and the first camisole you could find in your chest of drawers. And thankfully the thin strapped shirt had no built-in bra to constrict you. 

You’d welcomed Stevie into your room, her soft purrs and shaggy fur rubbing against your ankles as you promised her of your soon arrival back. 

Finally, after peeing and washing your face, you were ready to lay right in front of that fan. 

You stopped by the kitchen to quickly grab a Stanley from the counter– to find nothing. No Stanley. Neither of them.

Shit.

Slapping your forehead, you remembered almost instantly where they still sat on the counter at the Black and Gold. Both of them. Your rush to leave and rest from your long day had prompted you to forget a couple of your most prized possessions. 

Without your go-to water tumbler, you felt naked. And even more thirsty. 

Your day had been long and hard and now you were paying for it. Ugh.

When you scanned the kitchen for a quick alternative, your eyes immediately landed on the case of waters that Jake had recently bought for rehearsals only. You didn’t give two shits. You were bound to steal one to satiate your thirst. 

The one problem was. . .

It was sitting atop the fridge. Out of your reach. And with the few inches Jake had on you, he’d stacked it up there so it would be out of the way. You remembered him saying those exact words as you eyed the package now. Hated those words. 

Because not only was it out of the way, it was out of your reach. Out of your reach when you were dying of thirst and needed a drink of water. Stat.

Without thinking of risking anything, you went to grab a table chair quickly and quietly.

You had to be quiet because Jake was home and you did not want to wake him. Not when you were in cavewoman mode. . . and especially not with the way your tits and ass were flashing in your current choice of clothing. Or with the ugly heart monitor that was attached to your chest.

So, as carefully as possible, you sat the chair next to the side of the fridge with the waters and climbed on top of the seat to grab the case of Pure Life. Briefly, you worried about handling a heavy object while pregnant, but put it to the side when you realized pregnant women all over America handled water cases like this. You were fine. 

In the lapse of time it took you to contemplate holding the waters, and getting it off the counter, you misplaced the package on the counter top. And right as you silently stepped off the chair, the waters came crashing down onto the floor of the kitchen. The harsh sound of plastic smashing against the ground, filled with several heavy bottles of water, seemed to linger in the air around you as you stood there. One foot still on the chair, one off ready to go. 

Not able to change the fact that it crashed onto the ground, you just stood there and stared at the offensive case of water for a moment and cursed it for its loudness. But before you could silently wish harm for too long, you were bending to pick it up. 

Once it had been safely placed back on the counter with careful hands, you glanced towards Jake’s room. No movement or sound from it. He probably hadn’t heard — deep in sleep. 

And then. . . Your pregnant brain was sparking to life. 

There was a fucking Brita in the fridge. Filled to the brim with ice cold water, versus the room temperature water in the case. You’d just filled it this morning before class. And ice cold water sounded so much more appealing than lukewarm. . . 

If only you’d remembered before that you had the filtered water waiting in the pitcher. . . There wouldn’t have been a giant crash to possibly wake your roommate. 

Putting all of the irritation out of your mind, you went to grab a glass quickly from the cabinet, then hastily pried the pitcher from the refrigerator. With nervous hands, you poured until the glass was literally overflowing. 

“Shit!” You whispered at the mess, anxious to be rid of this situation. Tired and thirsty and still feeling warm even in your cami and shorts, your ears rushed with white noise.

This was not ending up like you’d planned.

The pitcher had safely found its spot back in the fridge and you were finally taking a drink from your (overfilled) glass, when you decided to multitask and grab a few paper towels to clean up the counter.

But when they wouldn’t rip off the roll, you yanked too hard. And that resulted in the water you were still drinking, to spill. It dripped down your chin, down your top mostly, and into the top of your shorts. Sensory overload was doing what it did best, overwhelming you—making you lose grip and had the glass falling from your hand and to the ground. 

That shatter was much worse than the water case falling, the shards thankfully large, but the few sparkling pieces of glass had you shushing Stevie away when she approached with curiosity. 

And if Stevie was approaching, then surely someone else had heard—

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Jake hushed, his voice close behind you, sounding like it was coming from the entryway of the kitchen. 

You stilled. Of course he'd woken up. You’d made a fuck ton of noise. Real nice.

You turned on your heel, just the slightest bit, to peek over your shoulder at him. And with the luck you’d already had with the night, the action made you effectively slip from the bit of water that had made its way under your foot. 

Falling, more like—and not using the counter to catch yourself like a sane person—towards the hard ground and glass, bump—baby— first—fuckfuckfu—.

Jake’s arms immediately wrapped around you, effectively stopping your fall. He hugged you tightly to him. One arm wrapped fully around your stomach, hand secured to your side, firmly in place. And the other hand— gripping your breast. . . fully. 

He had you wrapped up in him, ass pulled into his crotch to keep you steady.

And ho-ly fuck.

Your nipple hardened instantly at the feeling of him holding your chest. You’d been waiting to feel his hand hold your sore breasts. . . And your assumption had been correct. His touch eased the pain in them, felt deliciously good—his touch didn’t hurt them like everyone else seemed to do on contact. 

But then he began moving his hands away. 

No.

“I’m sorry— I-I didn’t mean to—.”

“Stay.”

The word just slipped out as you grabbed hold of his hand, keeping it secured where he’d initially placed it, carefully situating his fingers over your nipple for the sensation you longed for. 

And when you did, he squeezed the flesh through your thin shirt. His other hand gripped your hip, exposed just a bit by your shirt – the way his fingers held you there made you fearful that he’d leave marks.

You fucking hoped so. 

And fuck, if he didn’t like it, too. You could feel it against your ass.

The way he continued to massage his other hand on your chest, wrapping his fingers securely around your breast, feeling it, told you so, too. The impulsive urge to pull down the top of your shirt and give him full access was becoming more and more appealing by the second. 

But you didn’t do it. Didn’t want to do too much and scare him away. 

You just let his arm come to rest where he apparently wanted it to, fully over the other breast. He comfortably situated his arm, rubbed a purposeful thumb over your sensitive nipple. 

“Jake,” you whispered. Couldn’t help it. He elicited this feeling. “Please.”

With your words, he pressed his front harder against your ass. God, you could feel the shape of him.

Letting the moment take over, you decided to let your body lean into his, rested against him and pushed your ass purposefully into his hardening dick. The breath he sucked in was not lost on you, and you craved hearing it again, so you repeated the action against him. 

His hand tightened around your breast, and he began massaging it as he used his grip to pull you even closer to him. His thumb moved to rub tight circles around your taut nipple. It felt so good. . . your head fell back against his shoulder, sucking in your own breath between your teeth. The way he gently kneaded the flesh in his strong grip had electricity shooting through your chest, all the way down to your toes. 

Your heart was going crazy, beating frantically, barely letting up with its assault against your chest. The feeling of him against you was enough to make you lose your breath with the way your heart was clenching in your chest, all the way up to your throat.

And then you heard a familiar, faint beeping from your bedroom.

The blessed heart monitor phone. Tracking when your heart rate would increase. The stupid phone didn’t need to tell you that it was beating hard right now. And so what if you fainted? You would do it in Jake’s arms. No better place to be. 

All you knew was that you were elated that it was still in your room – and quiet enough to the average ear that it hopefully didn’t break the air of want between you and this man you wanted so. badly. 

Jake hadn’t heard it - or didn't care to stop if he had, that much seemed to be clear.

He angled his hips, pressing so cozily into your backside. You could feel all of him – moving in slow circles, while still pressed tightly to your ass. That continued on for a while until he nudged himself, right in the middle of your ass. You felt him pulsing. Tucked into you, making your core throb even more for him.

Your nerves were on fire, and when he began rolling his hips, thrusting into your ass. . . you released the tiniest moan. It was such a small sound that you briefly thought you’d imagined it. But then the hand that had been holding your hip came to wrap around your throat briefly, and then up to your mouth. 

His breath came in hot waves against your ear, his voice gravelly with need. “It’s late. We shouldn’t make noise like that. It’s too late.”

After making his point known, his hand moved to sweep some hair over one shoulder, leaving your neck exposed for him to breathe hotly against. . . and then lick. Your breath hitched at the sensation of his wet tongue, making loose circles against your hot, sweating flesh.

“You still taste so good,” he moaned with the words, ever so quietly. “You always will–but it’s like you taste sweeter than before. I can’t even–.

But he never finished what he was saying, choosing instead to press sloppy kisses against your skin. His lips and his tongue, moving together to suck gently. 

Fuck! What had gotten into–?

Your body relaxed into him all on its own, moving near enough to him that you felt like one. 

Your ass ground against him, pressing so close. He kept with his motions as he angled his lips to hover above your bare shoulder, breath hot on your skin.

Though, his kisses stopped. But, he still released puffs of overexerted breaths, over your skin, wet from his mouth. It made your toes curl and your eyes fall closed. He didn’t give your neck any more attention as he used his position to lean up and look over the front of your body, effectively pulling you even closer to him. 

“God,” he breathed, his breath hitting from exposed shoulder, onto your collar bones. Your motions continued, but just a little slower to keep him where he was, not wanting to somehow push him away. You felt him, throbbing steadily against your ass. “You’re soaked.”

You have no idea, you silently, hotly responded, moving to rub your thighs together.

But you remembered your predicament. What he was talking about. Your clothes were completely soaked through. There had been so much water. He was talking about your clothes.

“I spilled my water,” you breathed back, so quiet. 

“I can see that. Y/n– fuck,” he rutted against your ass, his hand moving to the bottom of your full breast to hold it in a steady grip. You realized he was moving his hand to see the entire breast, your straining nipples through the soaked white fabric. “Your tits. . . they’re so fucking– Goddammit.”

“Sore,” you moaned back, your body arching in need against the hardness in his loose pajama pants. “Heavy.”

“God, I’m sor–,” he went to move his hand again. And you once again brought your hand up to stop him. 

“No, Jake,” you held his hand in a tight grip, rubbing your thumb over the back of it. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” He questioned, raspy and needy. 

Then, he was suddenly letting go of your chest to move your strap to do what you so desperately wanted.

Once it was draped over your shoulder, he moved a hand slowly over your sternum, into the front of your shirt. When he grazed his fingers over your oversensitive nipple, you whined, knees buckling. And, finally, he pulled your breast out to touch the air. 

And just before he could hold it with the hand that was readily going to grasp it. . . his bedroom door was creaking open. 

“Jakey?” Maya’s voice rang through the apartment. “You okay?”

Of course she was here. Why wouldn’t she be? 

You hadn’t heard the tell-tale sign of anyone taking steps towards the kitchen from the slightly creaky hallway, but you still decided you needed to get the fuck away from Jake. He was not yours.

You pulled away harshly and quickly, turning around all as you went to pull up your tank.

When you fully turned around, he was standing stock-still, watching your every move with your top, not letting his eyes fall away from your breasts. Your hard nipples. You felt the blush spread across your entire chest.

Then he bit his lip, your entire body heating at the motion, before he was responding.

You moved forward to hold his cheek, trying to wake him from the daze he was in. Your words barely hit the air, you were so quiet. “Jake, go back to your room. I’ll clean this up so she doesn’t–.”

“I’m good, babe,” he called back to her in a low tone, still honing in on your eyes. Your brows dipped, confused. He looked to the fridge, his hand coming to hold your bicep, keeping you there. Why was he not getting his ass back to his room? “Y/n’s asleep and I really don’t want to wake her,” he lied, eyes still glued to something to your left.

She could walk in and see he was lying! Why was he being so fucking careless? 

“Just go back to bed,” he continued, leaving no room for argument or worry. “I dropped something when I was getting up to get some water.”

“Okay,” she responded, not using the same near-whispering tone as him. “Just don’t be long, baby.”

“I won’t,” he simply said, amber-brown irises, tracing back to yours in the dim lighting of the kitchen, highlighted by the moon, shining in through the kitchen window. Full moon. Anything can happen. 

And what was happening was wrong. 

When you heard his bedroom door click closed and a little squeak from the bed to indicate someone had placed weight on it, you pulled away from him, his arm slowly dropping back to his side. The eyes that stared back at yours had a question behind them, but you didn’t give him time to ask it.

“Jake,” your tone clipped and quiet. You didn’t want to break the ridiculous cover he’d mindlessly created. “Why the fuck did you lie like that?”

“I didn’t want her to come in here,” he cut back, his inflection reflecting the same hot energy as yours. “If she would’ve known we were both in here, she would have come looking. I don’t need that,” he insisted. “And neither do you. Especially with your tits on full fucking display like that.”

You glanced down, after he’d motioned momentarily at your chest. And, his words rang true when you realized your entire fucking nipple and areola was visible through the material. Even in the darkness of night, you could tell as much. Your arms flew up to snugly cover them, flinching at the way it felt like sharp needles were pressing into your chest momentarily.  

When you peered down to where you saw his hand moving, you realized he was palming himself through his pants. You felt yourself release, the slightest bit in your panties.

Your hands tightened closer to your chest, doing the opposite of what you wanted in that moment–you wanted to bring your shirt down over yourself and let him finish on your waiting ches–.

Suddenly the pressure against you was too much and your arms were falling from their place across your breasts. Thus, standing there, on full display. Right fucking there for stupid ass Maya to walk in at any moment. 

Honestly, you were the stupid ass. And it seemed like Jake was, too. 

Maya was the innocent one in all of this.

“Go wait in your room for me,” he whispered heatedly, his words piercing your heart at the anxious energy floating through your veins. “I’ll clean this up. And then I’ll be—.”

“But–,” you brought your arms up to your chest again, covering yourself. It was a brainless move to flash your chest like that. You didn’t want to tempt him in any way. “This is my mess just–.”

“Y/n,” he all but spit in your direction with the harshness in his whisper. “I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself on the water or glass. Please.”

Good point. 

So, you decided you’d do as you were told, though not without the last word.

“Fine,” you practically growled, stepping over water, his hand reaching out to you, trying to balance over a puddle pooled at your feet. You grabbed his hand, one arm covered your heaving chest, as you made your way over the mess, and finished your thought. “But don’t come to my room. Go back to bed. I don’t want Maya to–.”

“I don’t care right now–,” he cut you off, but you didn’t let him continue before interjecting. 

“You will in the morning, Jacob,” you bit back, making fiery eye contact, crossing your arms. The hiss you released at the feeling of both arms covering yourself again was embarrassing. So, you tried to play it off. “You will. Just don’t make the mistake of coming to see me ton–.”

“It wouldn’t be a mist–.”

“Jake. Yes it would,” you insisted with a tense whisper, taking one step towards him, not taking your eyes from his once. “I’m not going to have you ruin what you have with her just to make a fucking mistake with me.”

Throughout the span of that small conversation, you saw his eyes go through every possible wave of emotion. His beautiful, deep set eyes had started wide with excitement, to now being filled with white hot frustration. He was mad. 

The last emotion made its way straight to the pit of your tummy and to your panties as you felt them draw even wetter. Damn. You’d take any sex with Jake right now, but angry sex? Dammit if that didn’t get you–. 

No, y/n. Stop it.

“Do you not want this? Why were you—just minutes ago if you don’t–?”

“I never said I didn’t want it.” You flat-out said, without a second thought. Why even lie when you’d just exposed yourself with whatever you’d just done with him? To him?

The two of you stood there, watching each other with flushed cheeks, hot breaths, and equally heaving chests. 

God, you would not be able to hold onto your momentary flash of integrity if you didn’t finish your thought and leave him. 

“We just can’t do it. It wouldn’t be right,” you sniffed. Shit. Your throat was tightening, eyes collecting tears. “I don’t want to be the reason you leave a woman–the woman you love,” you choked, foolishly, on the emotion that quickly made its way from your throat to your eyes. “I just want you to be happy.”

His own expression matched yours, his eyes pooled with tears of dejection. There were once more a couple moments, filled with silence.

Silence, aside from your deep breathing, and wrought with an energy you couldn’t place. You had to get away from him.

“Just go to bed. I won’t fucking bother you,” he said, swallowing thickly. He then spoke your words from earlier. “And let me clean this up.”

Again, you sniffled, but nodded, looking down, to cover it with a barely there 'goodnight'.

He didn’t say anything else, just went about his business in the kitchen to put things back together, turning his back on you altogether.

Suffice to say, you cried for a good chunk of time as you laid in bed, after changing into a big t-shirt.

Cried big, fat, somber tears.

The crying had even lasted long enough, keeping you up to hear the bed creak much more than necessary when Jake got back to his bedroom. . . The sound of soft, pleasured moans from both of them, accompanying the groans of the bed as they moved on top of it.

Lucky fucking you. 

The bed that used to be yours when that room was yours. . . The acts being made against it that made you want to punch something - someone. Someone with long, black hair and a too-sweet expression.

Like a child, you growled and used a spare pillow to cover your ears until you couldn’t hear anything through the plush filling of the pillow.

You also tried to distract yourself with TikToks, but you couldn’t focus on your feed filled with BabyTok. It just made you sad and wistful as you thought of your day of book shopping with Jake. . .

About 30 minutes later, you figured the coast was clear. It had occurred to you after lying there, doing aimless shit, that you were still very thirsty. . . your tongue felt like cardboard in your mouth. 

When you opened the door to go to the kitchen, though, you found a tumbler that didn’t belong to you, waiting for you. And when you picked it up, you realized exactly who it belonged to. . . the words told you as much. 

Merry Christmas, Jacob Thomas! 

Love you, 

Mom 

The Cricut-vinyl lettering was placed carefully across the front of the black off-brand Yeti. What you found when you looked through the clear lid was a cup full of water. Iced water.

The crying that ensued as you closed the door and placed the cup on your nightstand was no surprise to you. The sweet action made your heart thrum with unbridled admiration for him. 

You hated how things were now. . . how simply interacting with him the way you had was a mistake. When you compared it to the way things had been before the fateful day in the kitchen, it made your stomach sink and your eyes well with more tears. 

Then there had been what you’d heard through the walls. . . it made you want to fucking vomit. But. . .you’d brought it on yourself. No question about it. 

Aaand, more of the damn tears. . .

After taking a few healthy swigs from the cup, you felt sleep find you without warning. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own.

And, as you faded into a well-earned sleep, the only solace you found that night was the smooth bump of your tummy, which your hands held protectively–longingly–as you wandered to sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmmmm what do you think will follow that night in the kitchen?????

Change the World from Friendsgiving :)

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu &lt;3

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @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

(i think i figured out the tags limit! woooohoooo!! boo, tumblr. you're not getting me down today lmao)

[sugalaritae]

starstruck pt 8

Summary: Love is uncertain.

pairing: Kim Taehyung x plus-sized f. reader, Min Yoongi x plus-sized f. reader

genre(s): angst and getting shit together

au: non!idol, university!au, f2l, strangers to lovers

rating: 18+

word count: 7.2k

warnings: anxiety, yoongi goes to therapy (finally), unrequited love, fear of love, insecurities, kissing, almost sex (sorry), POV switches, everyone is starting to be a little more honest with themselves and each other.

author's notes: OMG it has been so long!! I am so sorry that it took me so long to write this. I'm so happy it's been finished though and that means that we only have one more chapter to go. I am also tossing around the idea of an epilogue, so maybe two chapters. I can't really believe that it's been over a year since I got this idea and decided to post it, the first time posting any BTS fanfic and now look at where we are! Thank you to every person who has stuck around. You mean a lot to me! Anyway, I hope you're all doing well and that this winter is being kind to you. I hope you enjoy this!! Thank you to @augustbutwinter for being an incredible beta!!

tag list: @miscelunaaa @herecomesjoon @minyoongiboongi @minttangerines​

© sugalaritae, 2022. you do not have any permission to repost or translate my work even if you give credit. all of this is mine.

YOONGI

“How long has it been?” 

He thinks for a moment as if he doesn’t know the exact date or how easy it would be to calculate it down to the hours or maybe even minutes since he last saw or heard from you. 

“Three months,” he answers and watches as his therapist, an older woman with graying hair framing her face, nods. 

“Do you think you want to reach out to her?” she asks.

This makes him actually think. This he doesn’t have memorized because he isn’t sure. He’s been thinking about whether or not he should message you because, while it has been months since he spoke to you, he isn’t sure you want to see or hear from him. 

The last time he saw you was in the campus bookstore but you didn’t notice him. It had sent a surge of pain through his chest as he remembered every time you used to turn his direction even when you didn’t know that he was anywhere near you. He could remember the bright smile that would slip over your beautiful face or how sometimes you would wrinkle your nose and joke that you could smell him. The perpetually sad part of his brain that overthinks and questions every little thing, whether it’s in his life or in others, wonders if you could sense that he was near and chose not to turn to look at him. The slightly less sad part doesn’t want to know at all. 

He shrugs and looks at his hands as his thumb rubs at a spot on the side of his index finger. A habit he picked up a long time ago. One that his mother used to get after him about. He thinks it might have started out of his OCD, a way of comforting him and putting him back in his body when he felt so out of control and his brain was firing nonstop. 

“I don’t know if she’ll want to hear from me,” he says softly and shrugs again. “I think I’ve placed the ball on her side of the court and I’m just waiting to see if she does anything with it,” he explains as he looks up. 

“Do you think she might be waiting to hear from you?” 

This was what he liked about his therapist. From the first meeting, it seemed to him that she might be inside his head. Or maybe it was that his problems, his thoughts weren’t that unique and she had seen them over and over again in her twenty-five years of being a therapist. Another thing he liked about her–she’s got plenty of experience of talking to sad people under her belt. It feels very much like talking to an older family member, except one that doesn’t have biases. She’s neutral and asks the important questions, both ones that he’s been asking himself already and ones that his brain couldn’t even imagine asking. 

“I sometimes wonder that,” he begins, rubbing his neck. “Then the little voice tells me that she’s probably realized that she’s better off without me. That she has someone now that takes care of her and —” 

“You’re projecting. You don’t know what —” she looks down at her notes, “Taehyung is like when he’s with her.” 

He smiles at this and shakes his head. “I think he’s good for her. I’ve seen them on campus. He waits for her outside of class with coffee.” 

“And that means that he’s better than you?” 

He pauses, then slowly shakes his head. 

“You don’t know what’s going on in her head. You’ve stated before that she’s capable of putting on a strong exterior and that it was only in private that she let people see what was really going on.” 

He nods. 

“So why do you think that she’s changed that much in the last three months? Allowing people to see who you are, to let the public see that kind of vulnerability is a skill that no one in this world has. Except maybe the Dalai Lama but I think even he hides a lot.” 

Another thing he likes about her, she doesn’t like bullshit. From anyone. 

“By saying you think she has someone who takes care of her now erases all the ways that you took care of her before and all the ways that she took care of you. By saying that you’re beating yourself up over something that is untrue.” 

She is looking straight at him and he feels like his chest is about to burst open. There is a tightness in his throat and he feels the familiar sting of tears build. 

“She relaxed when she was around you. That means that she felt comfortable enough with you to allow herself to let those walls down. That means you took care of her and by the sounds of it, when she let her walls down you did too.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s true. I think she was right, I had walls up around her and that’s why I always drank. Especially when I was with her.” 

He watches as the older woman smiles.

“Do you think that maybe the part of you that thinks this new man is taking better care of her could have been scared by the way you were vulnerable around her? That you felt so uncomfortable you wanted to drink, so you could pretend like you weren’t being vulnerable and it was the alcohol allowing you to be that comfortable with another human being?” 

He swallows past the lump, slowly. His throat has gotten tighter. He doesn’t know why that is where all his tension resides. He’s a poet. He reads his vulnerability in words and it never gets like this when he’s up on stage. 

There is a part of him that wants to scream and run, but that part has gotten quieter in the last few months and the part that was always there craving the closeness of others is louder. This is the part that lets him know it’s okay to cry and he closes his eyes, wiping at the tears that fall down his face. He bows his head to try and hide the tears even though she’s seen him cry so many times before. 

“Be kinder to yourself, Yoongi. You are worthy of someone having their walls down around you. You’re worth letting your own walls down and letting people in. And your emotions are wonderful, they deserve to be heard. If you’re comfortable with it, I think maybe now might be the time to contact her and see if she’s willing to talk.” 

He wipes at his cheeks, a little rougher this time, and nods. 

“Remember the exercise I gave you last time? Have you started it?” 

He looks up and smiles through the tears that are slowly starting to fade. The image of the small, washed out, old glass jar sitting on his bedside table with the notepad and pen right beside it. 

“I’ve failed a few days but there were a few times when I rushed to the notepad and wrote something down as soon as it happened, like I needed to capture it on paper and save it for another time.”  

She nods, a pleased smile slowly spreads across her face and Yoongi feels a small rush of pride through his chest. He’s done well. Last session she told him to start writing down the things that make him feel happy, proud, or content. He’s not always great at writing them down but he does look forward to rereading them in a year’s time. He had originally started with full explanations of events but they’ve slowly started to become one single line. 

Cooked Jin dinner. 

Didn’t leave the house when I wanted a drink.

Witnessed a person’s face light up with happiness when they saw their child. Wouldn’t have noticed that if I was still drinking. 

“You’re doing a good job. I know that it might not feel like it some days, but you are,” she says softly as she closes her notebook. “Think about contacting her. It might be what you both need.” 

He steps out into the cool breeze. He prefers being the last client of the day. So he can go out and be in the quiet of the night. He doesn’t know why he likes it but he does. Perhaps it reminds him a bit of his breakdown, the way that the city felt like a welcoming stranger. Unknown and lit up with emotions. He thinks maybe he’s searching for that feeling again, that he wants that feeling of alertness that he had. The way the world seemed to shine in a new way while also feeling like it was the darkest place he had ever been. An intense and beautiful combination of the light of the world and the darkness of his mind. 

He hasn’t experienced that yet though. He has yet to experience that feeling again and he supposes that it’s a good thing. Maybe it’s not a good idea to go and look for that. He doesn’t want the low that came with it. He just wants the feeling of being alive again because he had never experienced that before. 

Tonight he feels the burn in his pocket. The phone is right there and he could send a text. Just a quick hello to tell you that he’s thinking of you. That he misses you. Because that is the thing that he is missing the most: you. You are everything to him and he wants you to know that even if you don’t feel the same way as he does. Then he will bury all his feelings, he will be okay; he just needs you in his life. 

TAEHYUNG

He can tell something is wrong. 

There’s been something on your mind for the last few weeks and he knows it’s got to do with Yoongi. It can’t be easy not talking to your best friend. The person that you relied on so heavily. He couldn’t imagine not talking to Jungkook. He talks to him every single day, and he knows, eventually, when they stop living together that won’t change. He’s very much Taehyung’s person. 

Except love complicates everything.  In all the world’s uncertainty, this is the thing that he is the most certain of. 

A year into his friendship with Jungkook, he had woken up one day to the realization that he was in love with his best friend. A sickening kind of love that lasted for two miserable, and yet, blissful months. 

He doesn’t like to think about it often, has never admitted it out loud to anyone. It’s such a cliche–the queer friend falling in love with his straight best friend. He’s embarrassed to admit it, even though he sometimes thinks back on those months with fondness. That feeling of joy every time he saw Jungkook. Except that here was nothing to say. Nothing could come out of it. Jungkook wouldn’t reciprocate the feelings. He didn’t want to be let down verbally, so he kept it all in and eventually those romantic feelings switched back to platonic. The line was so easy to cross. 

Which is why your relationship with Yoongi scares him so much. 

He tries not to think of what you miss about Yoongi. Whether you miss him platonically or romantically. Doesn’t want to think about the possibility of unresolved feelings being there, hiding under your surface waiting for an opportunity to reveal themselves and crush his heart while making yours lighter.

There is a pang in his chest at that thought. That you might love someone that isn’t him.  

He still hasn’t told you that he loves you. Even though it’s been several months. He, again, doesn’t want that disappointment. That embarrassment. Though he has seen moments where he thinks perhaps you feel the same way about him. The way that you look at him when he’s made a joke. You look at him like he’s the most stupid and most funny person alive. It makes his heart soar and he wants nothing more than to hear the words from you so he can finally release his own.

He just knows that there might be something missing there that is stopping you. Because you can’t really love someone back when there is something going on with your own heart; and there is obviously something going on with your heart. You’re battling something. Whether it’s figuring out what your feelings are toward Yoongi or just missing him, he just wants you to be okay and to figure it out. He’d love to help but he knows that you also need to do that on your own. So, he leaves it. 

He’s thought about it a lot too. How if you told him that you loved Yoongi that he would be okay. He thinks he would be okay. Because he’s okay with being another person you love, if it means that you love him too. 

“You think that you’d be able to be okay with her loving someone else at the same time as you?” Jungkook asks as Taehyung takes a sip of the water bottle he’s just opened. 

“I think so, yeah.” 

“Even if that person is someone who humiliated you?” 

He thinks about this for a moment but he already knows the answer, it sits at the back of his brain and has been for a while now. He trusts that you know him. There is a part of him that thinks perhaps this is a mistake on his part, that Yoongi could just be a total asshole and you are blind to it. 

He shrugs, because it’s all moot until you actually tell him. Until he confronts you about it because the thought you would choose someone over him has been driving the anxiety car in his brain. He’s starting to feel like the residual smoke is slipping down his spine and perforating his lungs, making him feel like he’s choking from the inside out. 

“Doesn’t matter right now,” he says with another shrug. “I’m thinking too far into the future again. She might not love him at all.” 

He doesn’t want to look at Jungkook who is probably giving him a look that says if you say so but he does anyway and for a moment he thinks his best friend is going to say those words that are floating around his head out loud, but instead Jungkook nods. 

“It’s going to be okay, hyung,” he says instead and Tae nods because no matter what happens he has Jungkook and that matters more than any relationship. 

He wants to believe that. 

YOU 

It’s starting to become a burden. 

Yoongi’s name is still etched onto the list of message conversations. You’ve hidden his photos like they’re some kind of secret. You don’t want that. You want him. You’re not sure in what way just yet, but your heart aches every morning when you realize that the day has slipped into the afternoon and time has ticked by without a good morning text from him which was your custom. 

Sometimes you used to text him first and he would complain that you had beat him to it; but not anymore. 

The heartache used to be constant, from the moment you woke up and you remembered that you don’t talk to him; but your brain and your body have gotten used to it. 

Now the heartache surprises you at random times. 

It’s not just the texts, it’s seeing things that remind you of him or things that you know he would enjoy. You had made it to the counter at the university bookstore to buy him a book that you thought he might enjoy when you realized that you don’t know how you would get it to him. You bought it anyway, not wanting to leave the queue; but now the book just sits on your coffee table like a reminder of what you need to do and are putting off. 

Just like how you’re putting off talking to Taehyung about it. 

You know that he’s curious even though he won’t ask. He’s giving you room to do whatever it is that you need to do and you’re not sure what that is. 

That’s the frustrating part. 

So the days slip by. You ignoring the book that still sits on your coffee table. You rest cups on it, keys, plates, and then your shirt followed quickly by your bra. You ignore the awful nagging bubbling feeling you get when there is a quiet moment between you and Taehyung and you remember there is an entire conversation that you could start that would fill the silence. 

Days slip by into evenings. Some nights you stay at Taehyung’s house and wake up to watch him and Jungkook joke while they cook breakfast. Some nights he takes you home and you fuck until every muscle in your body is weak and tired. 

Tonight is one of those nights. 

Taehyung kisses your neck and you moan out with pleasure because he has started to memorize the places on your body that he knows you like to be kissed. His hands are slipping down your sides, a thumb brushing against your nipple as he does so. He likes these little passing touches and so do you. 

He leads you, backward, onto your bed, undressing you as you go. You open your eyes just in time to watch first, your bra and then shirt slip off the book and onto the floor. It catches you by surprise how quickly you fall back into your head like standing at the pool’s edge and being pushed backward into it. Memories of Yoongi splash around you, and you suddenly remember laying on your floor because you’ve both had too much to drink and you can’t make it to your bed. The way his laughter used to fill this small apartment. You close your eyes to try and get the memory out but all you can see is his smile, that wide one he gets when he’s absolutely and purely happy, the one that makes his eyes shine bright with stars.  

“Hey,” Taehyung’s voice whispered and you open your eyes to find him no longer buried in your neck but looking right at you, his hands on either side of your shoulders. 

“Where did you go?” he asks. 

You don’t know why but you suddenly want to cry. He’s so caring. Worry paints his brow where sweat would have gathered if only you hadn’t fallen into your mind. 

You could lie to him and tell him that you’re still here but you can’t. You’ve had enough of not talking about this and you separate yourself from him and sit up on the bed, grabbing your night shirt that is still laying on top of the duvet where you left it that morning.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks as he leans back against his heels, and watches you slip the thin shirt over your head.

“No!” you say a little too loudly, a little too abruptly because it catches you off guard and you reach out to him and take his hand in yours and pull him down beside you. 

You stare at the duvet and he stares at you for a moment until he pulls his gaze away and lets it fall to the wooden board that you are concentrating on. 

There is an unbearable silence between the two of you as you try to quell the feeling of tears. You don’t want to cry and make this whole thing worse. 

“If you don’t want to continue this, that’s okay. I’d like to be your friend though, after I get over you that is,” he says softly with a little sad laugh and a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, two things that break your heart. 

“What?” you ask, the sudden fear of losing him surging through your body. “No.” 

You stare at him and he gives you the softest smile that somehow pushes the tears closer to the edge. 

“I understand if you’re not ready to be in a relationship. Everything that’s been going on with Yoongi, if there are feelings there, and you need to figure that out then I’ll take a step back. I know what it’s like to be in love with a friend and not know what to do with them, it takes time but it will be okay.” 

Your gaze slips to his hands. He’s picking at his left thumb nail and you are reminded of Yoongi and his tick. The way that he slips the pad of his thumb tenderly over his index finger. Always the same spot. This tick of Taehyung’s is different though. It’s a little more nervous, like a distraction to take him out of his body instead of into it. 

It makes you so angry how kind he is. You’re not used to this kindness and part of you thinks that you’re undeserving of it. It took you so long to trust the kindness that Yoongi gave you. He had helped break down that wall. Chipped away at the brick until there was a window where he could slip his hand through and hold yours. Like a little glory hole for love you can hear him say in your head. He had chipped away at it so masterfully and patiently that you had allowed kindness from Jimin. Only for him to ruin everything and tear it all out from under you. 

He had stepped through with a drink in his hand and begged you for something that you’re not sure he was ready for.. It had been Taehyung’s kindness that had shone a light on the whole situation and made you realize the red flag that Yoongi kept in his back pocket. 

“I don’t know what I want with Yoongi,” you find yourself saying and then you move closer to Taehyung and rest your head on his shoulder. “But I know that I don’t want you to leave,” you say and you can feel him relax at the weight of your head on him or maybe it’s the weight of the whole situation that has suddenly lifted from his shoulders just a little. 

“What does that mean for us?” he asks and you don’t fault him for this question. You are sure that you would be asking the same question if the roles were reversed. 

“I think I need to be honest with you about the whole situation,” you answer and he nods. “I can make us some tea,” you say and leave his shoulder to look at him.

He nods. “That would be good actually because I need a moment to bring myself down,” he says as he looks down at the slight bulge in his joggers, a bulge that has already gone down since you felt it against your palm in the hallway on your way to your apartment.

The two of you share a little laugh and smile before you lean in and kiss him gently. He softens into the kiss and slips a hand onto your arm. 

“This isn’t helping,” he mumbles against your lips as the two of you let it linger. 

You bite your bottom lip and separate. “Sorry.” 

He shakes his head and chuckles. 

You push yourself up off the bed and begin to head to the kitchen, stopping on your way to pick up your shirt and bra. You toss both into the hamper near the wall and miss, but you don’t go and pick them up, that’s a job for tomorrow. Instead, you slip into the kitchen and fill the kettle before setting it on its dock and flicking the switch. 

You lean against the counter in time to see Taehyung fall against your bed with his arms and hands above his head. You’re not sure what he’s thinking about but you hope that your words and the kiss have quieted the worries in his head. That they have cleared something up, even if it’s just a little something. You don’t want him to think that you’re making tea to sit down and have a conversation with him only to break up with him. 

You fill the teapot with hot water and scoop out a small amount of tea leaves into the water, stirring it, and setting the lid carefully onto the ceramic pot. You carry everything carefully over to the coffee table and set them down, setting the pot down on the book. 

You sit down on the small loveseat and lean down on your knees for a moment. Now that you’re close to him again the guilt of ruining a perfect moment slips into your system and starts to bite at you like a snake leaving bits of poison in your veins. 

“Hey,” Taehyung whispers as he moves from the bed and slips next to you and leans into the corner of the loveseat and pulls you to him, letting your back rest against his chest. 

You can feel the rise and fall of each of his breaths and you look down at yourself. You slip yourself onto the loveseat more and curl into him. His hand brushes against the back of your head until it’s fallen against your spine and he slips his fingers up and down your back in a pattern that should tickle, but you find comforting. 

“He hurt me,” you say and he stills for a moment as if to give himself another moment to prepare for whatever truths you’re about to tell him. 

“How?” 

He had comforted you that night when Yoongi had confessed his love. He had given you his shoulder to cry on and he had kissed your forehead even though you barely knew each other. You hadn’t told him what had happened, just that you needed someone and he had let you in without any questions asked. There is a small little voice in the back of your head that says that this was a red flag, to let you in so easily, but you’re not sure if it’s red or just a little bit pink and the lighting is dark. 

“He’s an alcoholic,” you say and it feels like you shouldn’t say that out loud. It’s not your secret to say. 

“Did he hit you?” 

You shake your head against his chest. “Oh no. No.” 

Now it feels stupid to say the thing that you need to say but you do anyway. 

“He told me he loves me,” you pause, the words feel heavy on your tongue but right and you’re not sure you like that feeling. “He’s in love with me.” You stare at your fingers and pick at the skin around your nail. “When you and I were texting about our date, I was with him, and he told me that he was jealous and then he kissed me that night but nothing else happened, he stopped it.” 

You worry that you’re hurting Taehyung’s feelings but his hand hasn’t stopped moving against your back and so you continue. 

“So when he told me that he loved me the night after I left your place, I realized that he was only ever vulnerable with me when he was stoned or drunk. That he couldn’t let me in without the help of a substance and I had just left you. You were kind to me and you had let me in after what I think was the perfect date. Your kindness made me realize that he wasn’t ready to give any of that that- kindness or love.” 

You move your head to look at him and he’s staring at the furthest wall. His hand is still moving but he looks lost in thought. 

TAEHYUNG 

He wants to run away. He can’t stop the sinking feeling in his chest. He’s sure his heart is slipping deeper into his body because he feels out of place. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with everything that you’ve just told him. You still haven’t told him that you don’t love Yoongi. He feels grounded though, surprisingly, and he’s sure it’s because he hasn’t stopped touching you. He wonders if you’re aware of how you ground him. He knows that it’s two conflicting feelings–the sinking heart and groundedness– but nothing in this world, at this moment, makes sense, so he doesn’t think much of it. 

"How is that supposed to make me feel?" he finds himself asking and immediately regrets it, though there is a small voice somewhere deep that tells him it's proud of him. 

“What do you mean?” your voice slips into him and that isn’t the answer he wanted to hear but he supposes he probably would have asked something similar, if not that exact question. 

“You realized that he wasn’t ready for you because of me?” he asks. He wants clarification or confirmation. No, he needs it.

He wants his heart to stop beating so wildly and for his head to stop screaming that you are in love with Yoongi. That you don’t have it in your already occupied heart to love him back. 

He’s going to be heartbroken again, and he guesses he should be used to this by now. It’s what he’s best at–falling in love with people who are incapable of loving him back. 

You shift in his lap and he lets out a groan as you push into his hip. For a moment he’s taken out of his head and put into the movement, the way his body is pushed as you move to look at him. He isn't sure he wants to look at you just yet. His heart hurts and he’s preparing for the worst because what else is there? 

Jungkook was right, as usual. He’s not ready to hear that you’re in love with Yoongi. Even if you stay with him. 

“Yeah,” you say and he looks down at your lips before he feels your hand against his cheek. Your thumb presses lightly against his chin in an effort to lift his gaze. 

“No one had ever treated me like you did that night. I had never had a date like that where I didn’t want to leave and where I was respected,” you say and he can’t help how his heart reacts to that. You’re worth so much more than what he gave you on that date. You’re worth better food and better conversation. 

He stays silent though because he doesn’t want to interrupt you. There’s a light somewhere deep in his chest that glows like some sort of mythical creature in a dark forest, guiding him out of it and toward the sun. 

You are his sun. 

“You treated me like I was worth something. Worth being paid attention to and like I was the most beautiful woman that you had ever seen.” 

The part of him that wants to grip onto the thought of being unlovable hates how the corner of his mouth twitches upward at that. The way his eyes get just a little bit wider and how his heart beats wilder in his chest. 

He hates Yoongi all over again. Hates him for being so stupid and not treating you the way that you should have been treated all those years when he had such a wonderful person as a friend. How he had just let that all go is beyond him and he thinks about how he wants to show you respect every single day for as long as you will let him. 

A different part of him, the part that is filled with the boys laughter from school, chimes in and tells him he’s so fucking weak for being this much of a romantic. 

He finally registers your face though, and the look on it ignites the fear all over again. You don’t have to say it for him to know. You do love Yoongi. You don’t need to say anything for Taehyung to know; but to his dismay you do. 

“I wanted a love that was better than what he offered. I deserve a love that is better than all that.” 

His heart breaks a little and he isn’t sure if it’s an empathetic break or his own. He kisses you though. Presses a kiss against the side of your mouth and lingers there just for a moment before he slips his hand against the back of your neck and pulls you into him gently. He releases you after a moment and nods. He looks at you, his gaze falling over your beautiful features. You are stunning. 

He still can’t say it though. 

The boy’s laughter builds again. 

He’s a fucking coward for not being able to say it to you then and there. Because you have a love that is better than all that. He is in love with you so deeply that he thinks it hurts just a little. 

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” he says softly as he realizes that he made your whole thing about him and he doesn’t want to do that. He’s trying to be better at that. 

You curl into him and his heart beats so wildly in his chest that he thinks perhaps it will give everything away. The adrenaline spiking so fast through his veins makes him want to say it out loud. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep it in but he also knows that you’re not ready to hear him say it. You’re not ready for his love just yet, even though you say that you’re deserving of it, he doesn’t know if you’ll run after he tells you and he doesn’t want to experience that again. He can handle you loving someone else while he’s in love with you but he doesn’t want to watch you leave because he loves you. 

He marvels, sometimes, at love a little when he’s alone in his room. How it makes him want to kiss you and keep this all to yourselves, and how it also makes him want to watch you be free and do whatever you want. The love he feels for you is unlike any previous love, because it mixes with the heartbreak and humiliation and tells him that he’ll be okay even if you leave him. Even if you leave him for Yoongi, he’ll be okay.

He doesn’t want to experience that though if he can help it. 

“You deserve the best kind of love,” he whispers and slips his face into the crook of your neck as his fingers slip up your arm.

“I’d like a chance to fall in love with you,” you say and his heart leaps. 

“What about Yoongi?” 

There is a silence that feels like it draws a curtain over the whole apartment, locking the two of you into a prison, but he remains perfectly still until you answer. 

YOU 

You’re not sure how to say this without coming out as the villain. How do you tell someone you care so deeply about that you were once in love with Yoongi? That if you had a second chance that you would fall in love with him and you’re not sure how long it would last but that it might last forever. 

“I think he’s in the past,” you say, instead because it’s the truth. 

“You’ll let me know if that changes?”

You love him for that question and you nod. 

Sometimes you think that Taehyung can read you in the same way that Yoongi was able to. He will do or say something that catches you so off guard but is exactly what you were thinking about and it makes you feel seen, as if you’re wearing a coat made out of the scariest vulnerability. 

“What if we go away?” 

You turn a little to face him.

“Where?” 

He pushes himself up straighter and you watch as his gaze falls to your chest. The bra lays on the floor and you smile just a little as he shakes his head to try and get himself out of the trance of staring at your breasts through the thin cotton fabric. 

“You mentioned your parents have a cabin, right? We could go there for a week or so. And you have that essay due. You could work on it up there. I’ll cook for you and we can just … take it easy,” he says softly as his fingers slip against your forearm and then his gaze falls to your hand as he slips his long fingers between yours. “Let it just be a week for us. We can talk about anything you want to talk about or we don’t have to talk at all. Just be together.” 

You follow his gaze to your fingers and you watch as his fingers slip over yours. He has nicer hands than yours. You’ve always been a little self conscious about them, women who love women are supposed to have long fingers that will get the job done, but you have little fingers like your ex. Jimin had liked that you had short fingers like him but you like Taehyung’s fingers better. They are excellent and mesmerize you in so many ways. 

“I would like that.” 

YOONGI 

He’s sitting on his sofa, the TV is on but he’s not really paying attention to it. Some cooking show is on. Or maybe it’s a travel show. A can of coke is in his hands and he stares at the TV but not at it. His mind is a million miles from where he is sitting. 

It’s thinking about what he’s going to text you. 

It’s been three days since he walked out of his therapist’s office and decided that maybe now is the time to text you and start up the conversation. He’s written several ways to start it in the notes app on his phone. 

Hey, I miss you. Do you miss me?

Hi. I know that you might not want to hear from me but I’ve changed and I was wondering if maybe you would want to get together for a coffee.

I fucked up. I’m sorry that I fucked up so horribly. You were right. You deserve everything nice and not as fucked up as I am.

Hey, I was wondering if we could get together sometime.

He’s also written entire paragraphs of text telling you.

Hey. I am sorry. I might sound completely self indulgent in this, and for that I apologize, I think this needs to be said though and that’s why I’m writing this down now before texting you. I’m sorry that I pushed my feelings onto you at a grossly inappropriate time. It was selfish of me. The truth is though that you were right. I was only able to tell you everything I was feeling if I was inebriated. I had a problem. I think I will have a problem for the rest of my life. I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever drink again, or smoke weed again. It lets me be a fake kind of vulnerable. A vulnerability that is just all pretend and make believe. A way to fool myself that I am letting people in when I’m only just locking them out. I never wanted to do that with you. I wanted to let you in. I think I did, at times. Telling you things that I haven’t even told Jin about my family; but I’ve never let you in fully. For that, I apologize. You were right about that. You deserve someone who lets you in all the way. Who wants to let you in and is capable of doing so. Another truth is that I miss you. I miss you so much it feels like there is part of me that is missing. I don’t know if you and I will ever have a friendship that is the same and I have to be okay with that because it was my fault. 

He doesn’t know if he will ever send them though. As he stares at the screen he thinks about another possibility. Just a simple “hey” and leave it at that. See where it goes, if it goes anywhere. 

The thing that scares him the most,though is if it doesn’t go anywhere. And he knows that he can’t text you until he’s absolutely okay with that. 

The front door and Jin steps out of his sliders before he walks into the kitchen and Yoongi finally breaks his stare and joins him. “If I, hypothetically, saw her, would you want to know?” Jin asks as he reaches into the bag and takes out the items that he’s bought for the week. 

“Did you see her?” he asks, knowing full well that Jin has in fact seen you. 

Jin nods. “Yes. She was at that newer cafe this morning when I was there for my meeting.”

Taehyung’s cafe. Yoongi knows which one.  

“How is she?” 

Jin smiles and then shrugs. “She said she was okay. Greeted me with a hug and told me that she misses me.”

There is silence in the kitchen and a piece of Yoongi wants to scream and ask if you mentioned him, but instead he takes the second bag and begins to unpack that. 

“She said that she’s going away with her boyfriend for a week. Going to her parent’s cabin in the mountains.”

Again there is silence and Yoongi gives a little grunt of acknowledgement. Boyfriend. It was bound to happen and he’s not sure why there is even a part of him that is surprised. 

“To be honest, Yoongi, she seemed sad. Like you, a little. You two always think you’re so good at hiding your emotions but it’s right there in your eyes giving every fucking thing away.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop what he’s doing. Jin is right. Though, he’s always right and it’s incredibly annoying. “Yoongi,” Jin says and looks at him. “Text her.” 

Yoongi (21:45): Hey.  I know it’s been a long time. 

You (22:03): Hi. Yeah, it has been. 

Yoongi (22:05): I’m sorry about that. I wanted to give you space. 

You (22:05): I appreciate that. 

Yoongi (22:06): Could we get together sometime for a coffee? There are some things that I want to tell you and I  think it would be best if we did it in person and not over text. 

You (22:08): I’m at my parent’s cabin for the next week, can it wait until I get back? 

Yoongi (22:08): Yes. 

You (22:35): If it’s important then I think it would be okay if you came up for lunch. I kind of want to spend this week relaxing and to be honest, I don’t know if I’ll be able to relax knowing that you want to tell me things. 

Yoongi (22:40): You’d be okay with that? 

You (22:41): Yes. 

Yoongi (22:41): Tell me when and I’ll drive there. 

You (22:57): What about the day after tomorrow? It will give you a day to write everything down that you want to say to me 😛

Yoongi (22:58): You know me too well. What time? 

You (22:58): 1300? 

Yoongi (22:59): Anything you want me to bring? 

You (22:59): Just yourself. 

Yoongi (23:00): I’ll be there. Just me. Have a good night. You (23:04): You too. 

[villainsblog97]

Xdinary Heroes when their S/O is sick or injured

The comeback is so close now! (Tomorrow at 8 pm for me) so let's go with another head cannon!

How would the heroes take care of their S/O when their either sick or injured? Let's find out!

Warning: mentions of broken bones and injuries, mentions of painkillers, slights language, mentions of being sick? 🤷‍♀️

Scenario: boyfriend, romance, comedy, fluff

Gun-il ❤️‍🩹

Boy is gonna eat this shit up

Yes he was very shocked and sad when he found out you broke your arm

Your dominant arm for that matter

But he knew he's got to take care of you now

So like I said

He's gonna eat this up

We're talking the whole treatment

Making your meals

Helping you get dressed

Even washing your hair in the bathtub

He's gonna be the best boyfriend / nursemaid ever

He'll rotate the ice and heat too

Help get you pain killers when you need it

Hell he'll even feed you

Yes

"Here comes the airplane"

You knew that was coming

And then he'll set up a movie

And just hold you

On your good side that is

Being ever so delicate with you

Jungsu ❤️‍🩹

He was so excited to hang out with you

Spend some time with his love

Until he called you on the phone

You sounded like you were dying

Sneezing nonstop

And coughing up a lung

Jungsu's mom mode immediately kicked in

"Jagiya are you okay!?"

He would be so worried

You explained to him that you woke up feeling like shit

You felt horrible though

He finally had a day off and you were sick

Junsgu didn't despair though

He was still gonna see you

And take care of you

He showed up at your house with soup, snacks and some tea bags

He would keep a light blanket over you and check your fever often

He'd make you some warm tea

Some soup too

He would be sure to keep his distance from you

He can't get sick

JYP would kill you

But he's gotta make sure you're taken care of

Gaon ❤️‍🩹

Next time Jiseok says you two should go out in the pouring rain and play in it

Tell him no

Because now you're paying for it

You have a cold from hell that was delivered to you by Satan himself

Your head was stuffed to no end

Your throat felt like you were swallowing nails that were lit on fire

Your eyes burned like the 7th circle of hell

And your body shivered like you were in the artics

Jiseok woke up to you sneezing your brains out

He came running in

Of course he laughed a little

"Baby you look awful"

However he feels responsible for this

He asked his band mates to get some stuff that you'll need

Ie: cold meds, cough drops, tea, all the essentials

No way he was leaving you

You could flat line any minute at how bad you looked

He would apologize profusely

And kiss your head

"Jiseok I'm sick!"

"Eh.. I'll take my chances"

He'll make sure to help soothe all the pains, aches and chills

He'll have plenty of tissues for you

And make you warm foods and tea to help your throat

He will not rest until his baby is feeling better!

O.de ❤️‍🩹

He was hella panicked when you told him you couldn't move

There was a shooting pain in your spine

You weren't sure what you did the night before

Seungmin took you to the doctors and found out you had a severely pulled muscle in your back

He halted all his activities to take care of you

He would help you up off the couch if you needed to get up

He would also walk around the house with you to loosen up those muscles

I could also see him having you lay on the couch on your stomach

And he'd massage your back

He would also make sure to have a warm compression against your back

Like Gun-il

He would treat every movement so fragile because he's heard your painful cries

And it kills him to hear you like this

He finally got you to sleep for a bit

Your head rested on his lap

Running his fingers in your hair

Covering you up with a blanket

Making sure you were comfortable every 10 minutes

Jun Han ❤️‍🩹

Poor Jun

He's so worried about you

Your allergies have officially kicked your ass

Your energy is drained

Jun Han has to take care of you

He wants to

He doesn't want to see you sick

He'd come in and get you set up with some allergy relief

A humidifier

And lots of tissues

Luckily it was only allergies

But he wanted to make sure they didn't make you sick

You would be lying if you didn't say you were grateful to have him here

He took care of you so well

He even promised you ice cream when you felt better

You woke up from your nap

And told him that you felt a little better

Jun Han sighed in relief

You two would watch movies and maybe eat some snacks

All was good

Until Jun Han sneezed like 4 times in a row

"Uh... Jagiya... are you sure you had allergies?"

Jooyeon ❤️‍🩹

Jooyeon was an absolute mess

He took you rollerskating

Your date was going great

But you didn't expect it to end in the hospital with a sprained ankle

Jooyeon felt heavily guilty

Rollerskating was his idea

And now you two are waiting to be discharged from the hospital

You kept telling him that you were okay

And not to blame himself

But he vowed he would take good care of you

He'll carry your stuff

Help you off the couch

Hand you your crutches

Make you some food

Order you some food

He's gonna help you in every way he can

He may not be the best at it

He will definitely freak out at any small noise you make

"What's wrong? Are you okay!?"

He's honestly so adorable when he's worried

That's it for today! Hope you guys like it! Don't forget to stream Hair Cut and the other MVs! And vote for XH on MAMA! 😁

[uravichii]

Can I request horror movies with kiri, midoriya, bakugo, and shinso? o(^-^ o )

horror movies ~

characters: kirishima eijirou, midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: swearing

notes: disclaimer ー i didn't have actual references to horror movies here bc i always either fall asleep during them or i just,, forget the plot completely after watching :')

- kirishima eijirou -

you would honestly forget that you two were supposed to be watching a movie that should scare the shit out of you

bc anything you do with eijirou is just

🌼🌞💘 yes 🥰🌸🌟

he's already holding you in his arms before the movie even starts, and when the it starts to flash, "based on real events," he'd jokingly shoot you an "uh oh 🤭" look.

but he still pulls you closer to him to protect you.

he'd definitely get really sad and teary-eyed when a dog gets killed in the first 10 minutes of the movie

i've seen that happen a lot :(

i don't think eijirou would be that scaredー the most reactions you'll get from him are just little flinches which you'd both laugh at afterwards.

he's not even following the plot anymore, he just focuses on you instead.

the way you grab his arm so you could hide your face when you anticipate a jumpscare just,, melts him.

you'd be all frightened from the movie, and eijirou's just thinking, "my s/o is so adorable, i love them 🥰"

there was a time though where a jumpscare actually worked on him,

he was telling you about how that angry-looking creature with red eyes from the movie was bakugo's long lost twin, and he just screams mid-sentence

but he's still guarding you even in fear, shielding you with his arms whilst shrieking from the horrifying bakugo-lookalike 😔

if you actually get too scared that you can't get yourself to look at the screen anymore, eijirou will immediately pause the movie to tend to you.

he'll cup your cheeks so you could face him instead. he'll wait patiently with a comforting smile, stroking your hair and whispering, "we're okay, i'm here!" until you're ready to watch again.

if you decide that you're done with the movie after all, whether it's because it's too scary for you or the plot's just trash,,

eijirou will turn the tv off with no hesitation.

he wasn't even listening anywayヽ(ˇヘˇ)ノ

he now just wants to cuddle you so get ready 😌

- midoriya izuku -

[hello @escapenightmare 🤩]

i am so sorry

izuku would keep blabbering during the movie

he picked out the horror movie for you two and did a whole lot of research beforehand

so he just kept telling you details about the movie and its behind the scenes, that he accidentally spoils you in the process

"that woman wasn't actually killed by the little kid like what happens later in the movie, she actually survived everything and only died in her sleep years afterー"

"whAT ? 😃✋"

and it takes him a whole minute to realize he'd just spoiled you, and you're only 10 minutes into the movie.

he frantically apologizes to you, bowing his head to you nonstop as he searches for another horror movie to watch

but you assure him that everything's fine! and you carry on with the movie

but he does start talking less

you'd squeeze his arm softly when you start to feel a spoiler coming in the middle of his blabbers, and he just whispers a little "ah- sorry!" in response.

the jumpscares would work on izuku a lot, and he just holds onto you everytime.

he'd feel all shy and apologetic the first few times he clung onto you, but after 3 more jumpscares, he just doesn't let go anymore

and do you mind? absolutely not 😌 you're wrapped in each other's arms and legs, practically cuddling already! if you disregard the occasional screaming from both of you

he gets all blushy when you hide in each other's necks at the same time and simply overlooks the fact that his ears were ringing when you squealed very loudly right into his ear 🥰

he felt really bad when he did the same to you later though

after the movie ends, you just stay in each other's hold, discussing your own reviews of the movie. he'd get carried away with his, that you just let yourself fall asleep against beside him.

and after staring at you with heart eyes and flushed cheeks for a good 5 minutes, he tucks you in his blanket, planting a kiss on your forehead before stirring closer to you, your laughter and squeals still echoing in his mind as he too settles into slumber 😴

- bakugo katsuki -

katsuki's also pretty noisy while watching 🧍‍♀️

he just insults the movie the whole time

"oi, y/n. what is this low-budget shit you're making me watch? the fuckー why can't she just stand up? she's fucking hopeless, and those shitty effects-"

"katsuki, baby, if you would just shut up for a second and let me watch the movie, i'd really appreciate it, thank you ☺"

he also tries to predict all the jumpscares and says "told you" everytime he's correct

and it's just taking everything in you not to get up from the couch and get sero to tape katsuki's mouth shut 😔

he eventually stays quiet though when he sees how immersed you are into the movie.

he'll act irritated when you cling onto him when you get scared, but he starts to pullbyou closer everytime.

you started the movie sat on the couch with a modest space between you and katsuki, and halfway through, you have katsuki just completely embracing you.

when you get scared and curl up in his hold, he'll call you weak while he's pressing the back of your head closer to his chest, securing you in his arms.

he's glad the "shitty" horror movie's taking effect on you, otherwise you'd be seeing the blush spreading across his cheeks, even reaching his ears.

he wonders though if you can feel his racing heartbeat against your cheek whenever you hide your face in his chest.

when the movie's over and you start to ask him what he thinks of it, he's just 🤨❓

"didn't you find that plot twist really cool? she was alive this whole time ?"

"hAh?"

man does not remember a single thing

he got confused over two separate (and completely different) characters and thought insisted they were only one.

^ that bullet above was definitely not based on personal experience

"katsuki, i know they're both blonde and female, bUT THEY ARE DIFFERENT. CHARACTERS."

did he think the movie was so bad that he just chose to forget everything right after watching it?

or was he too flustered from you that he couldn't focus on anything else? we'll never know 😌

it's the latter.

- shinsou hitoshi -

you would think that a movie night with hitoshi would be the calmest one out of these four but,,

you jokingly challenge him to find you the scariest horror movie he knows of, and i firmly believe hitoshi is an avid fan of horror movies.

needless to say, he understood the assignment.

he chooses a movie that has a number of jumpscares in it.

the first time you flinch from one, he'll ask you a little "... you okay there?"

but the jumpscares just kept working on you without fail, and after five more in a row, hitoshi goes from genuinely asking if you were okay to just,, mocking you

he'd discreetly glance at your face from the side every now and then because your reactions are just so amusing to him.

but you completely catch him off guard when he starts to feel you clinging onto his arm because you started to feel uneasy from the thriller movie

he stays calm, but he goes completely stiff 🗿

like, he was sure you'd be scared, but he didn't expect you to ,,, seek protection from him :0

and he's gets so nervous that the jumpscare actually works on him for the first time

"jesusー " he jolts. "... y/n, you okay?"

you dismiss your own startlement, and you let out a soft chuckle from the way hitoshi literally clutched his chest when he got scared.

you wanted to tease him back, but only a loud shriek comes out before the words, and you grasp for his arm again.

and hitoshi doesn't mind at all, moreover, he LOVES it!

you sought protection, and he shall provide 🙇‍♂️

he starts letting you hold on to his whole torso instead of just his arm, and his hand's always ready to cover your eyes when he anticipates a gory scene

and by the end of the movie, you're just completely wrapped up in limbs, and you probably saw more of hitoshi's hand drawing closer to your eyes than the gory scenes itself.

even if it's from such a trivial thing like a horror movie, hitoshi's completely overjoyed that you depend on him, and from the feeling of being able to protect you

so, for your next movie night/s, he'll pick out movies with even more jumpscares

bc this man knows what he's doing 🥸

[sevmch]

hq boys as dads calling you while you're away bc your child wouldn't stop crying

characters: kuroo tetsuro, bokuto koutarou

warning(s): none, just fluff. kuroo is v father material aahh!!

a/n: this was sitting on my drafts for a while now. other characters coming soon 👀

kuroo tetsuro

you were overseas for two days to attend a convention that your job required which meant leaving kuroo and your child

kuroo was admittedly and without a doubt, a really good father so when he told you not to worry about them, you left without any worries at all

kuroo knew everything - how to prepare milk and baby food, changing diapers, how to get them to sleep, how to stop their tantrums, basically everything

still you bugged him all the way to the airport to call if something were to happen or if he needed help with anything such as locating the diaper and milk powder

afterall, he was rarely on baby duty since his job required more of his time compared to yours but he has never failed to provide you and his son the time and affection

the first day went by smoothly and without a problem, that is until the next day. your son just wouldn't stop crying so he had to call you to calm him down

no matter what kuroo did, your son just wouldn't stop crying even when he was cradling him gently in his arms and rubbing his back. their child has been crying for almost an hour now, only getting louder and stronger despite his best efforts to calmly shush him or lull him to sleep.

the morning went by pretty fine; kuroo fed, bathed, and played with their son - even changed the diapers twice. their son seemed to be in a pretty good mood throughout the morning but apparently, babies get mood swings too, and that's when the crying started.

kuroo tried basically everything from trying to get their son to drink milk, to giving the pacifier, and humming baby songs he could think of but all his attempts failed. their son wasn't bored nor hungry and was definitely not sleepy so it was starting to worry kuroo.

"hey bud, you're scaring me now," kuroo cooed, softly pressing the back of his hand against their son's forehead but the temperature was fine. kuroo knew all the baby stuff without sweat, even the signals of what they needed but this was entirely different. it was only when then their son pointed to the picture of the three of you framed on the wall that kuroo got his answer. pressing a soft kiss against his son's temple, he whispered softly, "i know bud, i miss mommy too."

kuroo grabbed his phone from the couch and called you, chuckling when you instantly answered on the first ring with a hint of worry in your voice. "tetsu, what's wrong? are you both okay? should i get on the next flight?"

"relax kitten, we're fine. we just miss you."

"awe, i miss both my boys too."

"mama's on the phone bud." kuroo switched to loud speaker, smiling widely at their son who looked at him with wide, doe eyes upon hearing your voice. the crying eventually died down as you kept speaking through the phone with your cute, tiny baby voice until your son fell asleep in his arms.

"is he asleep?" you asked.

"yep. hey, you should use that baby voice often. it's cute," he teased, grinning ear to ear.

"shut up."

the rest of the afternoon was spent at a mall near the airport, buying toys and new clothes and stopping by for ice cream before waiting for you at the terminal.

"look bud, there's mommy!" kuroo crouched to level with their son, pointing at your figure from a distance. their son's eyes lit up when spotting you, giggling and reaching out his other hand that kuroo wasn't holding.

"awe, it's my two favorite boys! i missed you both so much!" you said sweetly, dropping your bags to hug your son.

"i missed you so much, love." you hugged kuroo tightly when he stood up only for him to hug you tighter, peppering kisses on your cheeks.

"missed you more, kitten," he said softly, pressing a light kiss to your lips before carrying your son. you really had nothing to worry about.

bokuto kotarou

you were a little bit worried about leaving bokuto and your child even if it was just for a couple of hours. you had to visit your parents in kyoto and dropby for groceries on the way home

it's not that you didn't trust him, you were just not quite sure if the house would be exactly the same as when you left knowing how bokuto and your child loved to play A LOT

you considered calling akaashi to babysit the two lmao

bokuto matched your child's energy so while you're incharge of all the serious baby duties, bokuto was incharge of playing and goofing around with your child while you rested

really, your child got their hyperactiveness from bo

you were also the one who dealt with the tantrums while bo assisted, so when bo was left to deal with your son's tantrum alone, he panicked and was about to cry himself because your son was crying and it made him sad :(

you left the house around 6 am after preparing breakfast for your husband and son as well as the other things that bokuto will need for the day. althought bokuto spent a lot of time with your child, it didn't always include the serious baby duties so you knew for sure if you hadn't displayed the diapers and vitamins on the counter in advance, he'd be flipping the house upside down searching for them.

you also left a note on the fridge that consisted of all the instructions and reminders to serve as a guide. you trusted bokuto, of course, but you really just didn't want to come home to a mess.

bokuto's arms snaked around your waist and squeezed you lightly in his hug, nuzzling his face at the crook of your neck. "can't you just take us with you?"

"i'd love to kou, but our son just recovered from a fever so it's best if he stays home for now."

he nodded, visibly frowning. you cupped his cheek to get him to look at you. "kou, baby, i'll be back before you know it."

bokuto pouted, looking at you with puppy dog eyes and it took everything in you not to cancel your plans. "call me if there's a problem, okay?" you kissed him goodbye and left.

with the note you left him, bokuto had no troubles throughout the morning routine even during bathtime. he would send you pictures and videos from time to time so you wouldn't have to worry, also because he loved sharing things with you.

bokuto loved playing with your son, loved seeing the adorable smile and hearing the soft giggles during their playtime even if it meant having to crawl on the carpet with his son on his back like a horse.

bokuto was filming him walking around with a huge smile on his face, "come to dada, little guy." your son just recently learned how to walk on their own so their steps were still unstable and wobbly and this resulted to your son tripping on his own feet.

bokuto could shit his pants right now, quickly fumbling to his now crying son to comfort him.

"hey little guy, it's okay you're good, dada's here now." he's whispering comforting words while gently rubbing on their back but the cries only got worse, the tears streaming down the little guy's face nonstop and this made bokuto's heart sink, feeling his own tears pool in his eyes. "shh i'm sorry, i'm sorry... you're okay, i gotchu."

his hands hesitantly reached out hug your son, so fragile it scared bokuto. he was calling you now and thank god you answered right away.

"kou?"

"he won't stop crying and i don't know what to do, can you come home now please? i think i just made our son hate me."

you sighed, "he doesn't hate you, kou. can you tell me what happened?"

"i was taking a video of him while he walked around but then he tripped and i swear i was watching over him! he won't stop crying, oh god i'm gonna cry too."

"did he hit his head? is he seriously hurt anywhere?"

"no," bokuto mumbled and you sighed in relief.

"okay that's good. it'll be fine babe, kids fall sometimes, okay? especially at this stage where they're learning how to walk. just carry him around for a while and he'll eventually ca-"

"what if i drop him?! should i ask akaashi to come over??" he pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder, gently and carefully lifting his son from the ground, pressing him close to his chest despite being nervous.

"you won't drop him kou, i'll punch you if you do, and no, do not call keiji. you got this, babe, you're his dad and he needs you not his uncle."

it took a while to convince bokuto that he was going to be find and to get off the phone so he can start comforting your son. bokuto did as you said, cradling him in his arms while he walked around the house and pointing to the pictures on the wall until your son finally calmed down. the only problem was that his son would start crying again whenever he attempted to bring him down, tiny hands clinging around his neck and onto his shirt.

you arrived home around 8 pm, announcing your arrival only to be met with silence at the door.

"kou?"

your eyes softened as soon as you found him asleep on the couch with your son on top of his chest, his strong arms wrapped securely around the tiny human being. you quietly kneel beside the couch, stroking bokuto's hair which slowly woke him up.

"i'm home." you smiled.

bokuto brought a finger to his lips and you pressed your lips together, taking your son away from his arms so you can tuck him in for the night.

"i'm sooo tired," bokuto whined, resting his head on top of your chest and cuddling close to you as soon as you joined him in bed. "it's my turn to be baby."

you snorted, bokuto's soft snores filling the quiet room in just a few seconds. "goodnight baby."

reblogs & feedbacks r appreciated<3

2021 (c) sevmch | do not copy or repost.

[reignstormz]

| Lion & The Lamb |

INTRO; After hiding your secret crush on the hottest guy in school since freshman year, senior comes around and you finally come face to face with the Samoan, sharing an intimate moment together.

WORD COUNT; 2,300 (maybe, not sure, had some issues, pretty short)

WARNINGS; Takes place in 1984, Bullying, Sweet interactions.

CAST; Y/N ( Yourself) Y/B/F/ N ( Your best friend's name) Roman, Jey, Jimmy, Naomi, and Galina Anoa'i. (Just a story, not saying Galina is anything like her character in this fic)

MINI PLAYLIST; Give Me Your Love - Pebbles/ Two Occasions - The Deele / Ready Or Not - After 7 / Rock With You - Michael Jackson / Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

🦋

NOVEMBER 9th, 1984

The sounds of teenage laughter filled your ears as you sat in the passengers seat of your best friend's car. You sighed, trying the best you could to block out the noise as you read your book that was sitting in your lap. It was a hectic, busy Friday night. Your school's football team had just won yet another game and everyone was at the Drive In Movie Theatre to celebrate, goof around, or get down to business. Typical things that high school students would be up to. You on the other hand, didn't go to the game and was only here because your best friend practically dragged you out of the house.

You were not so big into the normal teenage, high school experiences. You were very quiet, antisocial, and didn't have many friends. School dances weren't your thing, especially parties. Instead, your way of having fun was just keeping yourself company. You were one of the smartest, if not, the smartest girl in school; You were a straight-A student, and you loved to read. Reading brought you joy and gave you the opportunity to escape to a different reality. Many people labeled you as nerdy, but you could care less.

You were over people picking on you, and judging you, which was one of the biggest reasons why you were so reserved. You got bullied heavily up to 4th grade, and your parents decide to homeschool you until high school came around. They wanted things to turn around for you, but it was the exact same. The only difference was, you made one solid friend and you ate school lunch, something other than food from your refrigerator.

Currently, the theatre was going to show Prince's "Purple Rain" and you were in the car waiting for it to start with your best friend. She also happened to be a cheerleader. You met her in PE class, one joke led after another and you guys became very tight. You were kind of surprised that you two were friends since you were so opposite from each other, and from different crowds.

Y/B/F/N's turned her head to look at you. She sighed, rolling her eyes briefly before she snatched your book out of your grasp. You groaned with irritation, and turned as well to make eye contact with her, "Can you stop? You made me lose my place."

"Can you just have fun for once? Girl. We're at the movies and the first thing you want to do is shove your nose into a book." She shades, throwing your book into the backseat.

"I didn't want to come tonight." You stress to her, "I have studying and homework I need to do-"

"That's all you ever do." She cuts you off. "Come on, you've known how long I've wanted to see this movie. Just do this one thing for me, please?"

"So you want me to sit in a car for an hour?" You questioned. A smile slowly creeped onto her face, which quickly answered your question.

You sighed, unbuckling your seatbelt to get out of the car. She furrowed her eyebrows, "Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm getting snacks." You replied, and before you got out of the car she grabbed onto your wrist.

"Can you get some popcorn? Please?" She asked, with clear as day begging look on her face. You rolled your eyes and got out of the car before she asked for candy as well. Any ounce of candy in her system was a not an option, especially since she had to still take you home tonight. As you walked to the concession stand, you saw just about every single familiar face from school. You were so focused on not making eye contact with anyone that you accidentally bumped into another person in front of you, causing their drink to spill all over your white long sleeved shirt. A couple people who were walking by giggled and the girl you bumped into couldn't of been worse.

"Even those ridiculous glasses you wear still can't help you watch where you're going." Galina dissed, looking you up and down before pushing past your shoulder. Her best friend, Naomi, looked at you apologetically for a second before following behind her. You sighed, looking down at your ruined shirt and turned your head, glaring at her. You saw Galina and Naomi walk back to their car, where the the most popular guys in school happened to be. The twins, Jimmy and Jey Uso, were sitting in the trunk of the car while the guy you've had the biggest crush on for the longest was leaning against it.

Roman Reigns was by far the hottest guy you've ever laid eyes on. He was the captain of the football team, he was smart, and also very kind as well believe it or not. You've only talked to him once, and that was when your chemistry teacher paired you two up for a project not too long ago. Roman was nothing but sweet to you, but since you were extremely shy and quiet, you barely said a word to him the entire time. Not only that, you didn't want any rumors to get out that you liked him. You would get teased nonstop, and Galina, who happened to be his girlfriend, would go out of her way to publicly humiliate you. However, it was nothing new. She was the typical mean girl that everyone was afraid of; You, well you weren't afraid of her really, you just didn't have the energy to deal with her bullshit so you always held your tongue.

"What happened to my fruit punch?" You heard Jey ask Galina. She sighed, wrapping her arm around Roman's waist while he looked down at her.

"Some nerd bumped into me and got it everywhere." She replies, and Roman raised his eyebrow.

"What nerd?" He says. Galina nods towards you. Before you and Roman made eye contact, you quickly turned back around and hurried to the bathroom to try to clean yourself up. This night couldn't get anymore embarassing, you thought.

You stared at yourself in the mirror with a lost expression. There was no way you were going to get this stain out of your shirt. You heavily sighed, adjusting your slightly crooked glasses. As you let a hand fall from your nose to your chin in stress, a strand of your sleeve ended up getting caught on a piece of your braces.

You rolled your eyes, groaning. You hated wearing braces for a million reasons, but this was the main reason why you couldn't wait to get them off soon. They got caught into everything. You tried again and again to get the strand to untangle itself but it wasn't budging. Shit, you thought. Now you had no choice but to go back to the car so your friend could help you. So many things were going wrong tonight and all you wanted to do was just go home at this point.

You took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. As you turned the corner, you almost ran into someone else for the second time. You sighed, closing your eyes for a second before looking down.

"I'm sorry." You apologized, sounding a little funny since the strand was still stuck on your braces.

"Damn, you need some help with that?" An attractive voice said, that you immediately recognized. Fuck, you cursed in your head. You slowly looked up and saw the tall Samoan tower over you with a concerned look on his face. You nervously started to tap your foot and your heart began to beat very fast.

His facial expression turned into an amused one and he gently took the strand out of your hand to help you get it loose, "I'll take that as a yes."

Within a minute, he got the strand loose from your braces and you were finally able to rest your arm by your side. You shyly pulled your sleeve shirt down, "Thanks.."

He nodded with a faint smile on his face. Little did you know, Roman always had a thing for you as well. He knew you as the quiet girl in class, ever since freshman year. It was now senior year and you haven't changed a bit. You guys were in classes together but never spoke before, or even sat together until one project. He admired the fact that you were different; Girls threw themselves at him all the time, which made you think that you could never stand a chance but you were wrong. He loved the fact that you were extremely smart and had a head on your shoulders. You had a unique type of beauty that he adored; The glasses, braces, the infectious laugh and the shyness. Roman deep down has a weak spot for the nerdy girls, even though no one knows about that at all. People assume all the time of what his type is or who he was as a person, when really no one knew who he truly was. The only people that knew him best were his family, and Galina at one point but as time went on Roman wasn't happy with the person she's become.

Galina was practically Roman's day one, they've known each other since they were kids through a family friend. She was never like this intimidating, rude person that she was now. Galina actually use to be very sweet, but ever since high school came around and she started hanging out with certain crowds, that's when the popularity really went to her head. Even though it made Roman sad at times that she wasn't the same person she used to be, he was not afraid to let her know how he felt about it. She promised him she'd change, but she's so far gone that it's out of control. You can't make people change, they have to do that on their own and if not, it's time to let them go. Roman thought about doing that many times, but he just didn't want to hurt her, especially with the history they had. It was just hard all around, and you made it even more tough for him.

"Whatchu' doin here all alone?" Roman asks curiously, then looked down at your shirt subtly. He saw a huge red stain and his mind went back to Galina saying she spilled her fruit punch on someone. He couldn't really make out your face since you walked away so fast, but now he figured out that you were the person that she might of spilled it on. Shit, he cursed in his head. Roman felt very guilty.

You noticed that he looked down at your shirt, causing you to slightly cover yourself from embarrassment. Chuckling nervously, you say "Oh, um. I accidentally spilled my drink everywhere..so I came here to clean it up."

He knew that you were lying since he was aware of what happened, but he didn't push it. He's noticed a lot of people cover Galina's ass so they don't get on her bad side. Roman nodded, looking down and unzipped his black jacket that was apart of his track suit, "I got sum' for you then."

"No no that's okay," You kindly reject. You look behind him to see if anyone walks in on the two of you and your heart starts to race. Lord knows that no one can see you in his jacket. Especially Galina, if so, everyone would be on your ass. You didn't feel like dealing with that drama.

Once he took the jacket fully off, your eyes went directly to his arms. Damn, his biceps were huge. You were completely glued to them until Roman jokes out of the blue, "You know, if you wanna' feel them you can just ask."

You snapped out of it and you covered your face, trying to hold back a laugh while blushing. You looked back up at him with a smile on your face, "That's hands down the corniest thing you've ever said to me."

"At least it made you laugh." Roman says with a small smile on his face. You admire his gorgeous smile while you had one of your own, gently grabbing the jacket out of his hands. You couldn't help but take it after that. This reminded you of all the times Roman would crack the dumbest jokes in class just to get you to smile, since you were so quiet and rarely talked to him. It went over your head that he only did it to impress you.

"I should probably back to my friend before she freaks out." You say shyly, thanking him for the jacket before getting ready to leave. Roman didn't want you to leave since he was enjoying this moment alone he had with you, so he thought fast and quickly stood in front of you. Real smooth, Roman.

You looked at him weirdly and Roman's face turned red. He was going to say something but he completely forgot his train of thought, making you want to laugh. The look on his face was priceless. The both of you grinned at each other before you fell out laughing.

"Don't look at me like that, girl.." Roman said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck while you giggled.

"I'm sorry, but you should've seen the look on your face." You pointed towards his face, not being able to contain your laughter, making him laugh even harder. He had the cutest laugh, you could listen to it all day. Once you guys both pulled it together, you both stared at each other in a comfortable silence before he asked, "Do you mind if I can buy you some popcorn or something?"

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that Roman-"

"Don't worry bout' it, come on." He chuckles, nodding towards the exit. You smiled at him, secretly loving every second of this. Never in a million years you would've thought a crush of yours would go out of his way to do this for you. Roman was such a good guy; You were having such a bad night before and he instantly made it better.

You both walked out of door and to the concession stand. The entire time, you guys stood there goofing off and talking while you waited in line. As you guys were occupied in a conversation, you noticed that you were getting a couple of suspicious looks since you were wearing Roman's jacket. However, no one dared to mess with you or give you slick comments either since they were shocked that you happened to be friends with him. Roman wouldn't hesitate to defend you if they did anyway in a heartbeat, but they knew better. You've seen Roman on multiple occasions stick up for people who got picked on at school, and it made your heart beat even harder for him. If there was a way you could just tell him how you felt, you would, but there was just no way in hell that was possible.

"Thanks, Roman. Even though I really don't need all of these snacks-" You giggled softly, looking down at the bag of snacks he had gotten you. Even though you couldn't never complain about snacks.

"Shh." He joked, cutting you off and took the opportunity to sneak cotton candy in your mouth so you'd stop talking, making you laugh. Roman smirked, taking his thumb and wiped off your bottom lip a little bit.

A frog got caught in your throat again as he flirtatiously wiped your lip. You both gazed into each other's eyes for what it seemed like forever until you both heard the movie start. You cleared your throat, and from behind him you saw Galina, Naomi and the Usos stare at you while they were still at the car. The Usos looked at each other with dumbfounded look on their face, like they wanted to laugh but they knew Galina would kill them. Naomi softly smiled at the two of you, while Galina had the most pissed off look on her face.

"Hey..I'll see you at school?" You say to him, with a soft smile on your face but not too noticeable since you knew Galina was staring at you.

Roman simply nodded, returning the smile and just stared at you in awe quietly. You said your goodbyes before you went back to your friend's car.

"Damn, Y/N. I just said popcorn not the whole concession stand." She says, looking at me weirdly. Then she just blankly stared at you for a minute before her eyes widen, realizing what you had on.

"Bitch, is that Roman's Jacket?" She squealed, and you hushed her real quick before she got excited.

"I'll explain later, okay?"

Your friend alternated looks between you and the movie, giving you the side eye as she took the popcorn out of your lap, "This conversation isn't over."

TAGS; @gold--gucciempress @wwzentertainment @flawlessglamazon @nicolewoo @romanreignshairdresser @sassymox @pennysky @lemonjvicey @thandiwethagirl @haharollins @rollinshield3 @sheerbeautyreigns @zaddyreigns @brookethegamer @alination @vir-tual @reigns-5sos @wickedsunfire

[screamxqueenx94]

Let's Rebel (Part 8)

A/N:Another installment of my series. I may or not be wrapping it all up soon, but we'll see. If you'd like to be tagged and officially start my tag list, let me know 💕💕💕

Warnings: fighting, some swearing

Y/N/N= your nickname, Y/N= your name

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It has been over a week and you've been avoiding Reggie like the plague. He's even texted you nonstop to the point that you blocked his number. But, after your "break up", it made you look back on some things. One of those things was how you treated Archie when he tried doing something nice for your family and you just went complete ape shit on him. You seen him at his locker, still peaking glances at you, still obviously feeling sad about the whole situation.

You decide to swallow your pride and approach him. He looks at you, surprise covering his whole face as you stood in front of him. What you were about to do was long overdue, but he deserved it.

"I'm sorry..." You tell him. "I'm sorry that I flipped out like a psycho when all you were trying to do was help me and my family..." You continued.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your beat up converse sneakers as Archie watched you with understanding.

"I understand if you don't accept my apology, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. I just want you to know that I truly am sorry that I'm such a horrible friend." You look back up at him and he just wraps you in a warm embrace.

"Don't you apologize. You've been through a lot in recent months." He says understandingly as he squeezes you tighter. You hug him back, but you still can't help but feel shitty on how you treated him. You let go and walk down the hallway to the student lounge together.

"It doesn't really matter what I was feeling Arch, I was still a bitch and you didn't deserve that." You tell him, filled with guilt as you tuck some of your bright blue hair behind your ear that was now fading into a greenish color.

"Well, apology accepted because you do deserve it." He replies back, smiling back at you, he nudges you playfully with his elbow, making you smile a bit.

You walk into the student lounge, you see all your old friends, smiling at the sight of you and Archie being friends again.

"Aww, yay! You guys finally made up!" Veronica cheered, making everyone else cheer and laugh. All you can do is laugh and just plop down in the arm chair facing the couches.

"So I take it we're all friends again?" Kevin asked nervously.

"I wouldn't have it any other way... I really missed you guys." You answer back. Everyone just awes and pile up for one big group hug, dog pile style, knowing you secretly love that despite saying how much you say you hate it.

They get up laughing by the look of cringe on your face. Before anyone can say anything else, Reggie walks in as you happened to have glanced over at the doorway. You quickly look back and put your hand up, as if it's some type of invisibility cloak, but let's face it. With hair that bright, who wouldn't notice? He walks towards you, but you quickly jump up and grab your bag.

"Uh-- I forgot I had to go see Weatherbee... I-- I'll catch up with you guys later." You tell your friends quickly as you leave out the other door, practically running, trying to avoid Reggie once more.

As you run out to the hallway, you bump into someone, knocking you on your butt, making you drop all your stuff out of your bag. You scramble to pick it all up, when you see a pair of large hands helping you. As you look further up to see who it is, you notice the leather jacket, then the familiar neck tattoo, then you come face to face with Sweet Pea, the boy you've been in contact with for the past week.

"S--sorry. I should really watch where I'm going.." You quickly apologize as you take the books from his hands and stuff them in you bag.

"Hey, it's my fault, I wasn't paying attention. Although you were coming in kinda hot.." He replies with his signature smirk.

"You runnin' from somethin'?" He asks, as you both stand up straight.

You look back nevously, and put you bag over your shoulder, then quickly turn back to him. "More like someone..." You reply.

Your hands and body shaking from nerves, but to Sweet Pea, it appeared to be fear.

"Who?" He asks concerningly.

Before you can answer, a voice you recognize calls for you, making you nearly jump out of your skin. It was Reggie, and he didn't look happy.

"Y/N! I've been trying to get ahold of you. You blocked my number, Instagram and Facebook. I wanna talk to you. I need to explain--" you cut him off before he can finish.

"Look, I dont care what you're explanation is... I just want you to get the hint. I'm done with you and I just want you to leave me alone." You tell him. As you're about to walk away, he grabs your wrists, a little tighter than you're comfortable with. Making you wince.

Sweet Pea notices and pushes Reggie back.

"She said she doesn't wanna talk to you, now back off, Mantle." He barks, as he remains standing in front of you, acting as a shield.

"Mind your business, Sweet Pea. This is between me and Y/N." Reggie shoots back defensively.

"You made it my business when you continued to harass her when she told you to leave her alone." Sweet Pea steps closer to Reggie, staring him down. People start to stare at what is a possible fight about to ensue.

"This is the last time I'm gonna say it: Back. Off. Serpent." Reggie's voice gets louder with each word, then pushes Sweet Pea, who only moves a step back. Your friends come out of the lounge to witness what's going on. Kevin grabs his phone and films what he thinks is going to be a fight thats YouTube worthy.

Reggie steps closer, getting in Sweet Pea's face, but Sweets refuses to back down.

"I don't know what happened between you and Y/N/N, but all I know is that if you continue to harass her, I'm gonna be forced to kick your ass... and I'm gonna really fuckin' enjoy it too." He smirks as Reggie gets angier.

Finally, Reggie grabs Sweet Pea by his jacket and slams him against some lockers, but Sweets isn't phased for a second. He punches Reggie, knocking him to the ground. But Reggie is quick back up on his feet and tackles Sweet Pea into the lockers again, this time picking him up and slamming him on the ground.

As the boys continue to fight, you scream at Reggie to stop and then go over and start hitting him, which prompts Archie to pull you back, but you kick and scream for him to let you go. Suddenly, Jughead and Fangs come and pull Reggie off Sweet Pea. As they help Sweet Pea up, Moose and another Bulldog hold Reggie back so he didn't attack him again.

Archie let you go and you run over to Sweet Pea. You take his face in your hands and look at his face to make sure he's okay. Sweets reassures you he's fine while Reggie continues to yell as Moose and the other Bulldog tell him to just walk away.

"Don't let me catch on my turf Serpent!" He shouts as Sweet Pea chuckles and gives him the middle finger. Just then, Principal Weatherbee comes out and calls you, Reggie and Sweet Pea into his office.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were the last in Westherbee's office and the last to leave. You, Reggie and Sweet Pea were all suspended until there was proof that Sweet Pea didn't and you didn't start the fight, which you thought was complete and utter bullshit considering there was at least 50 witnesses and multiple people recording the entire thing.

When you leave Westherbee's office, Sweets was waiting for you.

"Hey. You okay?" He asks you, putting his arm around you as you both walk out of the building. You let out a defeated sigh.

"Yeah.... Just irritated by this whole situation." You looked away as you spoke, but then looked at him and half smiled. "Thanks for standing up for me, even though you didn't have to..." You continue as you half smile.

"Mantle's an asshole anyways. It was eventually gonna happen. Rather have it be to defend a cute girl like yourself." He replies as he holds the doors open for you, making you blush at his words.

He stops you at the bottom of the steps, and faces you. "You sure you're okay?" He asks, pushing some of your hair out of your face. You blush a little more, making Sweet Pea have his signature smirk again.

"Yeah... Reggie just scared me a bit is all..." you say as you put your hands in your jean jacket and start walking to your car with Sweet Pea walking right next to you.

"Yeah, what's up with that? I thought you guys were like... a thing or something?" He asks.

You explain to him what happened that day at the lake. How his mother had spoken to you and the things she said and how all he could do was just look down and take it. After how he was there for you during the toughest time in your life, but couldn't stand up for you felt so insulting and it wasn't okay.

"...I don't really care that she called me a slut, I mean every girl unfortunately has heard it at least once before.... but it's the fact that he didn't stick up for me... ya know?" You continue as you reach your car and get your keys out of your pocket.

"I get it. When you're with someone, no matter what the situation is, they should always have your back. No matter how scared they are of whoever is giving you shit..." he replies with an understanding half smile. You smile back and you're just about to say something when your phone goes off. It was a text from your mom. The school called her and she's pissed.

"Sorry, it's my mom..." you tell Sweets as you unlock your phone. He just waves his hand and shakes his head to show he's not offended by the fact that you had your phone out while talking to him.

You sigh deeply and out your phone in the back pocket of your ripped jeans. This was the last thing you needed. You and Sweet Pea didn't start the fight. That one was on Reggie, but your mom was right in a way. You'd never fight anyone in school, you'd save it for your front yard or the other person's yard. You felt defeated, and of course Sweet Pea seen it written all over your face.

"I take it the school called your mom?" He asks.

"Yeah.... and as usual, she believes that I actually started it." You answer back sadly. There were times where your mom could be your best friend, but mostly she just didn't ever believe you about anything or took advantage of your love for your dad and little brothers and used it against you.

"Y'know, if it had been my dad they contacted instead of my mom, he would've came down and got in Westherbee's face because he knows if never start a fight in school. Didn't matter if he was still in the hospital or not, he always has my back." You tell Sweet Pea with a slight agitation in your voice as you lol down at the pavement under your dirty converse.

He just looks down at you and pushes your hair out of your face and behind your ear again, making you look up at his smiling face.

"You sound like you need to let off some steam." He remarks as rests his arm up on your open car door.

You scoff. "That's an understatement..."

He closes your car door and takes your hand and starts leading towards his bike.

"What are you doing?" You ask while chuckling.

"Taking you to rebel a bit." He stops and turns around to face while still holding your hand.

"What are some things that you do that pissed your mom off?" He asks you with a mischievous grin on his perfectly adorable face.

"Well despite already having 7 tattoos, she hates that I have them. She hates that I color my hair unnatural colors and have a nose ring. So basically just being myself..." You answer back. His grin gets even bigger as he goes back to leading you to his bike.

"Well then, let's go do that."

"Do what?" You ask nervously.

"Let's go get you another tattoo. One that will really piss her off!" He chuckles, getting on his bike and handing you a helmet.

[imaginedanganronpa]

Mondo,Ouma and Sayaka with an S/O who cries all the time and have -3662 self esteem, and like she is in a art school but she thinks her art is bad and she can't do anything, so she is stressed out about school, she feels as if she's growing distant with her friends,she feels worthless,she thinks she wants to die all the time, etc basically her life is going shit lol

Hey, I hope you’re okay! If you’re going through something right now then please hold on. You are loved, Anon, I promise. But I hope you like it!

Mondo Oowada, Ouma Kokichi, and Sayaka Maizono with An Artistic S/O Who Is Going Through a Rough Patch!

Mondo Oowada

Mondo acts like he’s a tough guy, rough around the edges,but in reality he’s a big softie – especially when it comes to his significantother.

He always blames himself when you’re going through a rough patch because henever thinks he does enough for you. He does his best though and is incrediblyloving and understanding.

Mondo will be your shoulder to cry on and love you unconditionally. In hiseyes, you are perfect, but you just don’t see it that way. You feel worthless,untalented, and you’ve been stressed out over school lately.

Art was your escape from reality and Mondo supported you with your talent; healways made jokes about being your model if you ever needed to draw a nudeportrait. 

But lately, you haven’t been as happy with your art. On top of that, you’vebeen growing distant from your friends and loved ones, which includes Mondo.

He took it as just needing space at first but he quickly realized that it wasmuch deeper than that. 

Despite his edgy, tough-as-stone exterior, he really cared for you. Mondo feelshurt when the people he cares about push him away but he mustered up the courageto final confront you about what’s been going on lately.

He knocks on the door – you had locked yourself in your bedroom all day. Hecould hear muffled sobs coming from inside. “(Y/N)… open up, please. It’s me.”

You refuse, not wanting him to see you like this. But if there’s one outstandingcharacteristic about Mondo, it’s that he is extremely persistent. When he wantssomething, he will stop at nothing to achieve it.

“Open up or I’ll knock the door down, (Y/N). I’m coming in no matter what.” Itmay sound like a threat but it comes from a good place; he is growingincreasingly concerned and resorted to desperate measures to get you to listento him.

As he’s rearing to ram the door, positioning his shoulder into place, youdrag yourself out of the bed and unlock it quietly. You can’t stand to look athim and instead stare at the floor.

He can tell immediately that your demeanor has changed. You aren’t as peppy asusual and that’s something that worried him.

Mondo extends his arms and brings you into a loving embrace, pulling you intohis big chest and strong arms. It’s a gentle hold, he doesn’t squeeze you.Instead he simply kisses your forehead and waits for you to say anything.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can squeak out. Tears are flowing from your eyes just as they had been all day.

Before he can question it, you continue. “I feel so worthless lately, not evenart can help me right now. I feel like I’m losing everyone and my self-esteem is so shitty right now.”

He guides you to sit down and stares into your eyes intimately. It hurts hisheart to hear you say those things because they were completely untrue. “(Y/N)…why do you feel like that?”

“My life is going to shit.” 

He sighs and rests your head on his shoulder. “No matter what, you’ll neverlose me. I love you.” He spends the night holding you as you cry into his chest. He explains that he is going nowhere and that you’re a fantastic person. 

From then on out, Mondo stops at nothing to lift you back up. He works with you on your self-esteem and slowly gets you to try art once again. He supports you throughout the process and devotes all of his time and attention to you.

All he wants to do is see you get better. You spend most of the time crying and always go to him for affection; every time you need to cry, he holds you until you stop or until you fall asleep.

Mondo gives you massages whenever you are feeling stressed and leaves notes of encouragement for you to feel better. Whenever you’re apart, he’s texting you and making sure you’re okay. If he needs to, he calls or FaceTimes you regardless of where he is or what he’s doing.

And to work off some steam, he’ll take you on a beautiful scenic drive on the back of his motorcycle at your command, any time you need it. 

No matter how distant you feel, or how stressed and depressed you are, Mondo is right there by your side. He will do whatever it takes to make you feel loved and adored and he is a big help in the recovery process.

Ouma Kokichi

He isn’t the most understanding partner. Though he tries, heusually copes with humor and sarcasm and that translates into the way he cheerspeople up as well.

Ouma has had low-points but it’s easy for him to bring himself back up… you,not so much. He’s also never really had self-esteem issues like you have, or atleast not to the same extent.

Whenever you go through a wave of frustration and sadness, he panics and neverreally knows what to do. He would snap his fingers and change it if he could. But he gets flustered easily and sometimes that turns into self-doubt on his own part. He didn’t know what to do to make you feel better.

Ouma loved your art. He supported your schooling and talent completely, alwayscomplimenting it and fawning over it, even when you think it’s awful.

A lot if that was over-exaggeration as well. “Oh, my God! This is the most amaziiing art I’ve ever seen! Picasso… da Vinci, watch out!”

Usually, whenever you cry he is able to cheer you up but lately he just hasn’t beenable to do that. Ouma will never miss an opportunity to flirt with you and showhis affection to try to lift your spirits but he’s seen how discouraged you’vebecome and he doesn’t know how to cope.

You had been getting flustered over a painting, trying over and over again toperfect it. Crumpled up paper and messy canvases were strewn across the room. You kept destroying your creations because none of them were ever good enough.

Ouma was sitting by you on the couch and watching you get increasingly defeatedand upset. He was tired of you bringing yourself down and talking badly aboutyour art, but you just felt like you couldn’t get it right. “Why am I even inthis stupid school if I’m so bad at art?”

Shoving your face in your hands, you break down and start to cry. Ouma standsand rushes to your side. “Well… I don’t think it’s bad. I think it’s perfect!”

His cheery attitude wasn’t working this time. “Want DICE to take out all theshitty professors and rude classmates you have?”

Normally, some kind of off-comment like that would make you laugh but you weren’thaving it. You lift your face from your hands and look at him, irritated. Your eyes werepuffy and cheeks red, and tears continued to stream down your face.

“I can’t do anything right! I’m worthless!” You exclaim and rip yourself fromhis embrace. School was stressing you out and all of your assignments weregetting harder, and you didn’t feel like you could live up to the expectationsplaced on you.

Ouma isn’t going to let you get away with that. He stands and chases after youas you storm off, catching himself in the doorway as you try slamming it behindyou. You felt like you were growing distant from everyone including Ouma and didn’twant him around right now.

Obviously he doesn’t feel the same way. He grasps your shoulders and turns youto face him, and then firmly shakes you, but just slightly. “(Y/N), listen tome! You are not worthless and I’m not going to let you say that about yourself!”

Still, you felt like you didn’t deserve him, your self-esteem was reallygetting under your skin this time. At this point, the tears were unstoppableand you sobbed loudly, not able to form a coherent sentence.

Without warning, he slams his lips into yours and passionately kisses you to getyou to stop crying.

“What do I have to do to help?” His voice is panicky and raised, his tone was higher than usual. You blink, forcing back tears and unable to come up with a response.

Ouma works towards helping you. He still uses humor but his softer side comes out. He’s always asking you how he can help and what you want him to do for you.

He never leaves your side. He even makes art with you to make you feel better. He also keeps you busy so you don’t have time to sit around and stress about life or feel sad, so he takes you places and keeps you on your toes.

Every time you say you want to die, Ouma retaliates with self-deprecating humor. But deep down, he wants to support you so that you don’t feel like that. He does his best but doesn’t have a lot of experience with helping others in that way.

His big heart and clear effort is enough though and you get better as each day goes by.

Sayaka Maizono

Sayaka has never had to worry about self-esteemor felt frustration on the same level as you. She’s had a pretty blessed life.

And she adored your art, she loved watching you work. For such a long time, artwas your happy place and your passion. But why have you felt so disconnectedlately? You’ve felt so unhappy with everything you’ve produced recently and can’tseem to shake the nagging voice in the back of your head.

Currently, you’ve been crying nonstop. It’s been like this for quite some timenow and Sayaka has tried snapping you out of it. She is a naturallycompassionate and loving person and those feelings are only amplified with herpartner.

She is doing her best to make you feel better. Sayaka goes into mom-mode,taking care of you – cooking for you, never leaving your side, she’sessentially been bathing and changing you since you’ve been too sad to doanything lately.

It hurts her but all she can do is be there for you. Every time you muttersomething about wanting to die, she gets really angry and raises her voice. “Neverdo something stupid like that, (Y/N)! I need you here.”

You cry almost all the time and she always wipes your tears. Sayaka tries tocoax you into making art, insisting that it will make you feel better, but yourefuse. Art has only been stressing you out lately and making everything worse.

Usually, you could go to her in times of need – she was a wonderful listenerand never judged you, but you just simply felt like you couldn’t right now. Youwere pushing everyone out of your life, feeling like you’ve already growndistant from your friends and now you were doing the same to your girlfriend.

Still, Sayaka did her best to lift your self-esteem. She showers you withcompliments and always reminds you of how much she loves you but she can onlydo so much.

She was holding you as you cried into the pillow, spooning you and strokingyour hair. She let out a few silent tears of her own but never in front of you. “I feel so useless, I’m over it,” you sigh and her heart sinks.

Nuzzling her face into your hair, she sits you up and rubs her thumb againstyour cheek. “You know I love you, right?”

“I don’t know why,” you sigh and look at the ground. Your face was raw from allthe tears and constant wiping of your sleeve. “I’m worthless, and I don’tdeserve you.”

She tries to not get upset when you say things of that nature but she cannothold herself back. “That is so not true, (Y/N)! You are the most amazing personI’ve ever met.”

A part of you wanted to believe her but you just can’t. Life was getting the best of you and felt like it had been going against you lately. 

She rested her head on your shoulder and lifted your hand to hers, kissing the top. “I am not going anywhere. Even if you think you’re growing distant from everyone, I will always be here.” She squeezes your hand tightly and a small smile forms across your lips.

Sayaka will write songs for you and serenade you when you’re feeling down. They’re super cheesy and cliche, but that’s on purpose.

And at night when you’re getting ready to sleep, she trails kisses all the way down your body and back up, never missing an inch. She runs her hands along your skin and does her best to make you feel adored.

Sayaka will not go to sleep until you do. She waits until you’ve drifted off peacefully, and if you’re crying she strokes your hair and hums softly to lull you to sleep. She’ll kiss the tears under your eyes and wakes up early, long before you do, to bring you breakfast in bed.

And if you really can’t sleep, she wil massage you until you do in order to relieve stress.

It doesn’t matter if she loses sleep, she just wants to do the most for you. She goes out of her way to try to make you feel better.

She sends you long texts about how much she loves you and keeps you busy all the time. A day doesn’t go by where she doesn’t support you in your time of need.

Slowly, she reintroduces art into your life. She takes part and draws messy little portraits for you, and they are a lot worse than your masterpieces but she doesn’t care. She just wants to feel like she’s helping and will even hang up your art on the fridge to show you how much she loves it.

And no matter what, Sayaka is your personal little cheerleader. She always compliments you and cheers you on in everything you do to boost your confidence and self-esteem. The last thing she wants is for you to be depressed and defeated, so she tries to change that in any way that she can.

- Mod Rantaro

[ilovedangos]

If CLANNAD was Eroge

Fuckboy Tomoya is your average horny teenager with daddy issues who fucks 24/7. He along with his best bud Sunohara are the school’s biggest douchebags. They even get paid to be douches to numerous guys and girls. But that changes when he meets the hated school hoe Furukawa Nagisa.

I hate this town, all people care about is sex, money, or drugs. No one cares about anything else.

“Anpan!”

A girl I don’t remember seeing before was shouting out loud in frustration.

“Fuck this hell! Do you like this school? Because I sure as fuck don’t at all! In fact, I fucking hate it so much, it’s no school, it’s fucking hell. There’s never anything new nor happy.”

“Just find it then,” I said.

The girl turned to me and looked at me with a seductive face. Fucking hell, I had enough with that bullshit, so I quickly stopped her before she tried to do anything.

“Come on! Let’s get going.”

“Yeah I know, asshole,” she replied annoyed after I rejected her advances.

“Let me off! I didn’t mean to play the CD, fuck, I’m sorry!!”

I heard a loud scream and lots of blood

“You met Furukawa? That dirty town hoe?!”

“Ugh, great, you’re also late too,” Fujibayashi gave me a dirty look. She then started throwing her tarot card deck at me and smirked.

“I’m just reading your fortune for tomorrow. Apparently, someone’s gonna be late again,” she said smugly.”

“What the hell?! You trying to pick a fight with me?” I shouted.

“Okazaki, did you just pick a fight with one of the Fujibayashi sisters?” exclaimed a group of classmates.

“Oh no we gotta keep it down or her sister will come runnin’ in!” the classmates said quickly after before keeping quiet.

“Hey Tomoya!” a loud voice shouted.

A book came flying to me as I dodged it, hitting the tree outside. Kyou entered and grabbed me by my tie.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, you sleaze!” Kyou yelled, “Loser!”

“Sis we weren’t actually going to fight or anything,” Ryou said calmly, “we we’re just going to get it on because the cards say he’s gonna meet up with me first thing in the morning.”

She then winked angering Kyou even more. Kyou then hit me and tugged my arm tightly.

“He’s mine, you stupid tramp!” Kyou yelled with rage.

“No I had him first, you slut!” Ryou pulled me against her.

The mean, bitchy twins Kyou and Ryou were fighting over me again like always. They tugged nonstop until the teacher came in and stopped the threesome. He then escorted Kyou back to her class.

"A ghost?" one laughed.

"Yeah," said the second guy. I heard it appears. The ghost of the girl that got in a car accident."

"I bet its something else," the third guy said in disbelief.

I passed the guys and abruptly stopped, looking down and seeing that dirty hoe from yesterday. She was alone with wine bottles and finishing her lunch in silence.

Before I walked away, she suddenly waved high at me so I went outside and approached her.

“The hell you doing all alone out here?”

She ignored me and kept eating her bread like a fucking pig.

“Hey!” I repeated myself.

“What?” she let out a sigh and loudly said, “Can I not eat? Geez.”

I groaned annoyed but I would feel the same way if I was interrupted like that.

I started eating as well munching big like hell.

As soon as both of us finished she started asking me, “Alright pimp, so how do you like this fucking school?”

“I hate it too,” I answered.

“I used to really, really love it,” she said, “I used to have friends and numerous boys to fuck, but now...”

“Why does everyone hate you?” I asked. This is the first time I actually started to talk to someone. This girl may be trashy and lack class but something about her drew me in.

She sighed, “Last year, I was suspended from school for a long period of time so I’m repeating.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I had a fight with my old friends and stole most of their boyfriends and numerous shit. And now I’m alone-shit! what the fuck? I just met you, why am I telling you all this!”

“Well we’re you in any clubs?” I asked.

“Yeah of course,” she responded, “but actually I have a weak body so I can’t be clubbing every night.”

“Then find a new gang instead of moping your ass alone down here!” I suggested.

“But-”

“Hey, look over there,” I pointed at some girls at the rooftop. “They’re smiling at us, you should smile and wave back, who knows, they could be your new fellow bitches.”

She reluctantly was about to smile and wave but the girls left giving her dirty looks.

“I guess they hate you that bad,” I sighed.

“I’m hated in class as well,” she said.

Suddenly, there was a strange loud noise.

“What the fuck?” she said.

We both ran out to the soccer field together where two bikers were riding on their motorcycles and stirring up the dirt.

"Wow! So cool! They're wheeling over," Sunohara called out among the spectators.

"Sunohara, what's going on?" I asked him, praying my idiot friend could give me some decent info.

"I think they're here for a fight," he chuckled. The silver-haired girl looked alarmed. I should really learn her name soon.

Suddenly, some girls started screaming really loud. I turned to see what was happening. A girl with silver hair with long locks that stuck out a bit spiky in places starting walking out onto the field.

"Is she going to give them a lecture?" I asked aloud.

“What?” asked Nagisa.

“This is, after all, the best school in the city,” I explained, “so there are guys who dislike that idea.”

We all watched from afar as the spiky-haired girl yelled at the bikers. The bikers started to look pissed.

I stepped forward a bit. "You're going to help?" asked Sunohara in surprise.

"I can't just sit and watch,” I said concerned.

"You don't have to worry about Sakagami," a girl said to me.

"Sakagami?" That girl on the field?

"You don't know her?" another underclassman asked. "She transferred her as a junior starting this spring. Sakagami Tomoyo!"

"She's amazing," a short-haired girl chimed in. "She has incredible physical strength. If you go out, you might just get in her way."

I turned to face her. The biker's were steering toward her now. "But..."

"I don't want to cause an unnecessary disturbance," Sakagami said to the biker's, looking cool and collected. How could she act so calm when those guys are about to beat her up? "Get lost before you get hurt," she warned them. "If you do, I'll let all of you go."

The biker's started sweating a bt, debating what they should do. Sakagami glared, "You don't want to deliberately ask for pain, do you?"

"Don't screw with us!" the leader with long, swirled black hair screamed at her. He revved up his bike and started to strike.

We all watched in horror as the bikers started circling her with their bikes. Neither of them looked even slightly concerned for their safety.

Sakagami sighed, and leapt up into the air, smashing her foot right into the leader's face and knocking him cleanly off of his bike.

One of the biker's came at her with a dirty move, have a weapon in his hand, some sort of large ball. Sakagami did a combo, kicking him in the stomach several times and sending him flying across the field, dirt smearing his face. All the guys screamed in pain as Sakagami finished them off.

"So cool!" the girls beside me screamed. The Furukawa chick and I just stared in awe.

"What is she?" gasped Sunohara.

Now that that whole ordeal was over, Furukawa and I sat back down together at the spot where we'd eaten lunch.

"So she's a transfer student,"said the girl, looking deep in thought.

"She in a similar position to you, yet she's so fucking cool," I replied. If she could make friends, this girl could too. "So everything depends on the individual."

"Maybe you are right," sighed the girl, looking kind of sad again.

[rogue-barnes-16]

CAREFUL, SWEETHEART (Part XI/?)

Summary: sadness and alcohol can lead us to make a mess of a situation, and a mess can lead us to the biggest mistakes, but can the biggest mistakes lead to something else?

Pairing: Tony Stark x enhanced young!Reader

Genre: angst-fluff (with a bit of fun)

Tags:

Careful, sweetheart:

@tone-stark @mugglebucky @sofreakinmanyfandoms @cryforfandoms @lilulo-12 @rebeccaitsnotwhatyouthink @vxidnik @edwisenpai

Permanent taglist:

@notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace

Warnings: language, drinking, super super light (and bad written smut), FEELS

A/N: I'm updating at 4:30 am (yayy) so be ready for the typos, sweethearts. Enjoy this part, even though it's really fucked up.

Careful, sweetheart masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

Please not again.

Not with Tony.

Wait... Maybe it wasn't Tony.

Oh my God, who was it?

The night before

"Jeez" I giggled, holding onto Rhodey's shoulder. Wanda, Steve, Clint and Maria were walking with us towards our 'party zone', Where Nat, Thor, Bucky, Bruce and Sam were already sat.

Our 'party zone' was an area with cozy couches, situated on a small platform over the the party room.

Some of us didn't enjoy Tony's parties that much, some others enjoyed it, but just for a couple of hours. And then Barnes joined the Avengers, and he didn't like the parties at all so we inaugurated the party zone.

"Okay girl, come here" I held Maria's hand and guided her to the nearest couch, where we sat. I was tipsy, but Maria was officially drunk. She would probably fall asleep soon.

"So where's Tony's girl?" Clint asked, sitting on the floor, right besides me. He looked at me pouting and I rolled my eyes, leaning on him and massaging his scalp.

"Yeah, I thought we were gonna meet her?" I looked around, waiting for someone to reply, but none did. I turned around to Rhodey "you know her right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't see her in the party yet" he answered, taking a sip of his beer. "maybe we should ask Tony" everyone looked in my direction, and at first I didn't know why.

Then I realized they were waiting for me to go down and look for Tony "Okay guys, be right back" I moved Maria slightly for her to rest her head against Wanda, and I got up, earning a complain from Clint.

I walked downstairs and looked for Tony for a good ten minutes, but it was impossible to find someone in that crowded room. Luckily, one of the war veterans had seen him near the small minibar in the corner of the room.

"Hey" I sat over the minibar counter and smiled at him, but he had his gaze lost and his eyes puffy. "you okay?"

He was nursing a now empty rum glass. He didn't answer immediately, and when he did answer , it didn't even make sense, since he wasn't looking at me. "you look amazing, sweetheart"

I frowned, unconsciously looking at my dress before letting me eyes go back to him. "thanks?" he poured more rum into the glass. "sooo... Where's Pepper? We're excited to meet her"

He shrugged, drinking the whole glass with a gulp. "she didn't come." Tony poured more alcohol before keep talking. "she broke up with me"

"Fuck" I muttered, a bit shocked. Tony had been talking about Pepper nonstop for the last three weeks.

"Yeah, fuck" he let out a humorless laugh before drinking the glass at once, again. "I feel like a fucked up little shit who can't be loved."

"what the hell, Tony?" another humorless laugh, another glass of rum. "Okay, that's enough" I grabbed the glass and the half empty bottle and put them away from him.

"give it back, Y/n" I scoffed and he tried to reach them, just for me to stop him. "just let me get drunk, goddammit!"

I climbed off and he stepped back. "You're already drunk" he sighed, sitting back on the stool, his forehead resting against the bar. "listen, what you said it's not true, and you know that." I rubbed his back reassuringly. "You're loveable, Tony"

He sat upright and looked into my eyes, and I could see the desperation in his "Then why don't you love me?"

His voice cracked.

My heart did too.

"God, Tony..." I muttered, pulling him closer to me, letting his forehead fall against my chest, while my chin rested on top of him. My hands caressed his scalp, and soon I felt his thumbs rubbing small circles on my waist. "let's take you to your room, okay?"

I managed to take him to his room, and I texted Bruce, telling him what had happened. I was going to leave, but Tony tugged my hand, bringing my close. "stay please..." I chewed my lip, staring at his eyes. "Y/n, please"

"This is not a good idea" it wasn't a good idea, but that didn't stop me from staying. "we're going to regret this" we were going to, but that didn't stop him from kissing my lips softly. I pulled away and he looked at me expectantly "we shouldn't-"

"what else is left to fuck up, sweetheart?" he asked hopelessly. "this can't get worse, and we can't go back to what we were" he rested his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. "there's nothing else to lose"

I cupped both of his cheeks. He was right in everything he had said, so, why would we resist it anymore?

Before I realized it, I was kissing him hungrily and pushing him to the bed. We both fell onto it, taking off our clothes as fast as our minds, fogged by the alcohol, allowed us.

Soon we were both naked on his bed, panting and moaning between sloppy kisses and heavy breaths.

"Y/n..." I bit my lower lip harshly, whimpering each time he said my name. "Y/n" I dig my nails on his biceps, making him grunt.

He started to thrust faster into me, and we both lost it. "Tony!" I started to tremble and he quickly shifted his position, pulling me with him, so now I was sitting on his lap.

"I love you" I'm sure he didn't even realize what he was saying, but neither of us cared. I just nodded vehemently. "I love you- Y/n I love you"

I scratched his chest and he hissed. "I love you too... I love you so much" he started to kiss me clumsily as we both came down from our highs.

We collapsed in the bed, and I saw tears streaming down Tony's cheeks, his eyes trained in the ceiling. "but I'm serious, I truly love you" a choked sob came out of him.

I sat up on him, and I leaned on, resting my head on the crook of his shoulder "I love you, Tony." he hugged me tightly, and made me lay down besides him.

Fuck.

It was Tony.

It was him.

His lips brushed slightly over my back and I jolted, jumping out of the bed. I started to get dressed instantly. "Tony!" I yelled, making him open his eyes.

He sat up, not comprehending what had happened. He probably had a bad mix between tiredness and hangover. And then it clicked. "gosh, we fucked again." he whispered, his eyes now wide open.

"Tony" I put on my dress "we did something worse."