#does this need a trigger warning? LMK

[firstkhao]

guys this is going to sound really heavy? insane? but. first of all going on a hiatus. i’ll put the rest in the tags because idk. it feels really weird doing this but also unfortunately it is very very necessary at this point.

[hades-in-bloom]

The way you write Vergil is just gorgeous. Would you consider writing a scenario of him protecting his S/O from unwanted flirtatious remarks from a stranger?

Anon, thank you so much for your kind words 💔

I hope that below does your praise justice as well as follows your request closely enough! Lmk in comments/messages xoxo

The Beat

Vergil Sparda x Reader

summary: attempted visit to a music concert ended up not being to his liking for a variety of reasons. (But the bragging rights for the attempt itself are no joke in the Sparda household, so congrats!)

warnings & contents: fluff with a bit devil-triggered Vergil; assumed situational over-sensitivity to sensory stimuli on Vergil’s end (could also be PTSD); mentions of harassment and drugs; Vergil must be vergiling; could be age gap, could be none; public PDA (happy noises); the reader could be any gender; no mentions of y/n

a/n: this initially had much more exposition, but I trimmed it down to focus on the core story, i.e. anon’s request. Might write smth with the similar theme for Lady In Red/Nero’s mother at some point. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: metallica — fuel and des rocs — used to the darkness

***

The show was about to begin.

For you, a single glance was enough to read him like an open book.

“Vergil,” a faint, amused smile touched your lips. “Relax. You’re going to love it.”

Skepticism was etched across his face. How could you be so sure? He hated crowds and couldn’t understand the urge to frantically shake your limbs among sweat-drenched bodies.

The first beat hit him like a shockwave. Its intensity was deafening, stirring something deep within him. While he could sense the unexpected, obnoxious potential of it, right now the demon inside him roared. Feeling his control slip for the first time in a while, Vergil needed a distraction to maintain his sanity.

His gaze wandered before settling on you—the distraction he craved. Standing in front of him, you were clearly enjoying yourself, happily singing along and rhythmically shaking your head. You didn’t just like this; you loved it—exactly what you wished on himself; the sense of freedom it gave you. He was mesmerized by the sight of you, undeterred even by the buffoonery surrounding them.

He had always been amazed at how easily humans tossed around the concept of “love.” To the point that the word risked losing its meaning. Dante had managed to adopt their habits in this regard as well, loving his strawberry sundae or pizza. To Vergil, it was laughable—and yet it felt a bit endearing, too. Was he becoming a fool like the rest of them?

No matter.

His hands settled on your waist as his lips now hovered above your ear. You instinctively stepped back, right into his embrace. So trusting and vulnerable. Careless, even. His heartbeat mingled with the arhythmic roars of the bass guitar. The unbearable noise of the humans surrounding them dulled his senses, leaving him less aware. Not only deafened, but blinded, too. Feeling powerless among those for whom the name of Sparda meant nothing. Unacceptable.

“I need to step out,” he muttered over your ear. He might’ve learned to like it—but not today.

“What?” You genuinely couldn’t hear a thing above the crowd’s shouting.

“I need to go,” he repeated firmly, this time louder, too. Concern and confusion knitted your brows as you turned in his arms to face him.

You were disappointed. Not necessarily because of him, but because of the appeared outcome. You would deny it, no doubt. But he could see it nonetheless.

“Is it that bad?” You knew it was a poor place for a conversation, but what choice did you have?

“Yes,” he replied, opting for the most straightforward explanation. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but a lengthier response could lead to a messy back-and-forth, given the current chaos. It could’ve made the situation even worse.

You didn’t want to leave yet. He could see it, too. But the longer he stayed, the greater were the chances of revealing the secret of his devil trigger to the unsuspecting crowd.

“You can stay,” he suggested. He didn’t like the idea of it, but he didn’t want to be the reason you had a ruined evening. “I’ll meet you outside.”

You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping your lips. “No,” you reassured him. “I’ll go, too.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Too selfless.

The guy beside you must have thought the same thing.

“Hey, sweetheart! If you need some company, I could be it.” The stranger seemed proud of himself for all the wrong reasons. Vergil’s eyes narrowed as he studied both him and you for a moment—you clearly didn’t appreciate the unwanted attention, and neither did the half-demon.

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, trying to brush off the talkative guy. Maybe he was a bit drugged, too. Nothing serious, just annoying.

Your response was too polite—too kind for Vergil’s taste. You sensed it, almost reading his thoughts, and rested your hand soothingly on his forearm. You caught a flicker of teal in his eyes; he needed to calm himself down.

The stranger grinned. He wasn’t much of a villain, you thought—just overly eager, his cockiness fueled by alcohol and cheap adrenaline.

“Oh, don’t lie to yourself, love. Your guy seems like a snooze fest! You’d be better off with me!”

You felt your irritation growing.

The stranger felt momentarily bold enough to reach for your shoulder, but he was no match for Vergil’s supernatural speed. In an instant, the half-demon blocked his hand, denying the unwanted grab before you even realised it was happening.

“You weren’t given a permission for it.” Vergil’s voice remained calm, somehow cutting through the noise with astonishing clarity. What a pity he couldn’t resolve this situation with a swift slash of Yamato’s blade. After all, you had asked him to stay civil earlier.

His blue-grey eyes now emanated that soft teal glow you caught the glimpse of earlier. Now you were alarmed. You began to understand the full meaning of Vergil’s desire to leave this place.

“Vergil!” Your mildly raised voice was enough to snap him out of it. He growled reluctantly, burying the demon deeper within him, his irises returning to their usual blue-grey hue.

“Freak!” With that, the stranger vanished, likely convinced he was hallucinating.

At least the nuisance had been dealt with.

You had never seen him lose control before, and while your heart ached with gratitude for his protectiveness, you knew that jealousy, in its ugliest sense at least, wasn’t the only reason for his outburst.

In the meantime, the half-demon’s gaze suddenly turned distant as he inadvertently and unwillingly slipped into the depths of his painful past. You hesitated, puzzled by his reaction.

“Vergil,” you called to him gently after a bit, thinking the moment might be right. Might be gentle. He was brought back from his reverie, and his eyes flickered back to meet yours. The merciless noise, the beat flooded his senses once more.

“Is everything alright?” You were too gentle.

“Yes,” he murmured, his voice tinged with hesitation. Then, with unexpected softness, he admitted, anticipating your perceptiveness, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Not now. One day, he would be able to make this decision on his own—to share the story that occupied his disciplined, but anxious mind.

You nodded affirmatively without prying. You understood that this level of openness was difficult for him, and above all, you respected him and his boundaries. Although there were times when it felt like you were walking on eggshells around him, you knew it was inevitable because of his wounded trust with others. And it was worth it.

“Are you alright?” There was it again, and you smiled. Too caring for a demon.

“Yes,” you instantly got acutely aware of his warm breath against your face as he leaned closer, trying to ensure he could hear you over the music and shouting. “Thank you.” He hummed, satisfied with your answer. His lips thoughtfully touching your forehead before leaving your skin.

Your fingers brushed against his palm, weaving between his own and intertwining with them carefully. “Shall we?”

He did consider the familiar course of action—running, keeping as far away as possible from the burden of attachment, that you were dragging him into. You noticed a faint grimace on his face as he wrestled with himself, managing to push his habits aside. At the end, he didn’t pull away.

Quite the opposite—he pulled you closer, his lips meeting properly, locking with yours for a brief moment. He wasn’t a stranger, after all.

There was a certain level of freedom in sharing a moment like this in public. Wasn’t it what you wished for? He savored it, relishing the sound of your soft gasp. Then you leaned closer, your eyes fluttering shut as you accepted his gesture. Too trusting.

He stepped away sooner than you would have liked.

“We shall,” he cleared his throat, glancing to the side as he brought you along, away from this moaning and screeching hellscape, your hands connected.

[got-the-cheese-touch]

More Than a Name - chapter one

Harry Potter x Sirius Black's Daughter!Reader

slowburn harry potter x reader

summary: The father you never knew but always feel makes his presence known. (indirectly)

a/n: chapter one. AAAAH i'm nervous. it's not as long as i would've liked but i didn't wanna drag it out for too long. (please reblog and like and leave a little comment! they make my day) no use of y/n

trigger warnings: nothing really except maybe poor grammar. lmk if there is something I missed. (reader does use she/her pronouns)

ty to @thecutestgrotto for the dividers <3

The Hogwarts Express rolled down the tracks with a satisfying chug, a low hum filling the silence of the train compartment. Next to you lay Remus, sleeping under his trenchcoat. His peaceful form was in stark contrast to your own. You buzzed with excitement. Your third year at Hogwarts. Hopefully, it would be less eventful than the other years (mostly for Remus’s sake. You were sure that if he received another owl telling him that you fought the Dark Lord once more he’d get a heart attack). 

When you learned that Remus was going to be teaching Defense against the Dark Arts you were relieved. Nothing could hurt you when Moony was around, of that you were sure. If Voldemort even tried to touch you or Harry, Remus could stop him. Your Remus could do anything. 

“Seriously, how is he still asleep?” you thought as you watched his chest rise and fall peacefully. Although, you supposed it was good that he was getting some rest. Recently, he was on edge. He’d pace around, reading the newspaper and shaking his head. He closed the papers and tossed it into the fireplace before you could see what exactly was on the headline; only catching a glimpse of a crazed smile as the page burned down. You had asked what it was and he simply gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“Oh, it’s nothing, mate.” He’d say, giving you a smile that’s too tense to be real. He picked up other odd habits too- cracking his knuckles, smoking a bit more than usual. One morning, you came out of your room to find him asleep on a chair outside of your door. He slept there all night, keeping watch. 

What he was protecting you from- you had no idea. 

But the strangest behavior of all happened one morning when you two were out for a walk. Remus needed to pick up his Wolfsbane and was hesitant to leave you alone at home. He also insisted on holding your hand the entire walk there which you didn’t mind, of course, but his grip would tighten at any startling noise. As you walked past a cafe you smiled and pointed.

“Look, it’s a dog!” You smiled and laughed at the sight- the dog looked out of place in the cute cafe. Remus’s head immediately turned and he stepped in front of you, protective. Remus’s eyes searched frantically for the animal like it was about to pounce on the two of you. 

His shoulders visibly relaxed when he realized that you were pointing to a small fluffy dog resting inside its owner’s purse. He exhaled shakily and tugged you along, walking a bit quicker than before and muttering something under his breath.

You figured that Remus’s new job would be good for him. He’d be closer to you, he’d be closer to help for his lycanthropy, and he’d be away from whatever news headlines were troubling him so much. 

In your daydreams you almost missed the three familiar figures walking past your train compartment: Hermione, Harry, and Ron. You slide open the door, creeping out quietly so as to not wake Remus. A whole summer without seeing your friends was torture. Harry was your first friend at Hogwarts- you liked that he was just as new to everything as you; he liked that you had tons of stories about his parents. Hermione had intimidated you at first. With her quick wit and effortless smarts. Those feelings quickly dissipated after she stood up for you when a group of Ravenclaws stole one of your letters to home. Your cheeks burned when they mocked your letter to Remus but seeing their hair immediately grow down to their feet thanks to a hex from the young witch cheered you up. 

 Once you stepped into the train’s hall you called out to your friends with a smile.

“Hey guys,” You call out to them “I’ve got a compartment. Be quiet, though. My dad’s sleeping.” You smiled at the sight of their surprised faces. Hermione ran to you with an excited call of your name, crashing into you with a tight hug.

“Oh, I missed you this summer! I would’ve written so much more but I was just so busy reading. I’ve been trying to get ahead. I mean, with the schedule I have for this year I’m gonna be in two places at once.” You shook your head with a smile. Of course she was studying over the summer. She was the biggest overachiever you knew. 

You were pulled from your embrace with her when Ron bumped her out of the way.

“You’d think she’s been gone from war, Hermione. Can you not strangle her before we get the chance to say hello?” You smile and let out a laugh, amused at the bickering. You brought him in for a friendly hug and you patted his back. Ron was a good guy. You wouldn’t say he’s your best friend but the shared trauma of exploding monster chess pieces has a way of bringing people together. “I see you haven’t taken off this jacket of yours.” He says, tugging on the sleeve of your- well, Sirius’s- leather jacket.

“And I see you’ve gotten some more freckles.” You tease back with a smirk. He pushes you off with a groan and a poorly concealed smile. 

“Merlin, not even two minutes into the year and I’m sick of you.” He snickers and steps into the compartment, training behind Hermione. You finally turn your gaze to Harry and two things quickly come to mind. The first is that he’s gotten tall. The second is that you hadn’t even noticed how much you really missed him until this moment. 

He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, his wand tucked into his pocket. He wore the same wire framed glasses over the same pretty green eyes. 

“Okay, easy. It’s just Harry for Merlin’s sake. Not Gilderoy Lockhart.” You thought as you stepped up to him with a grin. He quickly pulled you into a hug and took a deep breath. 

Harry’s summer sucked (naturally). Staying with the Dursleys was torture. Not only did it mean that he was away from school. The months spent in that cupboard was a prison sentence. His warden? Vernon Dursley. 

That meant that he couldn’t take visits to see his friends, he couldn’t study for the upcoming year. He couldn’t even write letters either. 

But whatever troubles he had developed over the summer, he had quickly forgotten after seeing your smirk. 

“Missed you loads.” He says, his shoulders relaxing. You smiled. You didn’t need to say you missed him; you were sure he could tell. He had a weird way of reading your mind. You wondered if it was the same way with James and Sirius.

Harry was a friend that you could tell anything to. He’d been with you through thick and thin and you could say that he was, without a doubt, your best friend. He’s a partner in crime, a confidant, someone to lean on. 

It would be natural to wonder how you two could get along so well. It may seem shocking that the fact that your father is accused of brutally murdering his parents isn’t a setback in your relationship. Perhaps it would be an issue if Harry knew that unfortunate detail about your life’s history.

To save you from ridicule, Dumbledore and Remus both decided it would be best to enroll you in Hogwarts under Remus’s name. As far as anyone was concerned, you were a Lupin. You didn’t mind. It’s not like you knew your real dad. Remus was your father in every sense of the word other than blood. 

But Harry would probably mind. Did it make you a bad person not to tell him? Maybe.

But have you felt guilty about this every time he asks you to tell him some of Remus’s stories about The Marauders? Absolutely. 

You shove these thoughts to the back of your mind as you release him from the hug with a smile.

“Sap.” You say before climbing into the compartment. 

You slide in next to Remus who is still, somehow, sleeping over the noise of Hermionie and Ron’s arguing. You quiet them with a look and a nod towards Remus’s figure, covered in his coat. Hermione turns to you, her expression suddenly serious. 

“Have you been reading the papers?” She asks, her tone anxious. You shake your head. 

Remus had been hoarding the Daily Prophet for some reason. He hadn’t let you read the papers in ages. Another one of his odd habits recently. 

“I get them sent by owls. You ought to start staying up to date on this kind of thing. Especially considering the relevance it has.” Hermione huffs. She quickly pulls a folded up newspaper from her bag and holds it out to you. “We need to be concerned for Harry.”

You’re about to quip “When do we not?” until you flip over the pages to see the headline and your blood runs cold. 

His name. Your father’s name printed clearly on the front page. 

You stared down at his photo, the image moving as he snarled and thrashed at the camera. He looked angry and tired and sick and evil. His eyes were filled with intensity that made the hair on your arms stick up. 

It was like looking in a mirror. A sick and twisted mirror, sure, but still. The resemblance was uncanny. His eyes, his smile, his nose. Down to the sharpness of his canines. Thank Merlin that your friends were too occupied in the situation that they didn’t notice your state or your resemblance to the man. 

In your shock, you only catch the tail end of their conversation. 

“...The man’s a murderous, raving lunatic.” Ron deadpans. His sarcasm isn’t able to hide the pure worry he has for Harry. A strange part of you feels protective. He is your dad. You don’t feel the need to cut in with his defense: the fact that he hadn’t had a motivation or even a trial. Remus didn’t hate Sirius and neither did you. None of this would be helpful to point out. You look up from the photo at Harry. 

“It’ll be okay. Dumbledore won’t let anyone get to you, yeah?” You say, trying to be reassuring. You’re not sure if it’s for Harry or for yourself. Before anyone can cut in with their worries, the train screeches to a sudden halt. 

Rain pelts against the window as the Hogwarts Express jostles. You look at Remus who is miraculously still sleeping. 

“Why are we stopping?” You hear Hermione question. You shake your head, about to express your confusion before the lights of the train shut off. The newspaper in your lap is forgotten as you stand up to investigate. Before you can get to the door though, a lurch of the train sends you back to your seat. “Bloody hell” Ron gasps and you turn your head. The window has frosted up and you watch in confusion as the bottle of water on the floor freezes up. Your grip tightens on Sirius’s leather jacket, hugging the warm leather closer against you. 

A shadowy figure approaches from outside the compartment. It was ghostly and its presence filled you with dread. Suddenly you were four years old back in evil foster homes. You could only stare in fear and silence as it opened the door to your compartment. 

“Get Remus, Wake him up.” Your mind shouted as the creature stared at all of you. You felt like it saw right into your soul. You sat frozen.

The ghost looked towards Harry and you gasped as it drew close to him and inhaled deeply. Like he was sucking out Harry’s soul. 

When you finally found your voice, you turned to Remus’s sleeping figure helplessly and you shook him awake. 

“Dad, please wake up! Moony help!” You said to him as Harry slipped out of consciousness, his weight slipping onto you as the shadowy figure continued its assault. 

Remus quickly jolted awake at the sound of you and stood up with his wand. A burst of light filled the compartment, driving away the creature. Once it had fled, Harry slumped down. Remus sees the copy of the newspaper on the floor and he picks it up quickly, folding up Sirius’s angry stare and tucking it into his back pocket. Remus looked at you before he even noticed Harry’s state.

He starts rambling. His hands fly to the sides of your face, holding you worriedly. “Oh, mate, I’m sorry, are you okay. Merlin- Fuck, I’ll explain it all later. I should’ve told you. I had no clue the dementors would even be here. Dumbledore assured me that they’d be far away. Oh, Lovely- if it got its hands on you it would’ve-” 

“Dad.” You cut him off, “Harry.” You nod towards the boy who’s passed out. Hermionie and Ron simply stare helplessly.

“Oh! Yes, yes.” Remus mutters, moving to check on Harry now that he’s realized that you are okay.

“Not even at school yet and we’ve already gotten into some kind of trouble.” Ron mutters. He is quickly silenced by a swift kick to the shins, given by Hermionie. 

Minutes feel like hours as you wait for Harry to wake up. When he does stir, he sits up and looks around, confused. Remus pulls a bar of chocolate from his cloak pocket. 

“Here. Eat.” Remus murmurs comfortingly. Harry takes it, his expression unsure. He looks at me and I give him a reassuring nod. “It’s alright. It’s chocolate.” Remus says, encouraging Harry to eat. 

“What- what was that?” Harry asks shakily, adjusting his glasses. 

“A dementor. One of the guards of Azkaban.” Remus sits back in his chair. His gaze is heavy as he stares at Harry. “He’s gone now. He’s looking for the traitor Sirius Black.” Your friends don’t catch the way Remus’s jaw ticks and his shoulders tense at the name. They don’t notice how Remus’s eyes flick to yours for a moment or how you avert your gaze. They don’t notice the sadness in Remus’s eyes remembering his companion as though he was a murderer. You do. You notice everything about Remus. 

He stands and sets the rest of the chocolate bar in Harry’s lap before kissing you on top of your head. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” he starts as he opens the compartment door “I need to have a word with the driver.” He takes one more glance at all of you, his gaze landing on Harry. “Eat. You’ll feel better.” With that, he slips out and the door shuts with a click, leaving the four of you in silence. 

So much for an uneventful school year.

After the dust had settled and everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself in Dumbledore’s office, standing stuck to the floor next to Professor McGonagall. Her arms are crossed and her eyes are filled with concern as she talks with Dumbledore. Across the room, Remus is pacing back and forth, dragging his hands through his hair. The whole display didn't feel real. Maybe it wasn’t.

You were dreaming. A nightmare. Soon you’d wake up at home, tucked safely in your bed. Harry wasn’t attacked by a dementor. Your dad hadn’t escaped jail. 

You shivered at the thought. 

You knew he wouldn't hurt you. You were sure of that. But all those years locked away for wrongful imprisonment would probably make a guy want to settle some grudges. 

You were numb. Remus was livid. 

“What happens if they realize that she’s his daughter? Huh? Those dementors won’t think twice about killing her. They’ll sense his blood and give her the kiss before she can even pull out her wand.” Remus said angrily. He was smoking a cigarette. In fact, he was almost through a pack. 

Severus Snape stares at him coldly from across the room. Logically, you knew that Snape was trustworthy. Dumbledore wouldn’t be so loyal to him if he was truly evil. But there was something deep within you that told you Snape was no good. The way he walks, the tone of his voice, the condescending way he stares at you sends your blood boiling. Apparently he had a big feud with The Marauders when they were young. Even if it wasn’t in your DNA to hate Snape, you still would loathe the man for how he treated others. He looked away when muggle-borns were being bullied. He praised Draco malfoy, the prince prick of all pricks. Snape never passed up the chance to take points from houses other than Slytherin and he’s rumoured to be a death eater. 

Nothing is worse, though, than how he treats Moony. 

Your Moony. The one who makes you toast and dries your tears. The one who saved you, who took you in. Somehow Snape is able to bully your kind hearted, gentle, loving Remus. In the time that they’ve been in the same room, Snape has already mocked Remus’s lycanthropy, made snide comments about your upbringing (as if the fact that Remus wasn’t rich made your life with him any less happy), and he went so far as to insinuate that Remus was a traitor due to his loyalty to Sirius. 

Severus Snape was a dick. 

 “The dementors are instructed to stay far away, in the unlikely case that it becomes an issue-” Says Snape, his voice nasally and irritating. 

“Unlikely? A dementor has already attacked a student. Harry could’ve been seriously injured. Or worse!” Remus takes a deep inhale of the cigarette. He moves to stand at your side. “Call them off, Professor. Call them off or we’re leaving.” He looks to Dumbledore, his brow set in a determined stare, stubbornly making a point. Dumbledore sighs and shakes his head patiently.

“Remus, we just can’t do that. It’s standard protocol.” You hear Remus huff next to you, agitated. Dumbledore continues “I will speak to Harry about the encounter and I’ll talk to the ministry about the ordeal but we won’t call off the dementors. I’m truly sorry but there is nothing I can do.” He looks genuine. You give him a small smile and he gives you one back, a glint in his eye as he leaves. Snape trails after him next, giving Remus a snide look. 

Professor McGonagall remains with the two of you, turning towards the still fuming Remus. 

“Minnie, I mean what I said. I will leave and she’s coming with me. I promised that I’d keep her safe and I will not let her stay so close to those fucking things.” Remus starts pacing again, muttering angrily as Professor McGonagall tries to calm him down.

“Remus, listen to me, leaving will do nothing but harm. What happens if people think you are in cahoots with Black? Here, Albus will protect you both. Who will protect you if you are at home?” Her voice is sharp but not unkind. She looks at him with a motherly sort of fierceness. 

“If anyone tries anything, I’ll be the one in Azkaban.” Remus says, lighting another cigarette. 

As the two of them bicker back and forth, your gaze drifts to the window. The moon is bright and clear, almost full. That was probably another reason for Remus’s mood. He always got territorial and antsy when the full moon was closer. When you first moved in with him, the full moon nearing meant he would get distant. He was so scared that he would hurt you somehow. Once he became more sure of his place in your life, his pre-moon behavior changed. He would become fiercely protective. You supposed it was the natural instinct to protect enhanced by the wolf. 

Once McGonagall is able to calm Remus down (and confiscate his cigarettes) she sends the two of you out, ordering you back to the dorms and Remus to the professor’s quarters. It was funny seeing her scold him, it was like he was a teen again. He might be much taller than the old woman, but she still put him in his place quickly. 

“She should know better than that. I obviously have more packs than that.” Remus says, trying to lighten the mood as he walks you back to the Gryffindor common room. You simply stare ahead angrily. He looks at you and taps you on the head. “Lovely, don’t be mad. C’mon I don’t smoke that much.” No response. Remus sighs. “I want to keep you safe, kid. I can’t let anything happen to you. Seriously.” You stop and look up at him, upset.

“Sirius Black is out of Azkaban and you didn’t think to tell me? You didn’t think I needed to know?” You spit out. Remus recoils at the anger in your voice. “I’m not six anymore. You should have told me.”

“I should have.” Remus nods, stopping in his tracks. “You’re right about that. But when I found out, the only thing I could think to do is protect you, mate. I will always defend Sirius. You know that.” His voice is unsteady as she stares at you. “But Azkaban changes people. Who knows what he’s like now.” You look down, unable to hold his gaze any longer. He pulls you into him, hugging you. “And I didn’t even think. I just needed you safe, mate.”

When you arrived at the common room safely, Remus took a glance around before giving you a kiss goodnight. Harry, Hermionie, and Ron were sitting on the couch by the fire, talking quietly. Their conversation stops when they notice you. Remus gives them all a smile and a nod.

“Goodnight Ron, Hermione. Goodnight Harry.” He says before turning and leaving. When you face the group again, they’re all pulling you down to sit.

“What was that about? Where were you?” Asks Hermione, her head tilted curiously. What were you supposed to say?

“Me? Oh, just preparing for the oncoming dementor attack I’ll get because of the fact that my dad escaped from prison. Yeah, my dad is Sirius Black, sorry I’ve been lying to you all about that. And sorry about your mum and dad Harry.” 

You figured that that wouldn’t go over well so instead you give Hermionie the most convincing smile you can muster. 

“Just helping my dad settle in, no need to worry.” That seemed to have calmed her and she continues talking to Ron about the classes she’s enrolled in this year. You feel Harry’s unwavering gaze on your profile. You turn to look at him. “What?” You ask, hoping he doesn’t see right through you.

“That’s your dad, huh?” He says nodding towards the portrait hole Remus had just left. You swallow thickly and nod. “You look nothing alike.” You blink, unsure of what to say to that so you simply shrug. 

Leaning back against the couch, something catches your eye. It’s small enough to be overlooked but you caught the little carving written into the side of the side table: 

“Sirius was here” 

As your friends chatted away about the upcoming year, you stared at the little carving. A small act of teenage rebellion, nothing meaningful. It stuck with you though. Sirius was here. 

Sirius was everywhere.

He’s Remus’s sigh after a laugh, he’s the frustration in professors’ voices when they correct you, he’s the stubborn furrow in your brow that forms when you’re being defiant. He is there when you’re upset at the world. He’s there when you look at photos, or listen to music. He was there when you snuck one of Remus’s cigarettes one night over the summer. He’s in the common room- his name written on random surfaces or Prophet headlines. 

He’s inescapable. He follows you around wherever you go, whether you like it or not. 

 He’s the mangy black dog with shaggy fur and wild eyes that’s found a hiding place in the shrieking shack. 

notes: IF IT'S BAD IM SORRY. i'm not exaggerating when i say that i get so nervous posting this. please give me validation y'all i live for it. (some of your comments have me giggling and kicking my feet) also im so sorry that it took so long to post this chapter. i was going through it.

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR ILYSM!!!!

taglist, comment to be added <3 : @mmmunson @reesespeesees @starmaniii @deathmybride

(if you reblog, i'll give you my firstborn rumplestiltskin style)

[liveyun]

you’re an idiot (so am i) | j.jk

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem oc/reader

rating. M

genre. enemies to 👀, university AU, neighbours AU, comedy, drama, romance, angst, slight smut

warnings. coarse language, crACK like lOTS OF IT, theyre both idiots. excessive bickering,,, gym related stuff,,, Medical school itself is a warning,, unhealthy amounts of protein mentions,, i’m Sorry if you’re a gymbro 😭🙏🏾, awkwardness, oc gets slightly injured, it gets slightly smutty 👀, unspoken feelings bc they both suck at communicating, some Cute stuff, that should be it but lmk if i missed any, its 4am

wc. 4.5k +

if this writing style flops, i’ll probably quit writing too 💀

it’s 7:04 AM

or is it really. what is the time again

unfortunately you are awake.

and it’s not by choice.

it’s because your protein 💪 PROTEIN 💪 MORE PROTEIN 🏋️ gymrat neighbour is up, doing burpees in his living room

and the walls between your apartments are criminally thin

and you’re convinced he’s trying to invent a new form of torture through burpees because the sQUEAKING OF HIS DAMN SHOES ARE JUST AS LOUD AS AN ALARM CLOCK!!

why is he even awake at this ungodly hour, you wonder for the 8293838th time since moving in

you feel like crying

for rEAL.

it was around 5:30 am when u finally had let out a sigh of relief at having finally completed your assignment

you roll out of bed, hair resembling a bird’s nest

what else is bed hair supposed to look like

“O YEA!”

here we go

again

you feel like ripping your already damaged hair bc why does he have to be so damn loud

has no occupant not filed a complaint against him yet?

so now u consider knocking on his door to complain... but you remember what happened the last time you tried

jungkook had answered the door holding two dumbbells liKe they were extensions of his arms, shirtless, smiling so brightly it could cure vitamin D deficiency

you knew you were cooked the moment smirked at you gawkinG at his physique and you felt your cheeks warming up

“oh, hey, Y/N,” he’d said, casually flexing mid-sentence with that stupid grin on his face “need something? Or just admiring the view?”

you haven’t known peace ever since

by 8:15 AM, you’ve surrendered to fate and shuffled into the kitchen for coffee

you swEar you hear Jungkook’s blender whirring as he makes another one of his infamous protein shakes

does he even eat anything which does not have protein powder

like ok you understand the value of protein

but anything which has that stupid thing in it automatically tastes like the Biggest Piece of Dogshit

and somehow that’s what you neighbour has 24/7

last week he had accidentally left one in the communal fridge

it smelled like death and regret.

absolute L

anyway u think u need to get something in ur system too and thats when u open your fridge

and sigh

it’s empty.

except for a jar of pickles and a, uh, questionable carton of oat milk

yea. you’ll have to get brunch today. no futher questions asked

10:32 AM

ur first class of the day

and guess what

u have made the mistake of sitting near Jungkook in the lecture hall.

again! 😍

u swear that u are trying to focus on the lecture but is it really your fault that jungkook looks extra,,,...,,,

beefy

his notebook is open, but instead of notes, he’s drawing a disturbingly accurate diagram of biceps

and the shading looks pretty accurate too

he notices you staring, oof “anatomy is about more than just books, Y/N.”

you feel a muscle near your eye twitch

“i really don’t remember asking.”

ouch

that came out a bit too rude. . .

you feel like u should say sorry or something but he just flashes you that golden retriever grin

and somehow, you’re the one who feels stupid

12:10 PM

you’d think a med school lunch break would feel like a break

but no

the first thing you hear is the unmistakable pop of jungkook’s tupperware lid. it’s like pavlov’s bell, but instead of a dog, it triggers your impending irritation

of course it’s chicken, broccoli, and rice. gymrat starter pack™

does this man even know other foods exist?

atleast it doesn’t look unseasoned so maybe you can take it

you’re not the one having it anyway

“bon appétit,” he says with that smug grin, shoveling a forkful into his mouth like he’s filming a mukbang

you side-eye your sad excuse of a sandwich. “don’t you ever get bored of eating that?”

he gasps like a victorian man having seen the ankle of his wife for the first time

“bored? of gains? never.”

the chewing. oh god, the chewing. it’s so loud you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose

crunch. chew. sip of water from the world’s largest bottle. repeat.

“do you have to eat like a vacuum?”

he pauses, fork mid-air, and looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. then he grins. “do you have to be this cute when you’re annoyed?”

wha— cough!!

did you just choke at your sandwich infront of him?

-100 aura points

your brain just blue-screens

what the hell are you supposed to do with that information

12:22 pm

you haven’t touched your chips yet. you’re saving them for after jungkook’s food massacre ends

his tupperware is licked clean but he’s already eyeing your bag of chips like a hawk

“you gonna eat those?”

“yes, jungkook, i’m gonna eat my chips”

“cool”

c r u n c h

he’s already eaten half the bag.

u are genuinely considering homicide now

the girl from the next table suddenly waves at him, all giggly and twirling her hair like she’s auditioning for a romcom

“hey, jungkook! you should totally sit with us!”

he glances at you, one brow raised. “should i?”

“why are you asking me?” you snap, already annoyed (but like, annoyed in a normal way, not jealous. definitely not jealous)

you miss the way his lips quirk in the corners

“nah, i think i’ll stay here,” he says, smirking. “you’re better company anyway”

...

why is your face heating up. why. stop it

1:00 PM

you’re walking to your next class when jungkook catches up, sipping his protein shake. the smell is somewhere between expired yogurt and pure evil

“so, lunch was fun,” he says casually, like he didn’t commit multiple crimes against your sanity earlier

“for who?” you mumble, giving him the nastiest bombastic side eye

“for both of us,” he replies, grinning. “don’t lie, y/n, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around”

“i’d miss the peace”

he laughs heartily and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to both strangle him and maybe... smile a little

1:12 PM

ur phone dings

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bring more chips tomorrow

or don’t. i’ll just steal them again

>:D

you stare at your screen for a second, debating whether to respond or block his number

you type back

you : (1:13PM) touch my chips again and i’ll report you to student conduct

his reply is instant.

dumb(bell)kook : (now) bet they’d let me off for good behavior 😛

2:47 pm.

group project time!

otherwise known as “watch y/n slowly lose her sanity” time

you're hunched over your notes, trying to come up with literally anything for this cursed assignment while everyone else is glued to their phones

“guys, any ideas?” you try, for the fifth time, because teamwork makes the dream work, right?

wrong. dead silence. you can practically hear your soul exiting your body

one guy mutters, "we could... idk, make a powerpoint?" and goes back to scrolling on instagram. helpful king

you’re about three seconds away from making a powerpoint on why you hate everyone here when the door swings open

in walks jungkook, twenty minutes late, balancing a protein shake in one hand and a clipboard in the other

like he’s about to announce his plan for world domination

he slides into the chair next to you, annoyingly fresh, as if he hasn’t just already benched three cows at the gym

“did i miss anything?” he asks, sipping his shake and eyeing you with those boba lookalike peepers like he’s the main character

why are his eyes so

cute

“yeah, we solved climate change and made contact with aliens. you're late.”

he smirks. smirks. “nice. guess i’ll tackle world hunger next.”

one of your lab mates looks up from her phone just to whisper, “he’s so hot..”

my ass.

“he’s useless”

you’re about to drop-kick the clipboard out of his hands when he lazily stretches and says, “so what’s the plan, y/n? you always have the best ideas”

and just like that, everyone turns to you like a pack of hyenas waiting for their next meal

you might actually murder him. right after you finish this stupid project.

>:-)

midnight.

you’re staring at your notes like they’re written in ancient alien hieroglyphics. focus? yup, that’s a myth

through the wall, you hear it. again.

jungkook’s obnoxious gym playlist thumping loud enough to summon the gods of protein.

how about you just summon the reaper to maybe reap your soul or his

you try to ignore it. you really do. but then the bass drops, and you swear the walls start vibrating

ARGH

that’s it. you’ve snapped. you slam your pen down and march out of your apartment like a woman on a mission

by the time you’re at his door, you’re already regretting this decision

but sleep-deprived y/n? she’s not known for her impulse control

you bang on the door like your life depends on it

>:-(

after a moment, jungkook opens up, looking like he just stepped out of a gym rat rom-com. damp hair, earbuds in, wearing a tank top that shows off way too much arm.

good lord, those tattoos..

“what’s up?” he asks casually, pulling out an earbud, as if you didn’t just nearly break his door down

whats up? what thE hELL DOES HE MEAN WHATS UP??

“it’s midnight!” you yell, waving a hand in the general direction of your apartment. “some of us need sleep to survive!”

he blinks at you, tilting his head like a confused golden retriever. “but you’re awake now. want to do a quick set of push-ups?

you stare at him. you need to go to the store from where he bought the audacity. “push-ups?!”

“yeah,” he says, dead serious. “it’s a good way to burn off frustration. i do them all the time when i’m annoyed.”

“maybe i should start,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes. “because i’m annoyed right now.”

jungkook grins like the demon he is. “great! i’ll grab my mat.”

before you can stop him, he’s already turned back into his apartment. you briefly consider running, but it’s too late.

this is your life now.

five minutes later, you’re on the floor of his apartment, struggling to do one (1) push-up while he effortlessly does twenty in the same time it takes you to collapse in defeat

you feel like someone has bathed you in sweat

“this is humiliating,” you groan, face smushed into the mat

maybe you should’ve just slept

“nah, you’re doing great,” he says, way too cheerfully for someone torturing you. “just three more and you’ll hit... like, five total.”

you debate throwing a dumbbell at him but decide against it

jail isn’t worth it.

yet.

five minutes later you’re on the floor of his apartment, now two (2) push-ups deep and already regretting every decision you’ve made up to this point

you try again, your arms shaking with the effort, your brain screaming for mercy, when—

crack

“ow, ow, ow!” you yelp as your shoulder protests in a way that’s probably not supposed to happen

“that’s it, i’m dOne” you wince, face red from the sheer humiliation and pain

jungkook is standing there with a weirdly sympathetic expression that’s 90% amusement and 10% concern

he’s crouching beside you now, and you can't help but notice his Bambi eyes, all big and concerned, looking at your shoulder like he's actually worried for you

fml

this is so unfair

“u good?” he asks, voice unusually soft, and you can’t help but notice that barely there scar on his left cheek pulling slightly as he frowns and looks down at you

you glare at him, wincing a little more than you’d like to admit

does it look like ur good lol

“i think i pulled something” you mutter, still holding your shoulder, and mentally kicking yourself for agreeing to do this in the first place

you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to him

“mm,” he hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to your face, and then down to your shoulder with that gentle focus you didn’t think he was capable of

oUuu

“you should’ve asked for help, rookie” he says with that familiar cocky grin, but you catch the slight crinkle of concern in his brow, the mole beneath his lips almost beckoning you to stare at it

why is he so dumb but also so stupidly handsome?

and then his fingers are brushing against your shoulder again, carefully massaging the area in a way that’s too intimate for someone who’s just your annoying gym-obsessed neighbor

your heart rate spikes, and suddenly the injury doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore

“i’m fine, really,” you lie, trying to brush it off, but the way his Bambi eyes are looking at you—all soft and worried—has your head spinning

oh god

“i don’t think you are” he mutters, voice low, as he places a hand gently on your waist, pulling you just a little closer

god, stop being so touchy

the fact that he smells like musk and with some citrus-y notes underneath doesn’t help either

you feel your cheeks warming and lips parting

you feel yourself leaning in despite all logic telling you to stop, and then his eyes flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes, slow and cautious, like he’s waiting for your permission

you really cannot help but feel your heart skip a beat at how beautiful he looks. no like for real, his hair is slightly overgrown, curled at the ends which fall gracefully over his face

and how soft his lips look

your brain is too far gone, and the next thing you know, you’re kissing him, hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer

his hair feels so silky soft

but his lips are even softer, but there’s a desperate edge to the kiss, and you don’t know if it's because of your injury or the fact that you’ve both been playing this weird tension game for far too long

you feel like u can finally die kissing him like this

his hand slides down your back, pressing you into him as if you might disappear, and you pull away, gasping for air

jungkook’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown and heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks at you with an unreadable expression

“shit, i… i didn’t think i was actually going to do that” he murmurs, his voice rough and nearly trembling if u hear closely

you stare at his lips again, the mole under them, the way he looks so dumb but also so dumb handsome

his mouth parts to say something stupid again but you shush him with your pointer on his lips

“shut up and kiss me again, you idiot” you mutter, pulling him back in without a second thought

oH WOW

Jungkook doesn’t need any more encouragement. this time, it’s all teeth and heat, a kiss that feels like it might burn the air around you both

and your shoulder? completely forgotten, left in the dust

the kiss doesn’t end in some grand, romantic crescendo like the movies promised

you both were shamelessly making out on his mat

you were perched on his lap and both of u were busy eating eachother’s mouths (it sounds gross but that’s what exactly u two were doing) when suddenly you give his hair a tug

and you hear a moan spilling from him

his hips buck up and you gasp, but it ends with him abruptly pulling away

he’s breathing like he just ran an hour on the treadmill. cheeks all flushed, lips shining with saliva and eyes wide

and your heart is hammering in your chest like it’s trying to escape

jungkook stares at you, lips slightly swollen, eyes wide and wild, and for once, the idiot looks just as lost as you feel

“i—uh—” you stammer, the words tangling in your throat because what the hell are you supposed to say after something like that

“y- yeah,” he cuts in, his voice rough and strained like he’s been punched in the gut, “same”

same? SAME?!

you glare at him, more out of panic than anger, because suddenly the room feels too small, and his scent—something annoyingly musky and Jungkook-ish—is now overwhelming you

“i, uh, should go” you blurt out, scrambling to your feet and clutching your sore shoulder like a lifeline

jungkook doesn’t stop you, just sits there on the floor, looking up at you with a furrowed brow and an expression you can’t quite place

“cool” he mutters, dragging a hand through his messy hair as his jaw clenches

you don’t say anything else, don’t even look back as you practically bolt out of his apartment and into the safety of your own, slamming the door shut behind you

breathe, you tell yourself, leaning against the door, your heart still racing, your lips still tingling from his kiss

you won’t lie, you really didn’t think it would take just a tug of hair to have Mr. Muscle moaning under you

and that kind of inflated ur ego too

>:-)

but now

as u stand behind your closed door

the warmth that had filled your chest moments ago is quickly replaced by a knot of confusion and panic

because this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with Jungkook of all people

he’s my annoying gym-rat neighbor. this is… this is stupid

or is this really?..

no matter how much you try to convince yourself, your fingers keep brushing your lips absentmindedly, and your brain replays the moment over and over again like some kind of cruel joke

the next morning, you half expect him to blast his gym playlist at full volume to piss you off like he always does

but it’s quiet

too quiet

jungkook doesn’t blast music. doesn’t clank weights around. doesn’t do anything to make his presence known, and it’s driving you insane

you don’t know why it bothers you so much, but it does

when you leave for class, you catch a glimpse of him locking his door, but he doesn’t even glance your way

just slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks off like you don’t exist

asshole

yea that hurt. a Lot. like a good amount, because you are sure that you felt that pain in the centre of your chest

but it’s not like you’re any better

you bury yourself in your textbooks, pretending the kiss never happened, even though your stupid brain refuses to let it go

your chest feels tight every time you hear his door open or his voice filter through the thin walls

and you hate how you feel disappointed every time he doesn’t acknowledge you

like you really are a stranger to him

:-(

it’s pathetic, but you can’t help it

the silence between the two of you stretches on like an invisible barrier

days pass, and the two of you become masters of the fine art of avoidance

there’s a strange art to it, like walking on eggshells in your own apartment

even if u two live in separate apartments, it just feels

weird

you are so used to him being so noisy and what not

but the silence is heavy, uncomfortable, like an unfinished sentence hanging in the air

and it’s clEar neither of you know how to handle whatever the hell this is

you can’t figure out whether it’s a relief or suffocating

and every time you pass him in the hallway or see him through your apartment window, it’s like a silent conversation you’re not having

and that, somehow, feels worse than everything else

you want him to say something. anything.

but he doesn’t

and neither do you

and it makes you sick how easy it is to fall back into the rhythm of pretending he doesn’t exist

even when he’s right there.

you go to class and he’s there

sitting three rows ahead of you like he’s deliberately trying to ignore you

and with that girl who cannot seem to have her hands off his bicep

and you’re… fine with it

totally fine

you are just hoping that your glare is enough to burn a hole in her skull

it’s just that you can’t stop staring at the back of his head

like maybe he’ll turn around and say something but nope

the entire lecture passes and he doesn’t even glance over

and you try not to overthink it but you’re pretty sure jungkook is doing the same thing to you

ignoring you

on purpose

you’re not imagining it, right?

lunch rolls around and you sit down at your usual spot

jungkook’s sitting at the table next to you with his back to you

he doesn’t even look up when you sit down

normally, he would’ve sent you a little half-smile or asked about your day or whatever. .

but now? nothing

it’s like you’re invisible

and that’s fine. you don’t care.

but deep down, you feel this weird lump in your chest

because you didn’t expect this coldness from him

even after everything that’s happened

and you’d even unconsciously brought his favourite flavour of chips he especially likes..

:(

then you see him texting on his phone

and you can’t help but peek over at his screen

jungkook is texting someone

and it’s not you

for some reason, that stings more than it should, but you swallow it down and pretend you didn’t notice

the silence between the two of you stretches out for days

it’s like the entire universe is pretending you never had that moment together

the night when everything took a wild ass turn

but jungkook’s acting like it never happened

and so are you.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s better

maybe he regrets kissing you.

maybe you even made him uncomfortable?..

and maybe this is easier

you can’t decide if it hurts or if you’re just overthinking it

either way, you stop checking his texts, stop wondering what he’s doing in his apartment

you try your best to pretend it’s okay

but deep down, you miss the stupid moments

the ones where he wasn’t so distant where it feels like something ended between you two before it could even start.

it feels like it’s been over a decade

:(

and you hate it.

but you push it aside

it’s just… the silence is way too loud now.

you’re sitting in your room, trying to convince yourself that letting go of jungkook is the right thing to do

and perhaps ur failing miserably lol

but it’s hard because every five minutes you catch yourself staring at something that reminds you of him

your notes? he doodled on them during lectures

your hoodie? yeah, it’s his. he lent it to you one day and never asked for it back

your heart? yeah. he kind of stole that too

you’re spiraling between sleep and insanity when there’s a knock on your door

no, wait—it’s not a knock

it’s banging — like someone’s fist is about to break through the wood

WHO CALLED THE COPS ON YOU ONG

you jump up, your heart pounding, and open the door

and there he is

jungkook—standing there, looking like he just ran a marathon and fought a bear at the same time

hair all messy, slight bags underneath his eyes and kinda disheveled outfit

for a split second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat

oh

it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and suddenly having him standing in front of you is making your heart race like crazy

“i can’t—” he stops, breathless, hands on his knees like he’s about to collapse

you’re standing there, eyes wide, totally taken aback by the sight of him, feeling a mix of relief and something else you can’t quite place

yet

“i can’t take it anymore,” he says, looking up at you with that ridiculous face of his

you grab that meaty bicep of him, ushering him to stand up

“what are you talking about?” you ask, completely confused

“you. i’m talking about you,” he says, taking a step closer

hUH

the air around you feels like it’s being sucked out of the room

your head is spinning because after all this time, here he is, right in front of you

“i like you. i’ve always liked you. and i didn’t know how to tell you, so i…”

“i got all this gym equipment just to bother you. i’d turn the music up way too loud, and i thought that’d make you notice me. i sat next to you at lunch, even in lectures, doing everything to annoy you because i didn’t know how else to approach you, i really thought—”

“jungkook.”

you blink, processing everything in a blur, your heart still hammering in your chest

but he doesn’t quite listen to you. “i knew you liked my sketches we had during cardio lectures, so i always made sure to draw—”

“juNGKOOK!”

you cut him off, smacking his idiotic shoulders “you’re an idiot.”

jungkook stops, eyes widening a little, but there’s this look of relief on his face

like a huge weight has just been lifted off him

almost like when u get to pee after holding it in for hours

“i know,” he says softly, and for the first time, you realize how vulnerable he looks standing there

he somehow looks

small.

“then why didn’t you just talk to me like a normal person?” you ask, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement

jungkook smiles sheepishly, his pearly whites flashing. “i guess i thought this would be easier.”

easier.

only if he knew that each moment without him felt like the earth opening up and swallowing you

AND!!! HIS FAVOURITE ONION VINEGAR FLAVORED CHIPS!! which used to be your absolutely hated flavour but somehow you’ve caught a liking to them recently

how ironic

the room feels heavy with tension as you both stand there, unsure of what to say next, but his gaze is so intense, it makes your heart skip

“say something,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “please.”

you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, still flustered, but there’s something about his earnestness that makes everything else fade into the background

and the way his caramel brown eyes nearly sparkle underneath your dimly lit apartment lights

you shake your head with a smile.

“you’re an idiot.”

but you're smiling like a total fool because what else are you supposed to do when the guy you’ve been in love with just confessed to you?

jungkook’s face softens, and then he smiles too

a smile which looks so adorable you feel your heart will burst

and it’s over for you

“so, uh…” he scratches the back of his neck, looking bashful. “does that mean you like me too?”

you roll your eyes, your heart racing all over again, and grab the front of his shirt to pull him inside

“kiss me already”

the door slams shut behind you.

and the rest

as they say, is history

:-)

a/n : i love them bad :’(

mlist | let me know what you think anonymously :))

[cavernned]

ENHYPEN WITH ENTERTAINER TROPES

maknae line version!

hyung line version

notes: so….. i know it’s been a while since i uploaded the first part! AND IM SORRY FOR THAT. i just got really busy and then i was honestly considering scrapping it altogether bc i thought it was kind of a trash idea (oops!) but after recieving all the love on my rating my exes smau i thought that i might as well do the maknae line! to those that were waiting on it i apologize and hope that this suffices 💜🤍 (also please lmk if you want to be added to the perm taglist for my enha works!)

word count < 2890

trigger warnings: none!

model!sunoo x stylist!reader

Sunoo is a famous model!

Not only is he famous for his great visuals but also his cute personality 

every critic online would be saying that his face did not match his onstage persona at all! 

those that he worked with never had anything negative to say about him

in behind the scenes videos he’s cheerful and can be found interacting with staff

but once he gets on the runway….

it’s like a switch is flipped!

no more smiles or giggles, just serving face

and this is exactly what makes him so popular

another thing that always caught peoples eye were his day to day looks

from the way he styled his hair, the makeup that laced his face, all the way down to the clothes on his back seemed ti be perfectly curated to make him look good

AND BOY IH BOY DID IT WORK

but of course nobody could look that good everyday without a little help

and people began to speculate…

who is the genius behind Sunoo’s looks??

In a recent interview he’s asked this question 

his fans obviously expect him to happily answer like he usually does but-

HE COMPLETELY GATEKEEPS?????

rather than answering directly he laughs it off and makes a joke about how it’s all him!

and boy oh boy this answer disappointed many

(since this behind-the-scenes stylist was in such high demand amongst not only models but celebrities too!) 

people online searched and searched for any sort of hint or trace of this mystery fashion consultant 

but there was genuinely nothing!

UNTIL ONE FATEFUL DAYYYYYYY

some deep diver finds you credited in a post made long before Sunoo was famous 

before he was even a runway model at that

and the post didn’t even have him in it, there were only pictures of you at your graduation 

in the description was your name,  “l would like to congratulate Y/N L/N not only as an aspiring stylist and fashion designer, but as my one and only.” 

welp, the cats out of the bag 😅

YOU’D NEVER WOKEN UP TO SO MANY NOTIFICATIONS BEFORE…

You definitely didn’t post anything new or had any recent requests for pieces. Hell your commissions weren’t even open anymore? To top it all off you really weren’t on your phone that much to begin with. So imagine the surprise that you felt when the buzzing of your phone was coming from insta notifications rather than the sound of your alarm.

Not feeling quite ready to deal with the day yet, you quickly pick up the device to silence the flashing screen. Before you can even put the phone back down another notification pops up. This one coming from a message sent to your business email specifically. 

The first word being proposal was all you needed to. You were caught red handed. Instinctively, you turn over to your left. Beside you was Sunoo peacefully sleeping, completely oblivious to the chaos he most likely caused. As gently as you can you wake the boy up. 

“What’s up? it’s Saturday why are you up so early.” he loudly yawns.

Instead of using your words you quickly shove the phone into his face. Not before giving you a confused look, he takes the device from your hands and looks at the screen. It only takes him a few seconds to recognize what occurred while the two of you slept. “oh shit.”

————————————-

Later in the day during he actually had a shoot. 

Usually during his breaks he would film videos for his fans. They would consist of sneak peaks, informing them about his day, or just him eating snacks 

Since his girlfriend was outed on the internet though, there was no more beating around the bush (as much as he still wanted you to be his little secret)

That day you had also come into work with him, to tag along. So what better way to show you off then to include you in his daily vlog! 

Carefully he set up his camera. “Hey guys it’s been a while!” he happily said. 

After chatting about what he’d been up to and giving little hints as to what he’d was shooting for, he finally brought up the elephant in the room.

“I know you guys have been very curious about me.” he states, “There’s been a lot of stuff circling around online, but yes I do have a partner.”

He then grabs the camera and begins making his way over to another area. One in which you’re sitting and looking through emails on your phone. Placing it right in your face to your shock.

“This is her!” and then he abruptly ends the videos choosing to limit access to you once again. He was being serious about gatekeeping you from the world, his girlfriend was too good for people to gawk at. 

“What was that about!” you ask as he begins to sit next you. He rests his head on your shoulder feeling tired from everything going on and from changing outfits about twenty times. “oh nothing..” he replied.

It was in fact not nothing. 

When the video was uploaded later in the day, he couldn’t catch a break. Reading comments about how beautiful his girlfriend was and questions as to why he waited so long to reveal such a talented and pretty lady. 

To make things worse you laughed at his sulking! When he came to confide in you about his wishes to keep you all to himself, you giggled and in your exact words said “it’s been a long time coming.”

He supposes you were right. There was just no way your talent and beauty would be hidden forever. It was obvious that you were always meant for more than just being his stylist and he never planned on stopping you when the time came for you to branch out. Even though he didn’t expect said time to be so soon, he was happy for you and the opportunities he knew were bound to come.

That didn’t stop him from pouting about it though!

influencer!jungwon x bystander!reader

I think it’d be so funny if Jungwon was like a popular content creator 

an influencer if you will

in terms of content i feel like he’d do everything 

reactions, commentary, unboxings, mukbangs, playing games

hell maybe he’d even venture into doing asmr for a little while

POINT IS that he didn’t restrict himself into one area of content

now of course the two of meet in mid video 

in the specific one, he’s actually streaming

during the live he had ordered food to eat, initially forgetting about the meal until the door bell rings signaling its arrival

he quickly excuses himself to pick up his dishes 

and low and behold

ITS YOU

the one that was paid to deliver his meal

to put it simply the interaction was quite hilarious 

since Jungwon truly believed that he fell in love at first sight he ended up stumbling over his words so badly, nearly tripping over his own feet

and to top it all off, he NEARLY dropped his entire meal onto the floor 

once the door closed he let out the loudest scream known to man

what made it worse was the fact that his chat saw the entire interaction since his doorframe was still in view of the camera. 

safe to say that his chat did NOT spare him from the clowning they did on twitter 

the next time he saw you was also, during stream (SHOCKER)

this time around he was vlogging 

on the hunt for blind boxes he’d had his eyes on for a while

as he walked throughout the busy Popmart, his eyes landed on a familiar face 

(a pretty one at that)

there you were in all of your glory

your stare zoned in on the various Peach Riot blind boxes

he signals to his chat that the pretty girl that delivered his food was here 

quickly he stuffs the tripod into his bag so his fans wouldn’t be able to see your face

and he makes his way over to you

and it wouldn’t be Jungwon if he didn’t fumbles and embarrass himself for a second time

by some MIRACLE he actually gains your number

bro left the store clicking his heels together (not before paying for your items 🙂‍↕️)

now his fans don’t officially meet you until a few weeks later in another stream he started

THE STREAM STARTED OFF JUST LIKE IT USUALLY DID…

He would start off by talking about what he’d been up to. Then move on to reading chat for a while, answering questions and clowning his viewers the same way they did to him.

Then Jungwon brought up the main activity for the stream, playing video games! Said video games just being ones on Roblox. 

As he played it mostly consisted of him rage bating, cursing out little kids, and abusing his power because of his youtuber privileges he was given in certain games. 

In the middle of his reign of terror, somebody walked into the room. That somebody being you! Not knowing he was streaming you came to check on him since he was constantly screaming (more than usual at least!) 

Seeing that you walked into his room he stopped everything that he was doing to run up to you. Now that his headphones and mic were off, his chat couldn’t hear anything but the games music and sound effects.

But they were going crazy!

did somebody just walking into his room

jungwon has friends ? wow what a shocker

who tf is that

^my bets are on the doordash person

he’s literally dying in game

did he just kiss her??????

“What are you doing here?” he questioned, “Sorry if I was too loud, were you sleeping?”

Finding amusement in his worry for your wellbeing you gently brushed his bangs away from his face, “No you weren’t too loud, I wasn’t sleeping, and I came to check on you.”

This is when he melted. He couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to have you. Which resulted in his very bad case of cuteness aggression. Instead of giving a response like a normal person, he began placing kisses all of your face with seemingly world record speed. 

Once he’s done smothering your face with his own, instead of ushering you out of the room he drags you over to his set up, pulling out a chair for you to sit in. He quickly disconnects his headphones from his stream so they’d be able to hear your voice.

“So chat, I have something to tell you…,” he ominously says, “I’m no longer bitchless”

Cue to his fans absolutely flaming him nonetheless.

propaganda im not falling for

pretty lady blink twice if you need help

are you sure because she was just in bed with me last week 😹

theres no WAY jungwon pulled before me

lets be honest she probably got paid to be here

You cackled loudly while reading the messages that were quickly flying through the screen as Jungwon begged his fans to have some faith in him for once. 

Once your laughing dies down and hes done complaining, your boyfriend encourages you to speak.

After giving a small rundown of who you are Jungwon decides to tell the story of how the two of you became a couple. Dating all the way before the doordash incident, the both of you had a mutual friend and unknowingly went to the same college (before Jungwon dropped out which his chat also made fun of him for) 

After the whole Doordash and blind box fiasco where he managed to score your number, the two of you began chatting back and forth online. Which is when he found out about your love for playing video games! The two of you would spend most nights together on FaceTime, playing Stardew Valley and Minecraft with one another.

In a joking manner, he expressed his worries to you that maybe he was falling head over heels for a stalker. To which you were offended since you really had no clue that he was famous at all until he told. Im fact he had to show proof that he was popular online because to you he was only Jungwon, your boyfriend. Which perfectly worked out for the two of you!

Once the whole rundown thing was over, the two of you played video games late into the night basically forgetting fans were even watching the two of you. 

I hate the fact that he pulled her

can she date me instead

if they started streaming i would definitely subscribe

^she’s literally funnier than him

jungwon retire and give your channel to (name) thank you very much ����

dancer!ni-ki x dancer!reader

dance influencers yayyyyy!!!

like jblaze and kirsten kind of dancers

basically well known and superrrr talented but also kind of behind the scenes

so how do you guys meet?

well this one is obvious

you’re obviously background dancers in the same mv

even then you guys don’t necessarily have to become close

but NO, in this choreography there are plenty of duo sections

and you and ni-ki were specifically partnered together

(it’s what the people want to see!!) 

since you guys are both try-hards, oftentimes you spend extra hours in the studio getting the moves down

naturally, the two of you go closerrrr 

often hosting lives and posting challenges with one another

AND THE DANCE COMMUNITY IS RAVINGGGGGG ABOUT YOU GUYS

it’s like two meteorites collided !

seeing two people be so effortlessly cool genuinely blew peoples minds

which checks out! 

once the MV the two of you were working in comes out people expect the era pf your duo to end

but no….

the lives keep coming, instagram posts, and multiple dance routines created by the two of you

at this point people are questioning if you guys are just a pair now or madly in love with each other

AND NOBODY KNOWS

up until one day

when a little stream titled “Dance Studio Tour :)” begins to go live

THE CAMERA MAN DILIGENTLY FOLLOWS

NI-KI AROUND…

He’d already covered a good amount of areas. The entrance, locker rooms, and lounge area had all been explored around with a camera. Streaming a tour of the studio he currently worked at.

Nearing the end of the livestream he finally reached the main areas, the mirror rooms.

There were three in total. Each would host a variety of different classes. Whether that be hip-hop, ballet, heels, ballroom, contemporary, or plenty of others. The first two were relatively normal. One being occupied with a class that he happily greeted and the second being wiped down by a janitor. 

Finally making his way to the third room which was obviously occupied. Loud music echoed across the mirrored walls and the lights created the perfect setting. At first glance (or direction of camera in this scenario) it looked empty, until the lenses landed on you.

There in the middle of the room you were on a tablet, closely monitoring yourself.  With headphones covering your ears, blissfully unaware of the pair that walked in.

Rather than interrupting you, he allows the viewers to focus on you for a while. Your concentrated face filling up the screen as the camera zoomed in. Watchers could slightly hear some funny narrations on behalf of Ni-ki in the background, some teasing, some in awe. 

Once you’re done checking for mistakes and errors you slowly get up to get started again. As you look at yourself in the mirrors it is exactly when you finally recognize the two figures watching behind you.

“Hey guys, what are you up to?” you questioned, being oblivious to the fact that he was filming that day.

“Nothing much, you should introduce yourself.” he urges as he and the camera man make their way over to you. 

As you’re giving a little rundown about yourself and what you’re currently working on, Ni-ki stares at you, listening intently to your words.  

Fans are definitely questioning the longing gaze he’s giving you at this point but not really going batshit insane about it.

It’s not until he’s done interviewing (teasing) you when they go berserk . As he begins to leave, he kisses you right on the lips smack-dab in the middle of the camera. The giggles of the camera man could be quietly heard in the background.

HELLO???

RUE. WHEN WAS THIS??

okay but who’s actually surprised 

^ME????

i could actually cry tears of joy

literally the best day of my life

To their surprise, you aren’t utterly shocked by his actions of kissing you in front of the camera because the both of you believed that you were being quite obvious the entire time. Considering the fact that you guys became a “dynamic duo” specifically after working together, you thought that it was all laid out for your fans.

Who knew that the lack of PDA and cutesy nicknames made people this oblivious.

Later on after the live is over, your fans expect some sort of explanation or announcement but… theres absolutely nothing! No bold instagram post or confirming tweet in sight.

I was not lying when I said you guys were pretty behind the scenes in terms of content and your personal lives! 

Which was exactly how it would stay. 

Of course, that didn’t mean you just left people hanging.

In instances such as group photos the two of you were often closely knit, when you went outside together you wouldn’t wear any masks or restricting hats and would wave at fans in passerby. 

Even in other artists behind the scenes content if the two of you were involved, a lot of the time fans could see the two of you conversing in the background. 

And every blue moon in a random photo-dump there would be one, MAYBE even two photos of you guys included.

You guys were private yes, but not secret!

masterlist ★彡

taglist: @ashirp @ninistranaut

[golbrocklovely]

crave // sam and colby

A/N: sorry for posting this so late. had to finish up a few things on it, and i'm super tired so it kinda took me a while. this fic was a lot of fun to write, and if you squint it's sort of a sequel to "our girlfriend" (but not actually). lmk what you think and happy haunting :)

prompt: snc are vamps, but they need to keep their secret under wraps. they ask you, their long time best friend, to come out with them on tour to be their blood donor. what could go wrong? || AU!vampire!sam and colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, but no actual sex, just a lot of dirty talk/description, snc are vampires, mentions of blood, biting, blood drinking (from both parties), their blood makes you horny, cursing, petnames mentioned: baby girl, sweetheart, darling, good girl, ours, deception, possibly some dubcon so just be weary of that if that's not your thing, but don't worry… it's all a dream…. or is it???

word count: 5428

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was odd having vampires for friends while being a human. Odd, but interesting.

Sam and Colby had been my friends since they moved out to LA, and it felt like we knew each other longer than that. We grew close almost instantly, telling each other some of our deepest secrets within the first few days of knowing one another. Then one day, they told me they were vampires. Of course I didn’t take them seriously; I mean who would? Vampires aren’t real.

I soon learned very quickly that they were when I caught one of the boys drinking from a girl at a party.

Eventually I came around to the idea. I mean, vampires are pretty cool, so knowing my best friends were ones was kind of awesome. Especially since that lead to so many other questions of what else is out there.

Sam and Colby weren’t much help in that department. They only knew that they were changed right before moving to LA. They didn’t know by who or why, but they learned to accept it and embrace it quickly. Everything new that they learned about themselves and their kind, they told me.

They were scared, however, that one day their secret would come out. A very small number of people knew about their... abilities. Vampires weren’t known to the broader world yet, and they definitely didn’t want to be the first to come out.

It was getting harder to hide their secret as they grew more and more successful. More eyes were on them. And then they told me about how they planned to go on a tour, meeting as many fans as possible across the US. I was excited for them, but was a little nervous. They deserved all the love that they were getting from their fans, but hiding their true identity wasn't going to be easy on tour.

But then, they asked me something I would have never expected.

“Would you go on tour with us as our... blood donor?” Colby asked, unable to keep eye contact with me.

I raised an eyebrow at him and Sam, “...What?”

“Okay, so... usually when we go out of the country or whatever, we’re able to secure a donor, or even blood bags from local hospitals. But because we are going to every state, sometimes twice, it’s hard to do that without people growing suspicious. And while we could go feed on people, we might get caught. So we were wondering if maybe you would want to go on tour with us and... we would drink from you instead.” Sam explained, fidgeting slightly in his chair.

Colby chimed in, “Of course you can say no. But if you do it, we would 100% compensate you, however you want. We know you’re busy with your career as well, but we promise to pay you well. And of course get you your own hotel rooms and food.”

“Everything would be paid for. And you would really be doing us a solid.” Sam added.

“What would my position be for those that ask?” I questioned, crossing my arms.

“You’d be our second assistant, since we already have one. Plus, we would just let anyone know that you’re our friend joining us to meet fans.” Sam answered.

“Hmm..." I asked, lowering my voice, "Does it hurt? Being... fed on?”

“The initial bite can feel like being pricked with a needle. But afterwards, it shouldn’t be bad.” Sam remarked.

Colby commented, "Plus we would give you our blo-"

Sam smacked him in the arm, glaring, "Dude, how about we ease into that conversation?"

"You would give me your blood? To what?" I queried.

They both paused, "...Drink."

I narrowed my eyes, "Humans can drink vampire blood?"

"Yes. And apparently they like it. A lot." Colby laughed.

Sam smirked, "He dated a girl once that got really into his blood. So much so she stalked him for it."

"Jesus," I mumbled. "Wait, was that-?"

"Ashley, yeah." Colby nodded.

I gasped, "Oh my god, I thought she was just crazy."

"Well, she was. Off of vampire blood." Sam chuckled.

"Our blood can give a euphoric feeling to the person that drinks it. So sometimes people react to it like it’s a drug." Colby mentioned.

Sam continued, "But it heals you, which is why we give it in the first place. If we drink from you, you drink ours."

"So... will you do it? Be our blood donor?" Colby asked, a nervous smile on his lips.

I took a minute, weighing the pros and cons in my mind. I exhaled, nodding, "Sure."

Both of them grinned excitedly. "Thank you, Y/N. You have no idea how much this helps us."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

The tour began a couple days later, all of us meeting at the airport and flying to our first stop, New York City. The meet and greet, sponsored by Zumiez, was being held in a large theater. It was gorgeous and very spacious. The nice thing was that I got my own little dressing room, filled with snacks and anything else I had requested. I was surprised at how weirdly relaxing my day had been, having just sat around and worked on a few things for my actual job.

Sam and Colby hadn't fed on me yet, and I was getting worried. How often do they need to drink? Are they both going to do it at once? Is it actually going to hurt? What-?

A soft knock at my door brought me out of my thoughts. I walked over to the door, opening it slowly. Sam stood, leaning against the door frame. "Can I come in?"

I nodded, opening the door more for him. "What's up?"

"Would you be okay with me drinking from you now? I know it's kind of last minute, but I promise next time I'll give you more of a heads up. Or maybe we could make a schedule or something." He laughed awkwardly.

"Can I ask some questions before we do it?" I requested, sitting down on the couch.

He agreed, leaning against the vanity across from me. "Of course. Whatever you want to know."

"How often do you guys need to drink?" I questioned.

"Once a day is usually our go to. More sometimes if we're really hungry or if we skipped a day." He admitted plainly.

"Do you both have to drink from me simultaneously?" I continued.

Sam shook his head, "No. If anything, it's better that we do it separately, especially since this is the first time you're having someone feed off of you."

"So Colby is gonna feed off of me later?" I asked, relaxing back against my seat.

"Maybe. He might skip today and feed tomorrow. That's what he was thinking of doing. He's a bit stronger than me when it comes to..." Sam cleared his throat, "urges."

"Oh... Have you guys ever... you know?" I mimed slicing my throat, killing someone.

He gaped at me, "My God no. We know how to stop before it ever gets to that point. The last thing we want to do is kill someone. So you don't need to worry. Plus, too much human blood makes us high."

"Really?" I snorted.

"Yeah. We only learned that from a random vampire we met in Vegas, so it might be a lie. We haven't exactly tested that theory." He commented.

"Okay..." I exhaled, "I think I'm ready."

He walked towards me, smiling politely. "Alright. Come here."

I slowly stood up, stepping towards him. He placed his hands on my waist, holding me in place.

He locked eyes with me, "If it hurts, you tell me and I'll stop, okay?"

"Yes sir." I saluted teasingly.

His face dropped, "I'm serious, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you. Neither of us do."

"I know. I appreciate the concern." I sighed, "Just drink."

He nodded, cupping one side of my face gently. He turned my head so my neck was more exposed. He lowered his head into my throat, breathing me in for a moment. My heart skipped a beat, confused and overwhelmed. I hadn't realized how intimate this was going to be.

Suddenly, he opened his mouth, sinking his fangs in. I winced, grabbing his forearms to steady myself. He took a gulp of my blood, a very quiet moan falling from his lips. I could feel my blood leave my body, my life draining gradually. My legs began to go limp, unable to hold up my body weight. Sam caught me, pressing me closer into his warm embrace. He grunted, pulling his mouth away, licking up the excess blood that spilt from the bite.

"Are you okay, Y/N? Talk to me." He held my face, making me focus on him.

I slurred my words a bit, "I feel... okayyyy."

"Here, let's sit you down and give you some of my blood." Sam walked me to the couch, placing me down. He sat behind me, leaning me against him. He bit into his wrist, blood gushing from it. "Drink, Y/N."

He pressed his wrist to my mouth, forcing my lips to open. I tasted his blood, grimacing at the taste. But suddenly, it tasted amazing. Like everything sweet I had ever had rolled into one. I wrapped my lips over his bite, drinking from him quickly. I had never been this thirsty for something before in my life. It was like being on the brink of dehydration and finding a whole bottle of water. I placed my hands on the back of his arm, needing him more in my mouth.

"There you go, baby girl. Drink up." Sam cooed, rubbing my hair softly.

I moaned against him, my body buzzing. My one hand dropped down onto his thigh, gripping it. Erotic thoughts crowded my mind, another groan leaving my mouth.

He pulled his arm away, sitting me up instantly. "That's enough, Y/N. Don't want to get you high."

I felt a whine fall from my lips, embarrassment heating up my cheeks as I realized what I did. "Oh, um, shit. My bad, Sam. Sorry."

"No, you're okay," he assured me, standing up. "I've heard it's hard for humans to stop once they've started, so we kinda have to yank you away from us."

I could suddenly feel my damp underwear press against me, my face burning up more. "I-I get it. Thanks for doing that. It felt like I couldn't stop. A-Are you okay?"

"Yeah, already healed." He showed his wrist, the bite gone. "Make sure to drink plenty of water and eat something. You'll probably actually feel hungry soon."

I pursed my lips. "Thanks. I'll make sure to do that."

Sam took a few steps towards the door, stopping abruptly. He spun back, his eyes wide. "Oh my God, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you something!"

I blinked, "What?

"Having our blood in your system... it might make you dream about us." He stated.

I chuckled, "Wait really? That's weird."

"Yeah. But um... the dreams might be a bit on the... sexual side?" He grimaced.

My face dropped, "What."

"That's what some people, girls, have said to us in the past," he mentioned. "I don't know if it's true, but it can happen. So I just want you to be aware."

I mumbled, "Would have been nice to know about this beforehand..."

Sam replied, his expression softened. "I apologize, really. It just slipped my mind. I haven't drank from someone directly in a while so I totally forgot."

"Hey, it's alright. It's just a dream." I added, "It might not even happen."

He grinned, "Exactly."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

It happened.

It very much happened.

The dream itself was odd, all over the place, and I barely remembered any of it. All I knew was that I woke up hot, sweating, and aching to be fucked. By specifically Sam. That, tied with literally soaking my underwear as he drank from me.... I was not excited to keep this job up.

Even if the pay was phenomenal.

But maybe things would get easier. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after we got into a routine.

The next day they told me that they would make sure to have one of them only feeding on me once a day, that was I wasn't 'overworked'. Sam would go on even days, Colby on odds. And today was odd.

It was midday, the boys already a couple hours into their meet and greet. I waited backstage in a small hallway, scrolling through Instagram. Colby hadn't drank from me, and I wondered if he even planned to.

I heard footsteps coming towards me, heavy on the heel. I looked up and spotted Colby. He gave me a light smile, growing closer to me.

"Hey, are you okay? Shouldn't you be out on stage meeting fans?" I questioned, squinting at him.

"We are. We're taking a ten minute break." He responded, pressing his back against the wall by me.

"Oh, that's good. You guys have been at it for..." I checked my watch, "Four hours, wow."

Colby interrupted, "I know this is last minute to ask you, but can I... get a drink?"

"Right here? Now?" I pointed to the hallway.

"Yeah. No one is coming down this hallway. Security is making sure of that." He stated firmly.

I lowered my voice, "Do they know?"

"Of course." He bit his lip, "I'm sorry to do this right now, but I'm worried if I wait until after, I might... snap, on someone."

My eyes widened, "Oh... We wouldn't want that."

"No, we would not." He laughed nervously.

"Um, yeah. Go ahead." I stood up, taking a deep breath as I looked at him.

"Here, put your hands on my shoulders. I don't want you to fall over." He directed.

"Okay." I giggled, doing what he said. He lightly placed his hands on my hips, pushing closer to me. I did my best not to shudder, his closeness making my heart erratic. I turned my neck towards the wall, feeling his breath fan across my skin. I inhaled, and felt his teeth sink in quickly. I gasped, the pain lasting for a moment. I cupped his shoulders hard as he drank from me, slowly draining my blood into himself. He hummed, his hands slipping up my back and pulling me in deeper. I sighed, pleasure taking over my senses.

It felt good to have Colby this close, to feel him drink from me. That thought alone made my heart skip.

Colby pulled away, looking at me hesitantly, "Are you okay? I heard your heart stop for a second."

"Wha? Yeah, I'm fine." I could feel my hands tremble, "I think I forgot to breathe."

"Well, take some of my blood." He bit his wrist, pushing it towards me.

"I don't know, I think I'm okay." I argued half-heartedly.

"Drink, Y/N. Don't be stubborn." Colby smirked playfully at me.

I glared back sassily, leaning towards his bite. I placed my mouth on it as he pressed it further into my mouth. His hand rested softly on my side as my body turned into him, my back pressing against his front. As I spun, his hand drifted lower, touching the top of my thigh.

I sucked his blood down, the sweetness driving me crazy immediately. It was different from Sam's, but just as addictive. He chuckled deeply at my eagerness, allowing me to wrap my hands around his arm to keep him close.

"It's okay darling. Drink up. I'm not going anywhere." He whispered low.

My blood raced at his words, a whimper falling from my lips. I could feel it again, the ache between my legs. But this time I didn't care. All I could think about was his blood, or his cock. And both were making me wet.

He pulled back suddenly, a 'pop' noise echoing off the fluorescent lighted walls from my mouth. "Y/N, while I would allow you to drink from me for forever, I gotta get back."

"I-I-I," I took a deep breath, getting my bearings again, "Yeah. That's, um, probably for the best."

"Are you okay? Do you need me to stay with you?" He questioned, looking me over.

"No. Go ahead. I'll be alright." I confirmed.

He pressed his forehead against mine sweetly, "Hey, I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner about the whole dream thing. How was it last night? Did you dream of Sam?"

I stepped back, blushing. "N-No. No, I didn't. I honestly can't remember my dream."

He beamed, "Well that's good. Maybe it will be the same tonight."

I nodded. "Hopefully."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

We were over a week into this arrangement and I felt like I was losing my mind.

Every day one of them was feeding on me, and every night I had a dirty dream about them. It didn't matter if I only had a sip of their blood or a lot. If their blood was in my system, I was dreaming about them fucking me senseless. And that's all I wanted. I couldn't even look at them without feeling like I wanted to rip their clothes off and beg them to fuck me.

It was embarrassing, tormenting, and made me feel insane. And also incredibly hot.

Luckily tonight was our first night off of the tour. We decided to all go out to eat and drink once it got late. Sam and Colby told me that they planned to find someone else to feed on, or possibly hit up a local blood bank, so I could rest easy tonight knowing they weren't going to feed on me.

God knows I needed the break...

Even though Sam and Colby's blood had been out of my system for a day, I still felt this overwhelming urge to fuck them. I couldn't deny that feeling this way left me confused beyond belief. Sure, they were good looking guys, and at times I had thought about kissing them or what it would be like to date them, but I never gave it more than a passing thought. But now all I could think about was them inside of me, taking me and doing what they wan-

No. No. No. Not tonight. Tonight I would relax, unwind, and drink.

And I did just that. I drank, and drank, and drank. The world felt a little off balance, a bit too spinny for my liking. I leaned against the wall of the bar, staring at the dance floor lights.

Sam sauntered over to me, "Heyyy, Y/N. You okay?"

"I'm Gucci, my dude," I snickered. I pointed at his drink, "Wait, vampires can get drunk?"

"Oh yeah. Especially since we didn't drink tonight." He admitted, then laughed. “Did you think we were acting all those times you saw us at parties plastered?”

"What really? I thought you guys planned to get some from..." I waved my hand around, "somewhere."

"We were, but it was a bust. Or our connection fell through." He shrugged it off, "But don't worry, we'll figure it out."

"I mean... you could always drink from me." I responded, ignoring the dull ache in my stomach.

He shook his head, "No, no. This is your night off. You deserve it. Don't worry about us."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Are you sure?"

"Of course, Y/N." He confirmed.

Colby stumbled over to us, saying something in Sam's ear. "Hey, we're gonna head back to the hotel. You ready to leave?"

"Actually... yeah. I think I've drank enough tonight." I giggled, walking through the crowd to the exit with Sam and Colby.

"Well, if you need to sober up a bit, our blood could help." Colby stated.

I huffed, "It's my night off."

"...From being drank from," Colby chuckled. "But if you want our blood, you can have some. Take your pick."

I glanced at the both of them, sighing. "How about we wait until we're back at the hotel, yeah? Then I'll figure that out."

The ride home was tense, or at least it was for me. I felt like both boys were looking at me, waiting for me to make my choice. My skin grew hot under their stare, the ache coming back again.

C'mon. This was supposed to be my one night off.

Entering the hotel, the boys locked arms with me gently, helping me to the elevator.

I smiled lazily, "You don't need to help me. I'm not that drunk."

"Really? You sure about that?" Sam smirked.

"Trust me." I mumbled, "I sobered up in the car."

“Well that's good. But you should still have some of our blood.” Colby persisted.

The elevator 'dinged' softly, the doors opening slowly. I walked down the hallway towards my room, the boys following right behind me. I pulled out my key card, swiping it and yanking open my door.

I whined, trying to pull my shoes off to no avail. "Remind me to never get drunk in heels again. It sucks." I flopped down on the bed, groaning into the cover.

"So, do you want us to leave? We can always do this in the morning." Sam asked.

I picked my head up, "No, it's okay. I'll be honest, I still haven't made a decision about who to drink from."

"Well take a second if you want to." Colby spoke.

"There's no need." I sat up, turning to them. "I don't want to do it out of order so... drink from me first."

He frowned. "What? No, it's your day off."

"It's fine, Colby. I know it is, but you guys didn't eat... drink, today." I assured him.

Colby looked over at Sam accusingly, and he shrugged. "I accidentally let it slip."

"You usually are a blabbermouth when you're drunk." I teased.

Colby shook his head, "We'll be fine."

"I mean... maybe we should drink, if she's okay with it." Sam argued lightly.

"I am okay with it. Plus, you'll just give me your blood anyway. So then we'll be even." I remarked.

Colby's expression softened, Sam's face matching his. "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this if you don't want to."

"I totally don't mind, guys. Really." I insisted.

Colby paused for a minute, then nodded. "Okay, but we're only taking a little from you."

"That's fine by me." I stood up, swaying back and forth as my lightheadedness faded. The boys placed hands on my back, keeping me from falling.

Sam snorted, "Yeah, we're definitely only taking a little."

They gave each other a glance, Sam sliding towards me first. I gazed at him, snaking my eyes across his face, then tilted my head back.

His voice came out in a husky whisper, "Aren't you eager..."

I rolled my eyes, "Just do it before I change my-"

My breath hitched, Sam's fangs sinking deep into my skin. I grabbed his arms, bracing myself as he drank from me. He grunted lowly, his body firmly against mine.

I peered out of the corner of my eye, watching Colby watch us. He studied my face, taking in my expression. My eyes fluttered as Sam pulled away, stopping much sooner than he usually would.

"Fuck... I needed that." He wiped his mouth, making sure to lick the excess blood off his hand. My core throbbed at his actions. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. "Your turn, Colby."

He locked eyes with me, "You good?"

I stammered, "S-Sure. Go ahead."

"Let me know if it's too much, okay?" He uttered.

I nodded, moving my head to the other side and allowing him access. He lowered his mouth onto my neck, biting softly. I exhaled, my hands holding onto his arms. He took a few sips from me, then pulled back. "Wait, let me get a better angle."

I squinted at him, confused. He circled around, stopping behind me. His hands slithered to my hips, tugging me closer.

"Much better." He grunted, then sank his teeth into me hastily. I gasped, surprised by the force.

I looked up at Sam, his eyes gazing at us with a devilish glint. He cocked his head to the side, slinking over to us inch by inch. "I think you should take some of my blood now, Y/N. Before you get too light headed."

He bit into his wrist, placing it in front of me. "Drink up."

I leaned forward some, taking his blood into my mouth. I sighed, euphoria hitting me instantly. I had never had one of them drink from me while the other gave me blood. My mind was racing, my heart pounding loudly against my chest. My body in flames from pleasure and pain. And I couldn't tell which one I liked more.

Sam's fangs dazzled in the light as he spoke, "Oh, Colby. We forgot to tell her something again."

Colby released his mouth from my neck, swallowing, "And what could that be Sam?"

Sam's eyes landed on mine, almost empty of feeling, "When you exchange blood like this with us... it makes you ours."

I furrowed my brow at him, keeping my mouth on his wound. My voice came out muffled, "Ours?"

"Yeah. Ours. See, we might have deceived you a little bit." Sam shrugged.

"Our bad." Colby snickered.

"He and I have been into you for a while, Y/N. But we knew you only ever saw us as a friend. Plus, we didn't want to have to fight over you so we thought the best course of action would be to just... make you both of ours." Sam grinned evilly, "And God, you made it so easy. Just following along without question."

Colby pressed his lips against my ear, keeping his voice deep and low. "With our blood running through your system, you will always be ours. You will be just as obsessed with us as we are with you."

My mind and body barely took their words in, the only thing I wanted was more of Sam's blood. My cunt pulsed as his blood invaded my system, my mind only thinking of him and all of the things I wanted him to do to me.

Sam yanked his wrist away, a desperate mewl escaping my mouth.

My mind was foggy, my head catching up to what I just heard. "W-W-What? Are you guys-?"

Colby spun me, pushing me back into Sam. He wrapped his arm around me tight, biting into my neck. Colby did the same to his wrist, placing my mouth on it. I grunted against him, glaring at him for a moment before all of my anger melted into pure bliss.

Colby's blood mixed with Sam's... and suddenly I wanted nothing more than for both of them to take me. God I could almost feel them inside of me, touching me in all the right spots.

"There you go, baby. Such a good girl for us." Colby smirked.

Sam pulled his mouth away, just to place it against the hollow of my ear, "Our good girl."

I could feel some of my mind come back to me for a split second. I hissed against Colby's wrist, "Fuck you."

He scoffed, "Sweetheart, you can say that all you want, but I know deep down you don't mean it. Well, you don't mean it in that way."

"Don't lie to us, baby girl." Sam sang angrily, latching his mouth back onto my bite.

"You know how we know that? I've heard you every night of this tour moan our names in your sleep. I've heard the way you whimper and cry and beg for us to fuck you when you touch yourself," Colby growled, his eyes intense as they bore into mine. "Don't deny it, Y/N.

Sam yanked back his mouth as Colby pulled his wrist away. I panted, keeping my distance from them and pressing myself against the desk. They stared me down, taking me in like prey.

My legs were shaking, my body tingling everywhere. I felt like I was on fire from the inside out. I had never been so wet in my entire life. I wanted to scream at them, to hate them, to tell them to leave. But everything in my head and body were begging them to stay; to touch me.

Sam stepped towards me, closing the gap between us, "You're ours, Y/N. Doesn't that sound amazing? To be shared by us?"

I couldn't help but nod my head. I wanted to deny it, but it wasn't true.

"No one else can have you like this. Only us." Sam whispered into my ear, turning my head gently to look at him. He leaned in and kissed me deeply, taking my breath away with the feverish kiss. My hand dug into his shirt, holding on it as his tongue tasted mine.

I was ripped away from his kiss as Colby pushed himself against me. He cupped my face, rolling my head towards him. "Only us," he stated. He pressed his lips to mine, his mouth and tongue tender against my own. I whined as I felt Sam begin to kiss my neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin. I could hear him murmur 'ours' over and over again.

Colby removed his mouth from mine, following Sam's lead in kissing and nipping at my neck and body. I was overwhelmed, my chest rising and falling rapidly. I squeezed my eyes shut, still feeling Sam and Colby snake up and down my body with their hands and mouths. A breathy groan escaped my lips, my mind unable to slow down. If they touched the right spot, I would completely come undone.

I needed them. I wanted them. I would do anything for them.

The sound of silence fell over the room. Then, a low ringing took over my hearing. Soon it grew louder and louder and louder. I popped my eyes open, gasping.

I was in my hotel room, and it was bright outside. The ringing was my alarm on my phone going off - 9:30 A.M.

I sat up, my head weighing a thousand pounds. I was in my clothes from the night before, but tucked comfortably into bed.

How the fuck did I get here? Where the hell were Sam and Colby?

It suddenly dawned on me - Oh my God, that was a dream?

There's no way. That felt too real. That can't be right.

I changed quickly, knowing that Sam and Colby would be waiting for me in the lobby so we could travel to the next venue. I never unpacked, so I threw my dirty clothes in my suitcase, and trudged out the door with everything I had brought.

I stumbled down to the lobby, finding Sam and Colby waiting off to the side for me with their luggage. Their assistant was talking to them, along with someone from Zumiez's team, about the upcoming meet and greet.

Colby beamed when he saw me, "Hey, we were wondering if you were gonna make it."

"What happened last night?" I glared.

Sam turned at the sound of my voice, "Do you not remember...?"

"Just tell me what happened. Please." I answered, short.

Colby inhaled, "Well, we planned to... continue drinking in your room. But once we got there, you flopped on your bed and passed out."

"We figured you were too tired after all the traveling and drinking that we just decided to call it a night." Sam added.

Colby commented, "I took your shoes off before tucking you in. I know you hate falling asleep with heels on."

"Oh." I vaguely remembered falling onto my bed. And my shoes were off when I woke up… "I could have sworn something else happened."

Colby gasped lowly, "Did you have a dream about us?"

I immediately blushed, "Um, you could say that."

"What was it about? Tell me." He pleaded.

"I don't think you want to know, to be honest. I squirmed under their gaze, doing my best to ignore the parts of the dream my body couldn't forget. "It was kind of all over the place. And you guys were a bit... mean, to say the least."

"Oh, shit. Well, sorry that my dream self was an asshole to you." Colby apologized.

Sam agreed, "Ditto."

I half smiled, exhaling. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Y/N. You're our..." Sam smiled, "best friend. We would never be mean to you."

"Unless you want us to be, of course." Colby taunted, a mischievous look in his eye.

[usomads]

Dripping // Will Ospreay x Reader

Author’s Note -> Been sitting on this idea for a while but I moved states so I had to put it on pause– figured I’d use it as a little bit of a palate cleanser before jumping into more requests! And who better than my fav 🥰 first AEW one shot too! Lmk what you think and, as always, happy reading! 🙂‍↕️

Pairings -> Will Ospreay x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Cursing, Slight angst, Blood play, Nipple Play, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.6k

‼️Trigger Warning: Blood‼️

You were snapped out of your trance by Will slamming open the locker room door, the sharp sound echoing through the halls of the backstage area. His face is a mess of dried blood and sweat, a nasty cut on his temple leaking fresh crimson. His chest rises and falls with labored breaths and his hair is damp with a mixture of sweat and blood, clinging to his forehead in wild curls. You’ve been waiting in his locker room to tend to him, first aid kit in hand, but the intensity radiating from the man freezes you where you stand.

He brushes past you, throwing a blood-stained towel onto the bench with a frustrated sigh. You can’t help but watch as he rakes his fingers through his hair, his movements sharp. Every muscle in his body is taut, his frustration from his match practically radiating off of him. You attempt to speak but before you can do that he spins around, his piercing eyes locking onto you.

“You just going to stand there?” he snaps, his voice low and full of grit.

You swallow hard, clutching the first aid kit tightly. The air feels thick, his anger palpable, yet despite the warning in his tone you’re drawn to him. Maybe even because of it.

“I came to check on you,” you manage to say, your voice softer than intended. His eyes narrow, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath his anger– curiosity, or maybe, challenge.

“I’m fine, Y/N,” he growls, turning away from you to grab the towel again. He roughly wipes at his face, but all it does is smear the blood further, leaving streaks of red down his cheeks and neck.

“Doesn’t look like it,” you reply, surprising yourself with the firmness in your tone. You set down the first-aid kit and cross the room to him, stopping just out of arm's reach. He stiffens, but doesn’t move away.

Up close, you notice every detail: the bruises forming along his knuckles, the tension in his jaw as he grits his teeth, the way his chest heaves with every breath. The blood on his face only sharpens his already striking features, and the raw energy radiating from him sends a shiver down your spine. 

“You’re gonna need stitches, Will,” you say, pointing to the gash on his temple.

“I said I’m fine,” he snaps again, though his voice lacks the same venom as before. He turns to face you fully, his green eyes locking onto yours. “Why are you still here?”

You hesitate, searching for the right words, but all you can think about is how disheveled and angry and utterly captivating he looks. Against all rhyme and reason, the sight of him like this– raw, unguarded– sparks something within you.

“Maybe because you look like you could use someone who isn’t scared to tell you the truth,” you respond, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

He blinks hard, caught off guard for a moment, before a smirk tugs at his lips– a sharp, dangerous thing that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that so?” he challenges.

You nod, stepping closer. “Yeah.. and the truth is, you’re an absolute fuckin’ mess, but…” Your eyes linger on the blood streaked across his face, your pulse racing as you meet his gaze once more. “It suits you.”

For a moment his anger dissipates, replaced by something darker– something more calculated. His eyes flicker down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The air between you feels electric, the tension sharp enough to cut through.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with warning. “You might not like where that talk gets you.”

You swallow hard but hold your ground. “Maybe I do,” you say, the words out before you can stop yourself.

His smirk deepens and, for a moment, the frustration and exhaustion in his posture seems to melt away, replaced by pure intrigue. He steps closer, close enough that you can feel his heat radiating off of him, and tilts his head slightly. The cut on his forehead is still bleeding, but he doesn’t seem to notice– or care.

“Is that so?” he retorts, his voice a low rumble. His hand twitches at his side, almost like he’s debating whether or not to close the distance.

You don’t flinch, your eyes never leaving his. “It is.”

Neither of you move. The tension is thick, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. Then, as if to test you, he leans in, his voice dropping lower.

“You’re playing with fire, love,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. 

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Maybe I like the burn.” 

For the first time since he stormed in, his gaze softens, just slightly, and the corners of his mouth twitch in what might almost be a real smile. The anger in his eyes has faded, replaced by something more complex– something that feels like a reward and a challenge all at once.

“You’re something else,” he mutters, shaking his head slightly as he finally takes a step back and sits on the bench. But the way his eyes linger tells you he’s far from dismissing you.

As he grabs the towel again and starts wiping at his face, you silently grab the first-aid kit from the counter. He doesn’t stop you this time as you step forward, your fingers brushing against his hand as you take the towel away.

“Let me,” you whisper softly, and for once, he doesn’t argue.

He glances up, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you thought you saw something soften, but then his jaw tightened and he leaned back, gesturing to his face. “Do what you’ve gotta do.”

You stepped closer, tilting his chin slightly to get a better look at the wound. The proximity makes your breath hitch– he was even more striking this close, his intensity nearly overwhelming.

“This might sting,” you warn, dabbing a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic on the cut.

He hissed through his teeth, his hand twitching before gripping the edge of the bench. “Bloody hell, Y/N, you trying to kill me?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t be dramatic. You’ve been through worse.”

His gaze flicked to you, a hint of amusement breaking through. “You’ve been watching my matches, then?”

You falter for a moment, the teasing in his voice catching you off guard. “It’s part of the job,” you reply, focusing on cleaning the wound to avoid his eyes.

“Right,” he drawled, his tone dripping with skepticism. “And I’m guessing you just happened to be watching tonight?”

Your cheeks heat up, but you keep your composure. “Like I said, it’s my job.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know.”

“Hiding what?” you asked, feigning ignorance as you reached for the bandages.

“The way you’re looking at me,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Like you don’t know whether to patch me up or pin me down.”

Your hand freezes mid-air, his words sending a jolt of electricity through you. You glanced over at him, meeting his gaze, and found his smirk snugly in place. The anger he’d walked in with had been replaced by something smug, something dangerous. 

“Careful, Will,” you tease, trying to keep your voice steady as you press gauze on his cut. “You’re not as charming as you think.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you. “Is that right? Because judging by the color of your cheeks, I’d say I’m doing alright.”

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to back down. “You should save that energy for the ring,” you shoot back, your voice tinged with amusement.

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “Why waste it on a crowd when I’ve got you right here?” 

The air between you cracked with tension, the lines of professionalism blurring with every passing second. You step back slightly, needing space to catch your breath, but he didn’t let you off the hook so easily. 

“You’re good at this,” he says, nodding towards your handiwork. “But I can’t tell if you’re more interested in fixing me up or staring me down.”

“Maybe both,” you say before you can stop yourself, the words slipping out in a moment of boldness.

His eyes darkened, the teasing smile on his lips turning into something more serious. “You’ve got a dangerous mouth on you, don’t you, love?”

“Only when it’s deserved,” you reply, your voice soft but steady.

He stood to his feet, towering over you, his presence making the room feel smaller. “And do I deserve it?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken intent. You didn’t answer– not with words, anyway. Instead, you let the tension carry you forward, your hand brushing against his chest as you tilt your head up.

His lips were on yours before you could think twice, the kiss fierce and demanding. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as the world around you disappears. Your professionalism, your carefully crafted boundaries– all of it melted away in the heat of the moment.

When you finally break apart, your breath comes in short gasps, and his forehead rests against yours.

“Still think I’m not as charming as I think?” he murmured, his voice low.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw– a small amount of his blood collecting on your index finger. You gaze into his eyes as you bring your finger to your lips, the metallic taste hitting your tongue and drawing a low moan from your throat. “You’re getting there.”

He bites his lip at you, his eyes darkening as he watches you suck on your fingers. “Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.” 

His lips are back on yours in an instant, pulling you into him by your hips as he walks with you to the bench, sitting back down as you climb on top of him. You pull apart again and run your fingers through his sweat and blood clad strands, watching as the cut continues to ooze droplets of fresh crimson.

“You’re still bleeding, Will,” you whisper against his lips.

“You gonna clean me up then, love?” his eyes glimmer up at you, watching you closely as if to dare you to make a move.

And you do, bringing your lips to his temple and pressing a soft kiss to the wound, a low growl emanating from his throat. Your tongue pokes past your lips and licks a stripe along the cut, collecting the liquid on your tastebuds and pulling back, licking the excess off your lips. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re trouble,” he moans.

“What, can’t handle me?” you smirk at him, cheeks flushed and blood stained on your lips.

“Oh, I can do more than that, love.” he teases.

“Then prove it.” you murmur as you connect your lips once more, moaning into the kiss as his bruised hands ravage your body, digging into your sides as he rocks your hips against his cloth-covered bulge. He hisses at the contact, his lips falling below your ear to nip the sensitive skin, his heavy pants along your earlobe sending chills throughout your body. Your hands move from their resting place on his shoulders to the hem of your shirt, pulling away from him and lifting the material over your head before discarding it somewhere across the room. His hands trail up your spine as he takes you in, his fingers toying with the clasps of your bra before removing it and tossing it to the side. 

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ stunning, Y/N.” His eyes take in your exposed chest and torso, committing the image of you to his memory– the smooth skin of your chest and the way it rises and falls with each breath, your perfectly shaped breasts, even your hardened nipples all being permanently ingrained in his mind. He finds himself gravitated to you, his lips finding the skin along your collarbone and pressing firm kisses to the area– trailing downward to your breasts. His eyes find yours, glazed over in lust, before abruptly wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking hard on the bud. A whispered curse falls from your lips as you arch into his touch, your hips involuntarily grinding into his. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as he groans– while continuing to suck and bite your skin.

Your hands tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the strands as he gives your other nipple some much needed attention– alternating motions of licking, sucking, biting. Before long he’s attempting to flip you over onto your back, but you stop him.

“Let me take care of you, Will. Please..” you whisper against him. He pulls away from your breasts, pressing his forehead against yours.

“And how might you go about doing that?” he asks, but rather than answering his question with words you respond with actions– climbing off of his lap and falling to your knees in front of him, bringing your hands to his thighs and running your fingers slowly over the material. He gets your hint, chuckling darkly at you below him before removing his pants and boxers– his cock springing free and hitting his stomach. You lick your lips at the sight of him before you; he was very well kept, little to no hair along the base leading to a long and thick shaft with prominent veins, which trailed up to his tip– pink and glossy in his arousal. 

“Go on then, love,” he coaxes you, forcing you to look up at him through your lashes, “take care of me.” You nod, wrapping your fingers around him, leaning down to press your lips to his tip with a soft kiss and collecting his precum on your tongue before replacing it with your spit– using your hand to lubricate the rest of his cock, pumping him before wrapping your lips around him. He hisses, throwing his head back and placing a hand on your cheek and watching as your lips hollow around him. You suck on the tip, giving kitten licks to the sensitive head as you do, while he curses under his breath and his hand gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail– guiding your head further down his cock.

You make eye contact with him as your mouth goes further down his shaft, your eyes beginning to water the further down you go. He guides you, helping you bob your head on his length as you continue hollowing your cheeks on him and dragging your tongue along the veins of his cock.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re so fuckin’ good at this…” he moans out loud, giving you the confidence to relax your jaw and take him in your throat. He grunts as the tightness of your throat squeezes his cock, his hips involuntarily bucking in your mouth. Tears slowly stream down your cheeks as you take him, gagging occasionally on his cock as he fucks your throat. You look up at him once more, eyes watery, as he watches his cock slide in and out of your throat.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re fucking incredible, baby. Taking me so well.” he groans as you come up for air, stroking him as you move to his balls, sucking them and taking them in your mouth. Your thighs squeeze together at his words, feeling your own arousal pooling in your panties as you pleasure him. He notices, however, and brings a hand to your chin– lifting your head up to look at him.

“It’s my turn, love. Come lay down for me, yeah?” You rise to your feet, climbing back on top of him and kissing him, the taste of him still sitting on your tongue. He flips the two of you, your back laying on the bench as he positions himself between your thighs and hooking his calloused fingers in the waistband of your leggings, pulling both your leggings and panties off of you in one motion. Your pussy glitters before him, soaking wet in your need for him and dripping off your thighs. 

“Bloody hell, you’re fuckin’ soaked, love. Who did all this, hmm?” he teases.

“Will, please–”

“Uh, uh, answer me, Y/N...” he threatens gently.

“Fuck, Will… you did. Now plea–” A gasp from your throat interrupts you as Will licks a stripe along your folds, groaning as he tastes your wetness.

“So fuckin’ sweet…” he murmurs, placing wet kisses along your opening and up towards your clit, now red and swollen– begging to be touched. His lips wrap harshly around the bud, using his tongue to play with it as his fingers dipped into your folds and teased your entrance. He gently pushes two inside, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels your walls squeeze around them, thrusting deep inside you– curling his fingers enough to brush lightly against your g-spot, making your eyes squeeze shut and the fingers that were again tangled in his hair to gently pull.

“F–fuck, Will… I–”

“Yeah? Feels good, hmm?”

“Mmm, please…”

“Use your words, Y/N. Tell me what you need, baby.” he mutters against you.

“F–fuck me, p–please…” you whined, “I– I need you.”

Will doesn’t hesitate, lifting his head and pulling his fingers out of you, cleaning them with his tongue as he climbs on top of you. His hand grips the base of his cock and teases your entrance, watching your brows furrow as you whimper underneath him– begging him to do something, anything. 

“I’m gonna absolutely fucking ruin you, Y/N.” he whispers.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you whisper back.

His cock pushes inside you, his length stretching you gloriously. You gasp loudly as he goes deeper, bottoming out inside you as you adjust to his size. He pulls out enough to leave just the tip inside, slamming back into you and gradually increasing his thrusts. The bench creaks underneath you as he gets faster and faster, but it’s the last thing on your mind as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“So… fucking… tight” he grunts with each thrust, your moans matching his as he fucks you. He throws one leg over his shoulder and pounds you hard, the new angle allowing the tip of his cock to directly hit your g-spot over and over again.

You can’t control the moans and cries falling from your lips, the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the right ways making you spiral out of control. You are at his mercy, at his will, and there is nothing you can do about it.

You feel something fall onto your cheek, causing you to come back to reality for a second as you look up at him and notice the gash on his forehead is still dripping blood– less than before, but still bleeding nonetheless. He notices too, watching as his blood drips onto your face and stains your skin. He brings his head to your cheek, licking it clean and locking your lips once more, allowing you to taste him on his tongue before pulling away and pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re all mine, understand? Got my blood on your tongue, blood on your face, and now I’m gonna fill this pretty cunt full of my cum…” he grunts in your ear, his hips snapping into yours at a dangerously delicious pace, “I’m going to consume you, love. Tell me who you fucking belong to, Y/N.”

“Y–you, Will. I’m yours, I– oh fuckkk…”

“I feel you, baby… you’re close, huh?” You moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders, making him hiss.

“I’ve got you.. go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” With one last thrust you tighten around him, your vision turning white as you cry out, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as you coat his cock in your juices. He follows you, releasing himself inside you with a groan, filling you completely. For a few moments you both lay there, his body on top of yours, soaking in the ecstasy of your respective orgasms as you collect yourselves until he reluctantly pulls out of you– the mixture of yours and his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. The two of you are still trying to steady your breathing, feeling rocked after what just happened. After a moment, you regain the ability to speak.

“Will...” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Are you finally gonna let me clean that cut now?”

He chuckles, looking at you laid in front of him with a gleam in his eye. 

“Alright, alright, fine. Patch me up, love,” he smiles, “But if I get to fuck you like that every time, don’t be surprised if I start doing this,” he gestures to the cut on his forehead, “on purpose.”

You laugh, shaking your head at him while getting up off the bench and walking to grab the first aid kit– but not before getting a harsh smack to your ass. You gasp, turning around to face him as he puts his hands up in surrender.

“What?” he laughs, “I never said I was gonna make it easy for you.” He winks, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back in to straddle his lap. God, this is going to be a long night.

[iloveelvisss]

A Series of Unfortunate Events

When the Queen divorces the King

Pairing: 70s!Elvis x Wife!Reader

Summary: Elvis’ wife of seven years has had enough, and Elvis can’t fathom that.

Warnings/Triggers: Angst, Yelling, Arguing, References to past wrongdoings, Assumed Infidelity? References to manipulation, References to sex & lovemaking, Crying, Tears, Divorce Topics. I think that’s all? Lmk if you spot any I need to add.

If Elvis had any form of self preservation left inside his torn soul, he would’ve walked away five minutes ago, and saved himself the humiliation he was about to face. But no, he needed to be here. Right here. Right now. He needed to get her to understand. Get her to grasp where he was coming from.

He was manic, yes, but rightfully so… right? His lil’ satnin was up and leaving him. His button nose was serving him papers, and she just didn’t seem to be swayed, no matter how many ways he tried to go about it.

“Nellie, baby, please. We gotta talk. We can talk this whole thing out like adults.”

He’s grasping at straws. But what else is there to do? He cannot lose his wife. But when she doesn’t answer and continues through the house like he doesn’t even exist, he can’t take it anymore. “Cornelia Presley! Turn yer ass around and speak to me!”

There she is, he thinks, as she stops dead in her tracks— so abruptly that his chest would’ve ran into her back if he hadn’t been foreseeing this— and balls her dainty little hands into fists. He almost thinks she’s going to stomp her foot and throw a tantrum, but that would be below her and her newfound persona of oh so high and mighty Miss Campbell, wouldn’t it? No, instead, she stays facing away— to spite him most likely— and speaks in an octave he doesn’t recognize coming from her cute little mouth, “Talk about what? There ain’t nothin’ left to talk about as far as M’ concerned.”

Oh he’d do something drastic if he were a different man or raised by a different woman. She can’t just speak to him like this. She’s his wife. Elvis put a ring on that finger to accompany her perfectly manicured nails years ago, so therefore, she shouldn’t be able to talk to him in such a manner. But he knows if he goes through with any of the things he’s thinking, it’ll just drive her further away from him. “Ain’t nothin’ to talk about,” he repeats almost like he’s testing her words out in his own mouth, except his tone is incredulous, “maybe the fact that my wife is tryin’ to leave me?!”

She scoffs, and damnit does he want to reach out and spin her around and teach her a lesson. But no, he’s a civilized type of man— a calm man. Or maybe that’s just the mantra he keeps telling himself inside his head so that he doesn’t act on the raging impulse to take her right this second against the wall.

“Elvis, I ain’t ‘tryin’, M’ leavin’. Simple as that. The divorce will be finalized soon, and then we don’t gotta worry ‘bout it no more. We’ll be done.”

Can she not see the pain she’s putting him through? The frustration taking residence on his face? He’s almost convinced she doesn’t even remember what they used to have. The time when it felt like they were literally connected— maybe by a string or some invisible force. He still feels it. That’s why every step she takes closer to that door, makes him want to throw himself at her feet and wrap his arms around her legs to keep her here. Where she belongs. “Ya can’t mean that, lil’ satnin… c’mon, ya’ve made yer scene. Ya have my attention, s’ time to quit this bullshit.”

She shakes her head, her golden little earrings jangling lightly, “It ain’t like that this time. M’ done, really.”

Why does she insist on bruising his already shattered heart?

She walks on, and Elvis swears he feels his heart shatter even more, the loose pieces scraping at his flesh. He has half the mind to throw her over his shoulder and lock her in their bedroom if it would just get her to stop this nonsense. They made promises to each other— vows— and it seems as though she’s more than content to break them.

Elvis trails after her, through the kitchen, up the stairs to their bedroom. Their marriage bed. His eyes zero in on it, and his mind flashes with all the times they’d made love in that same bed. The time their lovemaking created a person. He wants to pull her onto it and make love like the first time, but he doesn’t. He just weakly stands in the doorway and watches as she packs all her possessions into a little bag. He hiccups from holding back a sob.

“Nellie… satnin please,” He tries again, even though he knows in the back of his mind it won’t do him any good if she’s got her mind set on leaving.

She doesn’t respond— of course she doesn’t respond. And he doesn’t even know he’s moving until he’s suddenly right behind her and his hand is snaking around her waist like it did when they were just starting out. Her movements still, and she almost looks like she’s going to spin around and hit him. But she doesn’t, she just stands immobile inside his embrace, letting him rest his chin on her shoulder and stare into her eyes through the mirror atop the dresser. “C’mon, baby girl, I love ya… ya know that,” His hand slowly begins to rub circles on her tummy, and he feels that telltale sign that she likes it when she shivers.

“Come back to me… we can fix this. We can find ourselves, ya know that too, darlin’.”

She closes her eyes, and if the situation were any different, he’d be completely confident it’s because she’s basking in having him like this— having his full attention. That’s all she’s ever wanted, his love, and he never gave into her all the way. But he would now. He’d give up his career— his music— just to keep her and show her that he loves her.

He reaches up and wipes the singular tear from her face and gently kisses the side of her neck.

It almost seems like old times— happier times. If the wrenching feeling of pain and heartbreak wasn’t permeating from both of their very bodies. But she lets it happen. For a moment.

For a moment, Cornelia Campbell is Cornelia Presley again. For a moment, she lets her husband hold her and make all her pain fade to the furthest shelf in her mind. For a moment she doesn’t feel so alone and broken. For a moment everything feels right. For a moment…

Until the series of unfortunate events that brought them to this point comes hurtling to the forefront of her mind like a screetching car. And that final piece of her heart that somehow hadn’t fallen finally makes its way to the other pieces that are shattered and broken. She’d given too much of herself to this marriage. Too much of her heart and soul. And she’d gotten nothing in return except for her gorgeous baby daughter. She was tired. Exhausted and torn, all the turmoil of the last seven years weighing too harshly for her to even fathom staying.

So with an effort that takes all her willpower, she peels herself away from him and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. She doesn’t even look up as she whispers almost inaudibly, “I can’t.”

And she leaves Elvis to stare after her as she takes his heart in her hands and leaves, slamming the door behind her.

There’s a momentary sense of calm— serenity even as the house settles and Elvis is left alone in his cold bedroom. And he stands there, his eyes stuck on the doorway, waiting for her to come back through it and tell him it was all just a bad dream. But she never comes, and then he’s left with the terrible realization that his home is really, truly silent for the first time ever. And so as he slowly sinks down to the soft carpet, he doesn’t even try to be quiet in his grief. He screams, and his tears stream out of his eyes onto the floor, making the carpet wet.

He is alone. He is alone and he only has his actions to blame for it. His lil’ satnin left him and took their baby with her along with his soul.

Heyyy, so I’m sorry for making something so depressing on here, but it was an idea and I had to role with it before I lost all motivation to write it. So here you go! Hope you enjoy <3 (Also, most important question from me to you, would you possibly like a part 2?? Cause I’ll most definitely write one, if that’s something any of you lovies want!)

Tags: @queenstarlight @jhoneybees (lmk if ya wanna be added!)

[pedroscowgirl]

On the run

Abraham x fem!reader || Main masterlist

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI

Mentions of blood, death, walkers, schooting, public sex (?) p in v (wrap it up), breeding kink, creampie, begging, ass slapping, fingering lmk if i forgot something!

Summary: Fucking this big man on the firetruck roof

wc: 1.7k

A/n: I'm not really into gingers but this men does things to me. He's such an underrated daddy. No one's prob even gonna see this but i needed to get this out of my system during my study break <3

You and Abraham were on a supply run together, rumbling through the abandoned streets in the old fire truck. The sun beat down mercilessly, but neither of you minded—survival had long since hardened you to discomfort.

You wore a pair of fitted capri jeans and a snug tank top, practical but still clinging to your frame in a way that made Abraham’s gaze linger when he thought you weren’t looking. As for him, his cargo pants and white tank top did little to hide his broad chest and thick, muscular arms, the fabric straining with every movement.

The two of you had just cleared out a small horde of walkers near an overrun gas station, leaving your clothes splattered with dark, sticky blood. The smell clung to you, metallic and rotten, making your skin crawl. You wiped your hands on your jeans, but it did little to help—just smeared the mess further.

Abraham wiped his knife clean on his pants before sheathing it, then turned to you with that usual confident smirk. "I’ll go look over there for more supplies," he said, jerking his thumb toward the back of the building. "Can you handle bein’ alone for a sec?"

You nodded, rolling your shoulders to shake off the tension. "Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t get yourself killed." His grin widened, and he winked. "Don’t you worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. I can take care of myself."

With that, he strode off, his heavy boots crunching over broken glass. You watched him go for a moment before turning back to the fire truck, swinging open the door and climbing inside. The truck gave you a moment of rest from the oppressive heat, and you exhaled, letting yourself relax for the first time in hours.

You unzipped your bag, going through the contents until your fingers brushed against something soft. Frowning, you pulled it out—a white lace miniskirt, delicate and entirely impractical for the apocalypse. You had no idea why you’d even packed it. Blame it on hormones, you thought with a quiet laugh.

Maybe it was the ovulation talking, or maybe it was just the sheer absurdity of life now—where death lurked around every corner, but human desire never really faded.

Birth control was hard to come by these days, and whenever you and Abe got carried away, he was careful to pull out. Not that you’d mind if he didn’t—not anymore. Alexandria was safe, stable. The idea of a little one running around, with his fiery hair and your stubbornness, wasn’t the worst thought in the world.

You peeled off your blood-soaked jeans, the fabric stiff and clinging unpleasantly to your skin. The lace miniskirt was an impractical choice, but the soft material felt freeing against your thighs.

After a moment of hesitation, you stepped out of the truck, the breeze ghosting over your bare legs as you climbed onto the roof, rifle in hand.

The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the empty streets. You scanned the area, finger resting lightly on the trigger, ready to pick off any walkers that stumbled too close.

Then Abraham’s voice cut through the quiet, rough with amusement.

“Hey! What happened to your pants? You givin’ the walkers a free show now?”

You turned your head, glancing down at him where he stood near the truck, arms crossed over his chest, that familiar smirk playing on his lips.

“No one’s stopping you from watching,” you teased, biting your lip.

He chuckled, deep and warm, shaking his head. “Oh hell, girl, I’m definitely watchin’. But are you tryin’ to get me killed or what? ‘Cuz Goddamn, that’s a nice view. Don’t know how I’m s’posed to focus on walkers like this.”

You grinned, shifting slightly to give him a better angle. “Then come up here. You’ll be safer with me.”

“Ain’t gotta tell me twice, darlin’,” he growled, hauling himself onto the roof in one smooth motion.

The moment he settled beside you, his gaze raked over your body—slow, deliberate—from the hem of your skirt riding up your thighs to the dip of your tank top, where the fabric clung just a little too tight. You noticed, of course, and didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened.

“Come closer, Daddy,” you murmured, voice low.

Abraham didn’t hesitate.

In one swift movement, he closed the distance between you, his calloused hand cradling your face as he crushed his lips to yours. The kiss was hot, all hunger and barely restrained need, but there was something softer beneath it—something that made your chest ache. His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and for a moment, the world faded.

The approaching groans of walkers was long forgotten. All that mattered was the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his mustache against your skin, the way his fingers tightened possessively on your hip.

Until a particularly loud snarl shattered the moment.

Abraham broke the kiss with a rough exhale, resting his forehead against yours. “Damn it not now” he muttered.

You smirked to yourself and turned back to your rifle, settling onto your stomach on the sun-warmed metal of the fire truck’s roof. Abraham’s gaze burned into you—you could feel it, heavy and possessive, tracing every shift of your body.

Deliberately, you arched your back, lifting your ass just a little higher under the pretense of adjusting your aim. “Gotta get a better shot,” you murmured, peering through the scope.

Abraham let out a low, knowing chuckle. “Uh-huh. Real tactical, sweetheart.”

You exhaled, steadying your breath, and pulled the trigger. The walker’s skull snapped back, collapsing into the dirt.

When you glanced over your shoulder, Abraham had already unbuttoned his cargo pants, freeing his cock—thick, heavy, veins standing in stark relief under the fading sunlight. Your mouth watered at the sight.

“Stay on lookout,” he ordered, voice rough.

You turned back to the rifle, pulse hammering, but before you could even pretend to focus, his hands were on you—big, calloused palms squeezing your ass, kneading the soft flesh before dragging your damp underwear aside. A thick finger slid into you without warning, and you gasped, fingers tightening around the rifle.

“Fuck, babe,” he growled, curling his finger just right, making your hips jerk. “Shootin’ walkers get you this wet?”

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as another figure shambled into view. “Abe, I—fuck—I need to—”

“What, you gonna cum already?” he teased, adding a second finger, stretching you deliciously.

You laughed breathlessly, struggling to keep your voice steady. “N-no, I need to kill walkers.”

His breath hit your ear, hot and wicked. “Then let’s see how many you can take down with my dick stuffed inside you.”

Your heart pounded—part thrill, part fear. The risk was intoxicating: the groans of the dead too close, the need to stay silent, conflicting with the way he filled you, ruined you.

And then he was pushing in, slow, letting you feel every inch. Your head dropped forward, a whimper escaping as you fought to keep your aim steady.

“Eyes forward, soldier,” Abraham rumbled, hips flush against you. “Don’t miss.”

His cock was buried so deep inside you, the thick head brushing against your cervix with every slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation was maddening—bliss edged with sweet torture.

A broken moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it, and Abraham’s hand clamped over your mouth, his grip rough but his eyes burning with dark amusement.

"Baby, don’t lure ‘em all here with those dirty sounds," he growled, breath hot against your ear. You nodded, biting your lip as he removed his hand.

He’d never fucked you like this before—agonizingly slow, each drag of his length leaving you trembling. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, your nails digging into your rifle as you whined.

"Need you to go faster, Daddy, or I’ll never cum," you pleaded, voice shaking.

Abraham smirked, the bastard, his hips rolling just hard enough to make you gasp. "Look at you," he murmured, "begging me to fuck you harder while the dead come for us."

You hated how much that thrilled you.

But he gave in, snapping his hips forward with a force that punched the air from your lungs. The sudden pace had you arching, your back pressing against the cold metal of the truck’s roof as he drove into you, relentless. Pleasure coiled tight in your belly, threatening to snap—and then the words spilled out before you could stop them.

"Cum in me, please–I need to feel you, need your warmth inside me. Wanted it so bad for so long–fuck, please–"

Abraham’s grip on your waist turned bruising. You’d never begged like that before, and the effect was instant. His rhythm stuttered, his control became ragged. Your hands, which had been clutching the rifle beside you, now scrambled for the edge of the truck as he pounded into you, the force of his thrusts making the entire vehicle rock.

Somewhere in the haze, you registered the groans of walkers closing in.

Abraham didn’t stop.

One hand left your hip, snatching up his gun in a fluid motion. A single shot rang out and a walker dropped just feet away. But his hips never stilled, his cock filling you so perfectly you could’ve cried.

Then your climax hit, sudden and overwhelming. Your walls clenched around him, a silent scream trapped behind your teeth as you bit down on your lip hard enough to taste blood. Abraham groaned, his free hand tangling in your hair as he watched your juices coat his length when he pulled out—only to slam back in, fucking you through it.

You collapsed forward, limp and weak, letting him use you like his own personal fleshlight as he chased his own release. Another walker lurched into view—bang. Another shot. Another corpse hitting the dirt.

Then, with a ragged curse, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his cum flooding your cunt in thick, pulsing waves. The heat of it was intoxicating, claiming, and for one reckless second, you never wanted him to pull out.

Reality crashed back when a decaying hand slapped against the truck’s side.

You both moved fast—clothes yanked back on, weapons grabbed, the remaining walkers put down with brutal efficiency. The engine roared to life, tires kicking up dust as Abraham floored it, one hand still gripping your thigh possessively as you sped toward safety.

[yanderes-galore]

yandere concept for redson lmk? please

Sure...! Hope you like it :)

Yandere! Red Son Concept

Pairing: Platonic -> Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Denial, Dark themes, Stalking, Delusional behavior, Condescending behavior, Unhealthy relationships, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Violence, Branding briefly mentioned, Isolation/Kidnapping, Dubious companionship/Forced relationship implied

I feel like Red Son would be the type of yandere to think he doesn't like his obsession... yet does at an unhealthy amount.

Due to how Red Son acts with people, I can see him in denial at the idea of liking anyone but his family.

This goes for both friends and family.

He just... doesn't think he can do such a thing.

He sees everyone as peasants compared to him and is too prideful to stoop to such a level.

He's dramatic and temperamental, he isn't used to being close with people.

So much that he gets uncomfortable with physical affection and fears being emotionally vulnerable.

As a result, I feel Red Son would be very rude to his obsession at first.

If this sounds familiar... This is because he seems like he'd fall a bit into the 'Tsundere' archetype at first.

Red Son acts like he hates your guts, like he only sees you as a peasant and wants nothing to do with you.

He may even sense this odd attachment to you but tries so hard to ignore it.

He can't seem to get you out of his head no matter how hard he tries.

In response, he may even be a bit more cruel in his words towards you.

He doesn't understand why he can't stop thinking about you.

Which makes him vent his frustrations about you... at you.

Red Son comes off as condescending at the start of the obsession.

He thinks he should see you as beneath him.

Yet, Red Son is quite the lonely demon due to his personality.

He's so deep in denial when it comes to you.

The moment he thinks of you fondly, or even finds himself wanting some sort of bond between you...?

He immediately thinks you did something to him and not that he wants to be friends.

Red Son would either take a long time to confront his obsession, or need someone to help him.

Said someone is most likely MK or Mei, which is a humiliating experience for him.

MK and Mei were most likely his first friends/allies, so if he ever did break and confess his situation... They'd probably tell him he wants to be your friend or something similar.

Red Son doesn't even consider romantic feelings until he becomes friends with you.

With some help, he finally manages to talk to you.

And you're so nice it's both sickening yet pleasing to him.

Even as "friends", Red Son struggles on connecting.

Yet he's less condescending now thankfully.

He does realize that his words have hurt you... and he doesn't want that....

He isn't the most affectionate friend, mostly closed off as he rants to you about something.

He's actually surprised you even listen to his rants.

It... feels a little nice, actually.

Keep in mind that Red Son is not used to anyone caring about his emotions.

So the fact you let him vent is a... nice yet foreign change.

Red Son would probably not see his behavior as bad once it starts manifesting.

He is still new to the whole friend thing... so jealousy is probably something he thinks just... happens.

He feels a bit embarrassed at first to admit he wants to hang out.

Yet when he puts aside his ego, he really does enjoy your presence.

Maybe you aren't a peasant....

Due to his temperamental nature, I think you can tell when he's jealous.

He's seething when your attention is taken away from him during one of your hangouts.

After all, this is time for just you two.

Why does someone else have to ruin it?

Due to his entitlement, Red Son would make a fuss over someone paying attention to you.

The moment you ignore him he has a fit.

No, no, no! This is your time together.

I can see you trying to prevent a fight due to Red Son threatening whoever decided they would speak to you.

Best you calm him before flames start sparking.

Red Son definitely thinks it's a privilege to be his friend.

He deserves your time and will get it no matter what.

Even when you don't hang out, I can see him still trying to watch what you're doing from afar.

After all... are you having more fun with other people?

In that case... He just needs to plan how to win you over better.

Until someone mentions something, Red Son may not realize his behavior stems from romantic feelings.

Isn't it normal for friends to be jealous of others?

Isn't it normal for him to enjoy your smile when he shows you his inventions?

It's gotta be normal for him to feel giddy at the thought of being alone with you... just you and him.

The longer he knows you, the more vulnerable he is with you.

Except he never notices until you point it out... immediately causing him to grow defensive at your words.

It probably isn't until someone comments on his behavior that he considers his feelings for you aren't friendly.

Someone probably mentions he could have a crush on you in a teasing tone, only for him to tell them off.

Only to realize... maybe they're right?

He'd be in denial of his romantic feelings for a long time.

But then... Hey... It makes sense to him.

Why else would he be so possessive around you?

You're even the only person he tolerates physical affection with.

He's easily flustered but he will admit your hugs are addicting... He keeps thinking about them even at home.

The issue is... He has no idea how he'd even confess such a thing?

Which, for a long time, leaves Red Son silently fighting with his feelings.

It doesn't help that his heart flutters when you smile or his skin heats when you touch him.

You're clearly trying to be friendly, but it just has an entirely different effect on him.

Even now he still can't hide the jealousy he feels when others get your attention.

Part of him wonders if he asks you out and you date... if that means you're his now?

If he makes you his partner, does that mean he has control over you?

All of this is so new to him... and he is a demon.

Demons are naturally possessive of what they enjoy.

Especially him.

I can only imagine Red Son's is something he tries to make grande.

He plans it all out as some big reveal before dragging you towards him.

He'd say that it should be an honor to have his heart considering his parentage.

He'd accidentally be condescending in this... which may make you say 'No'.

If you said 'No', he's baffled.

How COULD you decline his offer!?

He worked so hard to make this perfect!

He'd throw a fit, give up for a bit, then realize he still very much needs you and decides to try again.

If you said 'Yes', he's smug.

He knew you'd agree with some convincing!

Truthfully, he was never going to take 'No' for an answer.

Now that you're dating, he feels entitled to you.

He's clingier and more demanding, often wrapping an arm around your waist.

Now he's overconfident, braggin to anyone that'll listen that you're his.

He's obsessive about you to an alarming degree.

He refuses to let you out of his sight without throwing a fit.

Scold him if you want, he isn't listening, probably will just tell his parents about all of your fights.

He's a brat that isn't afraid to burn someone if it meant he got you to himself.

By this point there's no going back.

People can correct him, but he's not listening.

All he really cares about is having you to himself.

He's never felt this way towards anyone else but you.

He'd be a fool to give you up now.

In terms of if Red Son would hurt anyone over you? I don't doubt it.

Sometimes he can't control his flames, which may lead to someone getting hurt.

That and I can see him eventually trying to have you move in with him.

After all, he lives in a castle.

Don't you want to live in a castle?

He'd definitely convince you to stay at Demon Bull King's Fortress.

He'd als desperately look for his parents' approval of you.

If they say you're a good fit... Then you never have to leave!

His kidnapping is typically coercion, carefully drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

Then he can keep you isolated in the castle, just so he can keep you to himself.

After that I can see him clinging to you, surprisingly giddy at the thought of having you to himself.

Now he doesn't need to share!

Seriously, who's willingly going to come here?

Not many! Which means you're all his.

Now you can love in peace!

This may seem OOC, but maybe Red Son could brand his obsession as punishment?

It's definitely way later into the obsession, most likely when he isolates you in the castle.

By that point he would've had to snap in order to make such a decision.

He'd brand a specific symbol or pattern to remind people that you're his, then immediately attempt to comfort you afterwards.

Ironically, Red Son is like playing with fire.

You're completely oblivious to what you do to him.

You think being friends will be nice.

Unfortunately... He just gets worse.

If you stay with him despite the warning signs... you're merely growing the fire deep inside him...

Soon his obsession will grow and grow if nothing is done to prevent it...

Leaving you to get burned.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 12 (Pt 2 of 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary: Life was good. No, life was great. Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Covet Masterlist

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

William Shakespeare

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

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

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

Then, he was going to grant your request.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How does it feel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who the fuck said I couldn’t?”

“You just said you can’t–.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, he stopped there. And you knew why. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, Jake, completely naked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just answered the question yourself.”

“How?”

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

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

“Aye aye, captain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jake, please. I need more—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jacob, if I can’t fucking cum–.”

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

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

“Let me take care of you, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d missed this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you answered without another thought. 

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

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

Tinklytinklytinklytinklyting! Tinklytinklytinklytinklyting!

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I—I also don’t want to stop—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maya. Of-fucking-course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gotta love it, you continued to inwardly snark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

December 23, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t matter to him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another glimpsing ellipses. . . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. And what did that mean? Your pulse thrummed under your thumbs as they hovered over the keyboard. What would you say to that? Was there anything more laced in those three words?

Once you’d given that a good two minute stare, you went for a simple, kind response. 

You, 10:48 a.m.: Thanks, Jake. :)

For the first time that morning, you felt completely satisfied with what you’d texted. Two words and a smiley face. A win was a win. 

He didn’t waste time. Even though his read receipts weren’t on, the ellipses gave him away every time. Though, you weren’t sure if he cared too much that you noticed. . .

Jake, 10:50 a.m.: I really mean it, y/n. Last night was fucking incredible

While his words should have made you leap for joy, you weren’t sure how to feel about them. They made you feel sort of. . . Cheap. The way you immediately interpreted it was that he only thought you brought a good time when it came to your body. 

And while, yes, that was a turn on. . . It only made your heart feel halfway full. You loved how he’d viewed your body and treated it, but. . . Last night, for you, had been more about the long stares. The secret smiles. The heartfelt words exchanged (that he might have meant and might not have meant). Yes, his naked body was right at the front of your brain (how could it not be? Look at him). But, he was what mattered most to you. 

Not his appearance. Or his dick. Or his mouth. Or his fingers. (But, god, yes. Of course those really mattered, too).

In fact, in spite of yourself, you were squirming on your couch thinking of those things as you saw another gray ellipses pop up on the screen.

Jake, 10:52 a.m.: I thought about you the entire flight, baby

Jake, 10:52 a.m.: you are so fucking special to me. Your heart is the most beautiful thing about you

Jake, 10:53 a.m.: I have to tell you though. All night, I kept beating myself up over how close I was to finally fucking you again. Haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually 

Okay, then. 

The warm flush in your face traveled all the way down to the pit of your tummy. Your mouth fell open before you were closing it to bite your lip. Your heart thumped in your chest at the words taunting you from your screen. 

What does one say to that? If you were squirming before, you were fucking trembling now. Your movie was a faint noise in the background and what was left of your hot chocolate was bound to turn cold. You stared at that message long enough that the words started morphing together. 

Last night had been both a blessing and a curse. A tease of what you’d been wanting. And you could have gotten it. Had it not been for his stupid ass girlfriend. Elsie had been an issue, too, yes. But, you could’ve easily gotten rid of her. But Maya? Damn that woman. And damn her family for taking him away from you — so. far. away.

When you finally thought of something to say, you weren’t sure if it was truly the best thing to say. For the sake of exposing too much of your heart for eventual brokenness, you chewed on it. But eventually, you decided that you didn’t care. 

You, 11:06 a.m.: It was the worst way the evening could’ve ended. I was pretty fucking angry when she showed up because I knew you’d end up going to her. As always.

So much for not exposing your heart and playing it cool. That text screamed at you that it had all been for nothing. . . because at the end of the day, Jake Kiszka was your biggest weakness. And that was even without being pregnant. So, the hormones did nothing to assist you in the issue. 

Even though your response had taken a while, he didn’t let that get the best of him. His responses were speedy as hell. Maybe he really had been thinking about it. . .

Jake, 11:09 a.m.: I had no choice. I’d made that commitment to her

The words caused crimson red to flash in front of your eyes and your brain didn’t process time as you responded. 

You wanted to pop the fuck off on him. So, you did. 

You, 11:10 a.m.: What about the commitment I’ve made to carry your child? Am I nothing for that? Can’t even tell her to wait? Maybe make some time for me? Just for a quick fuck? I’d hope I’m worth at least that, Jake. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have said it. . . But you also didn’t fully regret saying it. You made a solid point (kind of). (. . .Except for the glaring fact that it hadn’t been his choice for you to make that bodily commitment. . . When it had been his choice to be and stay with her.) Honestly, the part you loved most about the fact was the spitefulness inflicted behind your words. It might have made you a bitch, but you were tired of acting like your feelings were one way when you knew for a damned well fact that they weren’t. 

You knew how much you cared. Hell, you’d made the move to admit to yourself (and him, apparently — way back when) that you loved the man, for crying out loud. The least you could do was show yourself some grace in being fucking honest in your anger. You really were hurt from last night. To hell with sounding petulant and unreasonable and ridiculous. . . You could always blame it on the hormones (which could very well be seriously to blame).

Your palms felt damp as you held your phone in slightly shaky hands. Your vision was still fuzzy and too clear all at once as you awaited his response. This one took a little longer than the others. 

Over your time waiting for him to say something, you tried to decide between two things. First, you weren’t sure if you were totally okay with what you’d said. (You were very angry, but that didn’t necessarily validate a person for snapping like you had.) And secondly, you contemplated if what you said was completely within reason and you were more angry with him for taking so damn long to answer.

Trying to get out of your head, you chose to engage in the movie the best you could. You only made it about twenty minutes before his name was on your screen again. 

Jake, 11:22 a.m.: what happened to you being the one who wanted me to go be with her all the damn time? You’ve been pretty insistent that I keep my sights set on her. What changed?

Your eyes narrowed at that. Yes, he had a point. . . But you didn’t give a fuck. So did you.

You, 11:23 a.m.: What changed???

You, 11:23 a.m.: Well, for one. YOU were pretty damn insistent on me being the center of your attention last night. YOU were fine with forgetting about her until all of that went out the window with one knock.

And, for a bit, it continued like that. Just the two of you, bickering. You, blowing smoke out of your ass and him, testing you right back.

Jake, 11:24 a.m.: I can’t forget about her if she’s literally at the front fucking door

You, 11:24 a.m.: And whose fault was that?

Jake, 11:25 a.m.: um. Not mine?? Why are you acting like I was in charge of the flight getting rescheduled last minute? 

You, 11:25 a.m.: Maybe if you would have kept your phone on you, you would have known that she was on her way. We wouldn’t have had to talk so damn much before. We could’ve gotten right fucking to it. 

Jake, 11:25 a.m.: my phone was the last thing I was thinking about when we left that bathroom

Jake, 11:26 a.m.: also, I have to ask. Is that all you wanted it to be? Just a quick fuck?

You, 11:28 a.m.: No. But I wouldn’t be surprised if YOU were fine with it just being a ‘quick fuck.’ 

Jake, 11: 29 a.m.: why me? Why is it always me who wouldn't want that?

You, 11:29 a.m.: It’s always been like that. Right?

Jake, 11:30 a.m.: you have got to be fucking joking. You know for a fact that’s not true.

You, 11:31 a.m.: Do I?

Jake, 11:32 a.m.: you damn well should know it. I don’t eat pussy like that for girls who are just a quick fuck

Oh. Well, then. You were left with no time to consider those words — or the way they were affecting you — before he was texting right after with his own rebuttal. 

Jake, 11:33 a.m.: is that you telling me that it’s always been like that for you though? I’ve only ever been a quick fuck?

You, 11:35 a.m.: Of course not.

Jake, 11:35 a.m.: okay then. So quit accusing me of it.

You, 11:36 a.m.: When have I ever been the one to sleep with multiple people at once? Wouldn’t you worry about being a quick fuck if roles were reversed?

That one must’ve left him stumped because you waited a few minutes for him to come back. Or, much to your dislike, you knew he could also be busy with Maya. Too busy to text you back. At that thought, a gentle hand drew to your tummy for comfort as your eyes welled with tears that you couldn’t avoid.

Jake, 11:39 a.m.: I don’t know why you are so convinced that I’m some sexual lunatic who has slept with all of these women. There were a few when I moved here, yes

Jake, 11:40 a.m.: but that only lasted for a bit and then it was just you and Maya. I’m not some man whore, y/n. My head was just fucked for a while and I didn’t know what else to fucking do with my emotions. Sex was easy so I used it to cope

You, 11:41 a.m.: It’s always me AND Maya. Isn’t it, Jake? Has it always been both of us? The whole summer, was it both of us? And you picked her, so.

Jake, 11:43 a.m.: we’ve talked about this, y/n

Vaguely, you remembered it. But it was hazy and wrapped around a lot of weed and a night that resulted in a baby. You could only remember things in bits from that night and they came back when they wanted. The details of his Maya explanation (because you knew there had been one — you remembered that much) were fuzzy and jumbled at best.

You, 11:44 a.m.: You know I don’t remember everything from that night, Jake. Definitely don’t remember enough to feel solid in claiming I remember EXACTLY what you told me.

Jake, 11:48 a.m.: well. I told you that I saw her for like a month from the middle of June to the middle of July. You asked if I kept seeing her after the night at baby’s all right and I told you that I had because I didn’t think you wanted me. At the time she was a woman who wanted to have regular sex with me and she was just there for me during a really hard time

Jake, 11:49 a.m.: but when you and I started fucking, I cut her off right away. Barely said a word to her to explain why I was done. Kind of ghosted her, actually. All that mattered to me at that point was that you wanted me. Because all I had wanted since the day I first saw you was you. But you only wanted me to a certain extent and then that day in the kitchen, I found out you didn’t want me at all. At least that was what you told me. 

Jake, 11:50 a.m.: you didn’t give me much of a choice that day, if you remember. I had served my purpose and you didn’t want me anymore

Jake, 11:50 a.m.: so I ran back to someone who was familiar and there she was. Point of the matter is you didn’t want me and it broke me, y/n. She wanted me, so we became more. It just happened like that

Jake, 11:50 a.m.: right now is the first time it’s honestly been both of you at the same time. And I’m not sure what the fuck I’m doing to be honest with you. I just know I want you so fucking badly it hurts me every single day. And she is someone I care about enough that I don’t want to break her heart. It’s just really fucking complicated

You sat in shock as you read the four messages. In all of your time knowing him, you had never seen the man type such long texts. . . and all back to back. He’d been waiting a while to say a lot of this. You were grateful he was being honest with you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t fucking suck to read all of it. It made you want to shrink into yourself and succumb to all of the tears you could muster. Which, at this moment, were sure to be a hell of a lot if you gave in to the pressure pushing at your tear ducts. The pressure in your chest made the tears seem like nothing, though. You felt a weight fall so fucking heavy at your breastbone, you were positive your heart had become a fifty pound weight.

He had definitely put you on the spot with all of that just now. You were at a loss for words. But you had to say something. But your fight or flight was combatting with your raging hormones and your rambling emotions. So, even if you weren’t totally sure of it, you went ahead and typed out what you felt best in your fucked up head.

You, 11:53 a.m.: It’s really unfair of you to put all of the back and forth over the summer on me. You could have had me sooner had you not been such an asshole to me. I wanted you, too. Even if I shouldn’t have wanted you, I did. I had no fucking clue what to think half of the time, Jake. 

Your thumbs flew across the keyboard on your screen before he had time to respond. You had your own shit to say, and the more you typed, the more you didn’t have to think about it. There was some long overdue shit that you needed to express, too.

You, 11:54 a.m.: I was dealing with my own conflicted emotions when it came to how to approach shit with you because I didn’t want to betray Josh’s trust in our friendship by going against his wishes and seeing you. He didn’t want you seeing people. I knew that and I still saw you. So, I felt like shit over that. 

You, 11:55 a.m.: But since finding out about the baby, he and I have talked about all of that and I wish I would have just fessed up to him because I think it would have helped me be more open to everything. At the same time though, I’ve never wanted another woman to get in the way of you pursuing your dream. I didn’t want to be the reason you put yourself on the backburner again. 

You, 11:57 a.m.: I have cared about you for so long, Jake. Even when you were a prick, I cared about you. Josh once said we are more alike than we think and he is right. In a lot of ways, we are alike. One way we are not alike, though, is I have a really fucked up past that I don’t want you to have to deal with. Period. And I’m not fucking budging on that.

You, 11:58 a.m.: But I do want you, too. I hate it because I don’t want anything between us to ever get in the way of what could make you happiest. I’ve always felt this pull to you that I wish I didn’t because it’s unfair to you. And now that I have this baby inside of me… it is near impossible for me to deny the pull. I don’t WANT to deny it. But, at the same time, you are with someone else and that makes me feel even shittier about myself for possibly destroying it for you. And I’m just not sure what the fuck to do. 

He must have been reading them as they came in because his responses were coming back quickly.

Jake, 12:01 p.m.: don’t let any of what we engaged in last night or before make you feel like shit. That is the last fucking thing I want. Our past is complicated and maybe we will never figure it out. We definitely don’t need to be sorting it all out over text 

Jake, 12:02 p.m.: but I do know that if I don’t give in to this pull that we are both feeling right now, I’m going to regret it forever. No matter who else is involved, I need to have you again. And because of our situation, sex seems to be the only thing we are going to be able to have. It sucks, but it’s what we’ve done to ourselves

There was no way you could disagree with him when it came to regretting it. You would regret it forever, too. You had to have him. But. . . the worst part about all of it was that you knew it couldn’t last. Both of you were destined to be in a constant battle of never being able to fully have each other and that was fucking gut wrenching at best. 

And even if he didn’t want you to feel shitty, you did. Because the fact that it ever ended was your fault. Your fucked up brain from your fucked up childhood that you couldn’t even fully remember. It was the most repulsive and hilarious shit. Hilarious in the sense that it wasn’t funny. At all.

At that moment, you didn’t know what to do. So, you did what you did best and denied what you could to push past the hard emotions. You didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve Eve being down on yourself. As a gift to yourself, you wanted to grant yourself that reprieve. In the way you knew best. Avoidance. 

You, 12:03 p.m.: I know that at the end of the day, Maya is who you’d want anyway. I’m too much, Jake. You haven’t put up with me long enough to understand it. 

You, 12:03 p.m.: I am very thankful that you found Gia for me. So, really. Thank you again, because therapy is how I’m going to get better for Lavender. But SHE is my only goal right now. The baby. 

You, 12:04 p.m.: So I think it’s for the best that we’ve done this to ourselves. Truly. Sex is what we are best at anyway. It’s all we should be doing. When emotions get involved, we fuck it up. And when it’s just sex, it’s easier to cut off.

Jake, 12:05 p.m.: it’s funny. You said the same exact shit last time, but it didn’t make anything any easier for me in the end

You, 12:06 p.m.: So now it’s all about you?

Jake, 12:06 p.m.: jesus, y/n. Cut the shit. It wasn’t easy for you either

You, 12:07 p.m.: Well, I wish it would have been. 

Jake, 12:08 p.m.: I wish it would have been too. But we can’t always get what we fucking want, can we?

In order to avoid an argument, you took that as an opportunity to drop a joke. Again, you were trying to give yourself a gift. And an argument over half-lies with the man you loved was not a gift.

You, 12:09 p.m.: We sure can’t, Mick Jagger. 

After about ten minutes of staring at your screen with no response, you started losing faith in any sort of arrangement working out with Jake. And again, you’d only have yourself to blame for screwing up any progress that you two were making with the emotional explosion, from both of you, over fucking text messages. 

Your screen was becoming your worst enemy. You didn’t want to look at your rejected bright blue text any longer. But you were stuck in a staring contest with it, no matter how hard you didn’t want to be.

The laser focus concentration had you fucking jumping when the phone in your hand started buzzing with a call. But as soon as you calmed down and focused on Elsie’s name, your breath rushed back into your lungs at the fact that it was her. You needed her. 

Sweet relief. Thank you, Els, you thought gratefully as you clicked the green button, carefully sliding out of your texts before putting Elsie on speaker. 

You did not want to accidentally send a voice memo or a weird ass text by staying in your texts with Jake, as a phone got pressed to your heated cheek. 

“Hey El—.”

“Hey bitch, I’m pulling into the parking lot,” Elsie’s energetic voice cut you off. She’d most definitely been up for several hours already, being much more of a morning person than you’d ever been. “If you aren’t ready when I come knock on the door, I’m disowning you.”

“Give me a damn minute!” You grumbled, albeit happily, at her intrusion. You turned off the TV as soon as you could, though. Had to escape the confines of your living room. “You just called me.” After throwing the blanket off of you, you rushed around to throw away your cookies and dumped your cocoa down the sink. After washing all of the dishes you’d used, you went to find some decent clothing for an outing. Comfort was still key today, so some leggings and a sweatshirt were your goal. 

The conversation with her carried on into your bedroom, while you found clothes to wear. She was doing most of the talking as you figured out what to wear. A bigger black sweatshirt, black leggings, and black fuzzy socks. And a maternity bra today. The sports bras were decent, but the maternity bras felt much better, if you were given the choice. 

You took a minute to relieve your ear from Elsie’s rambling. When you pulled the phone away, she was still going on and on about something slightly crotchety your grandmother had said offhandedly that morning.

And when you took a break from her talking, your head cleared enough that you decided to put on a little bit of makeup. 

So, rather than continuing to be rude and ignore her spiel, you ended up telling her to just ‘be patient and wait for a few minutes’  in the car. You made sure to tack on a promise that you’d be down soon.

After she hung up with one last ‘hurry up!,’ you finished your mascara with a final comb over your left lashes. You brushed through your hair a couple of times in front of your full body mirror. And when you were observing your chosen outfit, your eyebrows drew in when you looked better at the dark material of the sweatshirt in the mirror. Bavarian Inn? This didn’t belong to you. . . You didn’t recognize it and it fit slightly bigger than your other sweaters. 

The closer you looked, the more you noticed it gave a specific location for the Inn. . . Frankenmuth, Michigan — the guys’ hometown. Right below the name of the hotel. Did this belong to Jake. . .? It could’ve been Josh’s, Sam’s, or Danny’s. . . . You knew it belonged to one of them, thanks to the Michigan reference. You were almost sure of it. 

But, still, an idea struck in your head.

You snapped a few quick selfies in the bigger sweatshirt. You made sure to angle the camera in a way that helped you feel confident and cute, while also showing the sweater. Your toes wiggled nervously in your white, fuzzy socks. 

You noticed your hair flowed over your shoulder beautifully. It helped you feel a little more confident in your idea.

After taking a few seconds to critique the photos, you chose the best one and sent it to Jake. 

Deep breath in. Why were you even anxious? His face had literally been between your thighs twelve hours ago.  

You, 12:23 p.m.: Yours? 

You, 12:23 p.m.: Or Theo’s? 🤔

For a second, you questioned if it was a good idea to send it. . . You were clearly just starting shit. But, glancing back at your bed, you remembered what had happened on it just a little more than twelve hours ago and how it was cut short by Jake and his girlfriend’s commitment. And, any sort of anxiety over sending it dissipated. 

And the idea that his girlfriend might see your text was fucking thrilling.

You clicked the phone closed, not wanting to watch and wait for a response. As you walked to the living room, you rubbed a hand over your belly before you stopped to give Stevie a few rubbies. She had hopped up on the back of the couch to bid you farewell. With one more twirl to her tail, you gave her back a gentle scratch before telling her you’d see her later.

Then, in no time, your belt bag was slung over your shoulder—almost good to go. As you laced up your trusty white, high-top Chucks, you felt your phone buzz in your belt bag. And simultaneously, you heard Elsie in the back of your head telling you to get your ass to the car. 

So, after slipping on your thicker coat to combat the cooler temperatures, you quickly made your way out of the apartment. 

It felt like old times to, once again, sit in the passenger seat of your Grandma’s old BMW. It was on its way to becoming a family heirloom, at this point. The car, having been new when you and Elsie had been kids. 

“Broke out this old clunker, hm?” You asked with a lilt in your tone. Even though you’d been in the car for a few minutes already, the shivering was nonstop with the shocking drop in temperature outside. Leaning forward a bit, belly tucked in the crook of your thighs, you placed your hands in front of the heat. After a couple beats, you were already feeling slightly better. 

And warm, warm, warm.

Man. While it was undoubtedly the coldest day so far for December of ‘22, the older car’s intense heat worked wonders. And it was quickly making you regret the coat. 

Without another thought, you were throwing off the offensive, heavy coat and throwing it in the pristinely kept backseat. Though, you knew, if Elsie took ownership of this car when she moved back, it wouldn’t stay like that for much longer. She was terrible at keeping a car clean. Unfortunately. Because, in all honesty, the car had been kept in great condition for its age. You’d expect no less from your Grandma, who kept everything sparkly clean. It was hardly a ‘clunker’. But it was still much older than your Jetta. 

“Did you hear nothing I said on the phone?” Elsie accused, but her voice indicated she wasn’t angry. She snorted a laugh before she spoke again. “I swear if Jake was up there with his whore of a girlf—.”

“Elsie!”

“Shut the fuck up,” she responded, rolling out of the lot in the vintage silver car. “You know you don’t like her.”

Rather than agreeing, you gave a bullshit response to save face. “Els, I’m trying to be better about respecting–.”

“Stop. She’s heinous and we don’t like her. It’s okay to say that, babe,” Elsie insisted, driving smoothly through a red light when she definitely shouldn’t have. “You, of all people, hold the right to bitch about the bitch.”

“Okay, Red Light Fuckin’ Special,” you poked at her, pulling down the mirror to swipe your lips with chapstick. “Jesus.”

“Red Light Special. . .,” She hummed, clicking her nails against the stereo as she turned up the Ariana Grande song. “That’s what Josh calls me when I go down at a red li—.”

“Okay, no,” you gagged, pretending to vomit at the thought. “Not this early in the day.”

“It is not early. It’s past noon. Damn, sleepy pants. ‘S like you’re carrying another life or something,” Elsie jested, looking over at you just as you did her, offering you a wink. “And that was no red light special, sis. No, no. California Roll is what I like to call that little move,” she jokingly boasted, tossing her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder. 

After the move, she did a little jig with her shoulders to a key change in the song, belting the lyrics from the top of her lungs. 

You couldn’t help but momentarily join in, letting “Santa Baby” by Ariana and Liz flow past your lips, fresh with Baby Lips chapstick. 

After sharing a giggle, you glanced at her from the corner of your eye after checking your very janky nails. “Can we get a manicure today?”

“Oh yes please,” she begged, sniffing a bit as she turned into the nearest Waffle House. Your favorite, trusted location. Just a few blocks from your apartment. “Christmas nails?”

“Ohhhh yes,” you agreed, placing your Baby Lips back in your belt bag. “But let’s do something subtle since it’s almost Christmas,” you laughed, zipping up your bag. The pocket with your phone buzzed again, reminding you of its earlier notification as you’d tied your Chucks.

Oh, yeah. . .Jake. You’d actually kind of forgotten about him.

You took Elsie’s momentary distraction with her lipstick in her mirror to check your phone. 

When you saw you had five texts from him, your tummy flipped and a sly grin pulled at your lips. You loved the way his name looked on your screen. You really did. And you were really hoping you’d gotten to him with your text. . . if even just a little bit.

Jake, 12:25 p.m.: what the fuck?? 

Jake, 12:25 p.m.: yes, y/n. It’s mine. I’m from Frankenmuth. Why the fuck would he have been to a tiny ass town like my hometown?

Jake, 12:30 p.m.: did you invite that fucker over last night or something? After hanging out with Elsie and Josh? Is that why you’re wondering if it’s his?

Jake, 12:31 p.m.: actually. Never mind that question. It’s not my place to care

Jake, 12:33 p.m.: I just hope the sweatshirt is keeping you warm enough

You couldn’t wipe the silly grin off your face or shoo away the butterflies going erratic in your tummy at his several texts in a row. Unbeknownst to you, though, Elsie had caught you, apparently. 

“What did Jake say?” 

What? How did she–? Your phone wasn’t even in her line of sight.

Y/n, the voice in your head said, sounding like Elsie as well. Be so for real. . . She knows you better than anyone.

But still, after opening and closing your mouth like a fish for a solid thirty seconds or more, you asked her. 

“How do you know it’s Jake?”

Fuck! Why didn’t you deny it?

Because there’s no point and you know it, the voice seemed to laugh at you. No point in lying to someone who will catch you in it.

 She didn’t answer you right off the bat, just curled her lips in a knowing grin as she raised a brow at you. You continued looking over at her, feeling stupid and not knowing what else to do. You shrugged, bugging your eyes with a shake of your head as if to say ‘what?!’. She looked like she was about to explode with laughter, with the way her lips shook and her eyes brightened mischievously. 

“How do I know it’s–?” She squeaked, a giggle finally escaping her lips. “Y/n– babe. Sis. Please. Don’t even act like I don’t know you’ve been imagining him in your bed every night since you found out in October. Probably even before you found out, too!” She exclaimed, sneaking a glance over at you as she turned the volume down. “You know I fucking know. It’s me!”

Obviously, you knew she was right. But you weren’t going to just let her get off that easily.

“Did Josh tell you anything?” You asked, suspicious that the activities from your game night had been exposed to your older sister.

“Maybe he spilled some information after your sad ass got out of the car last night. . .,” she smirked, eyebrows scrunched together in faked thought. 

“My ‘sad ass’? I was totally fine last nigh–.”

“Stop lying to me!” She rolled her eyes with a laugh in disbelief, the pitch in her voice raising with exasperation. “I heard Jake during our phone call and Josh put two and two together when we picked you up.”

“What did he–? How did he know anyth–?”

“He saw Maya’s car when we got there, I guess. Didn’t say anything about his little clue until the night was over though. After I brought up how depressed you’d acted all night long.”

“I didn’t act depressed, Elsie. God,” you corrected her, knowing she was most definitely the correct one. 

You knew you’d acted beaten down. Stupid – should’ve used last night to have fun rather than playing your turn of events over and over again in your head. Last night should have been a night of celebration that your sister was finally home (for good). 

You should have enjoyed the movie about Whitney fucking Houston while indulging in delicious food at Nitehawk during the movie. 

The stress eating had been unavoidable – especially when the menu had come out and your favorite dish had practically screamed your name. The root beer float and Charlie Bucket after your meal had been a pure act of self care for your broken heart. But. . . you’d still wound up sobbing during the final scene of the movie over much more than the obviously heartbreaking death of Whitney. Because, as she’d sung those songs, all that had appeared in your head was a reel of you and Jake. 

So, as Elsie and Josh had sung the movie soundtrack from the top of their lungs on the way home, you’d continued to silently sulk in the backseat as you finished the gummies in your Charlie Bucket. Your hood had been up and over your head to conceal your emotions. Said head, having laid dramatically against the car window as they’d had the time of their lives in the front seat. 

Okay. . . . Maybe you had been transparent in your emotions. 

“Yeah. . . You’re remembering, huh? Little Miss Depressed McMopey,” she smirked, although the smile didn’t reach her eyes as she seemed to be feeling your reminiscent melancholy with you. Not ever one to let you sit in your sadness for too long, she was squeezing your arm to bring you back to the moment. Your eyes snapped up to hers, the light in her blue irises brightened your spirits once more. “There she is. . .,” she paused, rubbing your arm until you were giving her the best smile you could manage. It wasn’t hard to put one on — not with Els; she made you feel at peace just by existing. “Now. . . back to Jake’s hands being all up in your no-no square during game night.”

At your open mouthed squeak, reminiscent to Lizzie-fucking-McGuire, she bursted out with a laugh. 

“Ohhh yeah, y/n,” she chuckled knowingly, blinking a few times for emphasis. “Oh. Yeah.”

Your mouth continued to gape, questions spilling past your lips in choppy sentences and barely intelligible words. To be fair, you were in shock at the sudden change in topic — the fact that she knew. 

“Josh told me everything. Well. . . everything he knows at least,” she cut into your sounds, your mouth momentarily clamping shut. “The rest I can piece together because you, sis, are my favorite puzzle to try and solve – always have been, always will be. It’s because you’re a fun puzzle for me. . . I put every piece together every damn time.”

You stared her down. Brows furrowed in contemplation and simmering annoyance. The fire that licked your veins was at Joshua for exposing you to her before you’d gotten the guts to say anything. “What is ‘everything’? What all did he divulge?” You were finally able to spit something out, your tone begging her to give more information. There was no hiding anything from her. No point in hiding anything in the first place – she was always going to figure you out — one way or another. 

She was right. She did solve your puzzle ‘every damn time’. 

She stayed quiet, smirking like a little rat. And curiosity getting the best of you as you squirmed under her knowing look. Like a petulant child, you crossed your arms over your chest, twitching your nose. “And what in the hell happened to my sweet best friend, Josh, who’s never liked exposing other peoples’ shit? He’s just decided that he’s done keeping my business, my business? Now he’s making it his to share–?”

“Oh, babe,” she interrupted you. “You two made it everyone’s business the other night, from what I heard. . . So, no. Josh still keeps shit to himself that isn’t his to share, but. . . he recalled his memory to me. My ears had to hear all of the details that you two exposed everyone to. It is not his fault that he had to witness pornography–.”

“He has got to stop with the porn shit,” you argued back, grasping for something to keep up your end of the conflict. “And it wasn’t ‘us two’. It was Jacob who started shit like that in front of everyone. I was an innocent party – a casualty at the hands of his attack.”

“Oh, yes. Little Miss Innocent. Mhm,” she snorted, turning the volume completely off before pinning you with a stare. “You definitely weren’t spreading your legs for your baby daddy. Right next to his damn girlfriend and everything.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, wimpily facepalming with one hand at her recollection. You didn’t know why you were fighting her on this. She was completely right and you knew it. Josh wouldn’t lie and Elsie wouldn’t bullshit you. The story she was telling sounded like the absolute truth and there was no getting around what she knew.

Besides, you could really use Elsie’s expertise on the situation. 

“He started it,” you moaned, placing both hands on your face to cover yourself a bit more. Even if it was Elsie, your sister who knew you best of all, you’d been caught red handed. And you were embarrassed.  You still couldn’t believe it had happened — in front of everyone. 

But, it had. And you had to own up to it once more. So, you released your face to look her in the eyes. Get it over with. “I couldn’t fucking resist. Because, yes, Elsie. Big ‘ol fucking shocker. You are right and I haven’t stopped wanting Jake in my bed. Not once,” you rambled, eyes widening to emphasize your point as you explained. “Practically since the moment I met him – even when he was acting like a prick. Since the beginning, I’ve wanted him. Yes. And the whole ‘being pregnant with his baby’ thing just makes matters worse, so give me. a fucking. break.”

There you go. You said it and there was no taking it back now. 

Would you look at that? Admitting things to yourself at the same time you were admitting them to your sister. Was it considered growth? Gia would probably say so. 

“Caught ya. But I knew all of that already,” she snickered, turning up the seat warmer on her side, showing her intrigue. “So, what did he say that no one heard? I need the tiny details. I know everything else. Did you two end up fuckin’ or what?”

Well. Not quite. So, you’d deny. As long as you could.

“No! He has a girlfriend, Elsie.” 

Didn’t stop you last night. Come on, y/n. . . 

You shook your head at the inner voice taunting you. “Even if I do want him, I shouldn’t want him,” you mumbled, knowing that was the truth. No matter what had happened, you were wrong for wanting him. “Whether his baby is inside of me or not, I shouldn’t. Morality is a thing, you know.”

Yeah. Morality means so much after last night. You are so right, y/n. Morality Queen. In the flesh. 

Memories and moments from the night prior were bouncing around in your head, playing a game of torture and mockery as you said one thing while re-living another. Your moans as he’d devoured you, everywhere. His naked body, under your hands. Your tits, held so well in his hands. The emotional exchanging of words. His dick, just about to enter you. . . Had it not been for–.

“Mhm,” she replied, lips pursed as she narrowed her eyes at you. “But you do want him. So. . . Fucking take him. I am sure you two have already fucked again anyway. So, the morality bullshit means virtually nothing at this point.”

“We haven’t had sex again, Elsie,” you grumbled, brushing a hand through your hair as your phone buzzed again in your hands. At the feeling against your thigh, you suddenly got terrified that you’d accidentally recorded and sent this entire conversation. Fuck. You hurriedly picked up your phone in shaky hands to check for any accidental recordings. 

When you glanced at your screen, you saw a new text from Jake. But you barely cared until you opened your text thread with him to find out if you’d accidentally sent anything. . .

But, you found no accidental messages when you checked your thread. Thank god. You hadn’t sent anything. All that greeted you were his (now six) texts sitting and awaiting a response. The five from earlier, still glaring at you. 

His most recent one yanked your heart from your chest and shoved it into your throat, though. Your eyes slid down the screen, taking in every word.

Jake, 12:47 p.m.: I’m really sorry for being an ass. I know I shouldn’t ask you about him. But just like you hate thinking about Maya and me, I hate thinking about you and him. But I know I shouldn’t ask you shit. Just know I miss you and I really do hope the sweatshirt has kept you and our baby girl warm in the fuckin frigid weather. I checked Brooklyn’s forecast today and it’s cold for you guys. So please stay warm. You don’t need to be getting sick

You couldn’t read that and not respond to him – especially when you’d been the one to stir shit during a morning already wrought with tense text messages. . . after a night like last night. 

So, even as Elsie cleared her throat in anticipation, you gave her a sideways glance. “Just give me a sec, Els,” you insisted, already typing out your response to him.

“Is it Jake?”

“Fuck, Elsie!” You whined, blinking once at your screen before your eyes flew to glare at her. “Yes, Elsie Mabel. It is Jake,” you sneered, irritable and hungry. And, due to being very much pregnant, those two things were enhanced tenfold, making your blood heat. And, quite frankly, your head was swimming with lovesickness for the man on the other side of the phone – who was way too far away for your fucking liking, thanks to his bitch of a girlfriend. 

“And, if you must know, while we haven’t had sex, it is not for lack of fucking trying. Last night, my dear, dear sister, his face was most definitely between my thighs,” you stated, watching her jaw drop. Both of her dainty hands went to her mouth to cover a giant, shit-eating grin. “Yes, Elsie. You are right. It is exciting. I’d love to smile and celebrate with you,” you feigned glee, sarcasm dripping from your tone when a sneer met your lips with your next words. “However, it can’t be completely exciting. Because, that blissful act had almost turned into sex. His dick was right there—waiting for fucking entry and everything.” You took a moment to consider if you’d said too much. But you didn’t care enough to contemplate it much more than that. “But, Elsie, your interrupting phone calls and Maya’s quite unexpected arrival made that shit impossible for us. His dick, taken away from me and wrapped, yet again, behind a fucking towel.” pausing, you reeled in your dramatics (again, you were pregnant. Emotions were high. . . And, admittedly, you were still very wound up from last night). 

You gave her a moment to let the shock fade however it could before you were looking back at your phone screen. “Now, please, let me finish this fucking text.”

You, 12:54 p.m.: Jake. Stop. I am the one who started it with my texts. So, please, don’t apologize for getting upset. I wanted to make you upset and THAT was wrong of ME. I was the one being an ass. For no reason whatsoever. And I am the one sorry for THAT. It was stupid. Seriously. 

You, 12:55 p.m.: Also, I am staying warm. Your sweatshirt is very comfy and I am wearing my big coat and thick socks. 

And while you really didn’t want to send the next text, you still did. It was what was right. 

You, 12:56 p.m.: Now, please. Spend time with Maya and don’t worry about me. I don’t want to take any more of your time away from her. Put your phone down and focus on her. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine and I will see you when you get back. 

Not wanting to do it at all, you couldn’t deny the validity in the idea that instantly sprung to your mind to keep him away. It was a good idea.

You, 12:56 p.m.: In fact, I’ll put my phone on Do Not Disturb to remind you to not reach out. I would like for you to enjoy your time with her without being bothered by me and my antics.

Doing just what you said you would, you took a moment to switch your phone onto Do Not Disturb and locked your phone before angrily shoving it in your belt bag. You really fucking hated saying all of that shit about Maya. You hated the entire situation. All of it. Every side of your predicament sucked ass. The only thing that didn’t make you want to punch a wall was Lavender. 

You felt tears well in your eyes at the thought of her and let yourself wallow for a minute as you tried to take steady breaths. Your eyes focused on the offensive bright yellow color of the Waffle House in front of you as your mind swirled with thoughts of your future. Your baby.

She was a prize that you continuously didn’t deserve. And, selfishly, you were so ready to just hold her and feel like your pain through all of this was worth something. Because, no matter what, even if your heart broke for Jake every day, this baby was the best thing that could’ve come from what the two of you had always seemed to have. The thing between you and Jake that had never been for his best interest. A ridiculous mess you’d created. . . The night you made her, the one validating part of your selfish ideas that had come to fruition. 

Nothing else had ever worked in favor of you two, most likely due to the fact that you two weren’t supposed to work. And, you were absolutely the sole cause for that. Fuck you and fuck everything that made you so damn screwed up and unworthy of a pure love.

No, y/n. Stop it. Don’t do this, the voice in your head that mimicked Gia insisted. Out with the negative, reach for the positive. 

You put a hand to your tummy, taking a deep breath in and out as you wiped your cheeks. A few stray tears littered the skin. As you came back to, you realized Elsie’s delicate hand on your thigh, giving intermittent squeezes in time with your breathing. You imagined she’d been doing it the entire time you’d sulked. You looked up and to your left, leveling your sister with a look.

She was, surprisingly, patiently waiting. Wasn’t pushing you to say anything. Her own eyes were shining with emotion at your internal battle that you knew she knew all too well.  

Rather than saying anything to continue your conversation, though, you eyed the time on the stereo. And, upon checking it, you realized how you’d wasted your morning. It was gone and afternoon was here and you had to work soon. Fuck it all.

With a defeated sigh and slouch against your seat, you grumbled at your sister with a sideways glance. “I have to be at work in an hour and a half. And I still want to get nails done. Can we just get breakfast at Starbucks or something?”

Without a word, Elsie gave your leg one final grip before she flipped back to the front and put the car in drive. “Absolutely, babe.”

“I’m sorry,” you moaned. “I’m ruining our day together.”

“Get out of your damn head and don’t say sorry. You haven’t ruined anything,” she quipped, coming to her first stoplight before reaching over to hold your hand. With a lone tear in your eye, you looked over to listen as she continued. “We will get Starbs, get our nails done, I’ll take you to work. . . and then, tonight, we can go get something to eat and rot on the couch while we watch a Christmas movie.”

The plan sounded wonderful, actually, so you said as much and thanked her for loving you. She’d waved you off, but you did have a thought that made your heart feel a little fuller as she turned into Starbucks. So, you voiced the thought with a request. “Can Josh join tonight?”

“Do you want him to?”

“Yes please,” you answered with a barely there smile, pulling yourself up from your slumped position the best you could with the added weight at your waist. The task proved a little more difficult than you would have liked, but Elsie was distracted as she was already calling  Josh to ask him. 

You glumly realized as they spoke that if Jake were here, he would have helped you into a sitting position. He would have made sure you were comfortable before doing anything else. He would have then placed his hand over your own, which still laid contentedly on your bump. 

And. . . the tears were tempting your tear ducts once more as Elsie hung up with Josh and moved forward the slightest bit in the long ass line.

You tried your best to conceal your sniffles, but she’d caught onto one and reached to hold your hand once more. At her touch, your skin felt a little warmer and you held tight to her sure hand. Your other palm never left your baby, not letting up on that feeling for a second, either. 

“Josh said you pick where we eat and you pick the movie and that none of us are a fan of Jake being gone so close to the holidays.”

“I never said–.”

“Babe, you don’t have to say it,” Elsie snickered, pulling up behind the car that was ordering at the speaker. “What do you want?”

You were about to answer by telling her to get your usual, but you knew you probably shouldn’t be drinking that much caffeine, so you settled on yet another hot chocolate. You’d never been the biggest fan of hot cocoa. At least, not so much to drink it multiple times in a week like you had this week. But, apparently the baby liked it, as you were suddenly craving it like no other as you eyeballed it on the menu. 

When you told her what you wanted, she raised a brow. She was thinking the same exact thing as you – knew that you only drank the beverage on special occasions, never one to seek it out.

“The baby must like it,” you responded, a shaky smile coming to rest on your lips. 

Even if your eyes were still watering, the thought of Lavender someday asking for hot chocolate at a Starbucks drive thru made your heart happy. 

You cleared your throat and shook your head, starting to feel a lot better already. “I think it’s like the third time I’ve had it this week or something.”

Elsie raised a brow at you as she pulled up to the speaker and gave her order. You gazed out the windshield, watching in awe as the hoards of cars pulled out onto the busy streets. A lot of people were late to Christmas shopping, it seemed. . . 

“So, are you thinking you’re going to end up fucking him again?”

Even though the words were a stark contrast to your thoughts, they didn’t make you jolt a bit. Now that it was out in the open, you were glad to discuss it with her. You’d kind of been waiting to talk to her about it. The thought hadn’t stopped lurking in the back of your mind since last night. It persisted in a way that it felt natural for her to ask, coinciding with your revolving door of Jake-centered thoughts. 

“I don’t know,” you breathed in deeply through your nose, letting it out slowly through your mouth. Your eyes caught sight of a little girl across the way. She couldn’t have been more than three, with long brown hair and a sweet face. Her round little baby face, bright with a grin. In spite of yourself, you grinned at the sight as she walked with her mother. “I hope I get to have that with him again. Just one more time, at the very least. But. . . I know I shouldn’t hope so.”

“Why?” 

“He–.”

“And don’t say it’s because he’s taken,” she cut you off, pointing a finger towards you, inching up in line bit by bit. 

“But that’s the harsh truth, Els.”

“Well, it’s not the only ‘harsh truth’,” she clarified, making you raise a brow. “The other truth is that you are entitled to want the man. I mean, considering you are providing a bodily home for his baby everyday. . . Come on,” she shook her head as if to imply that her point was obvious. 

“Also, his cunt of a girlfriend needs to grow the fuck up. Needs to get it through her damn head that she needs to take a step back. And the next time she says any shit about my niece. . .,” She moved forward in line, huffing a quick breath from her mouth, as if working to relax any oncoming anger. “She doesn’t want to try. Not in front of me, at least. Because, not only is she insulting Lav, she’s insulting you and you are doing something she should fucking respect.”

At her words, you shook your head. . . you agreed — to an extent. But. . . she definitely had the right to not want you to fu—.

“And, what Josh told me. . . He said you and Jake, during that game – when you did each other in front of our friends, that bitch, and the entirety of Brooklyn, New York,” she began. You snorted at her with a roll of your eyes as she kept on. “He said she looked about ready to snap. So, surely that’s why she bit your head off, right? Said that ugly shit the baby?” 

“I’m sure.”

“Did Jake hear her? Josh didn’t tell me.”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell Jake? That she said that?”

“No.”

“And why not?” She asked, sort of accusing and critically. “It’s his prerogative to know that she’s talking like that about his baby.”

“I just don’t think it’s the time to bring it up. . . It wasn’t something so alarming that I feel the need to tell him, either,” you explained, feeling as though you were making excuses for Maya’s actions. Why did you care to defend Maya, of all people? Because you felt guilty? Probably. Goddamn. Your emotions were so back and forth. “She’ll slip up again, surely.”

“So now we just wait?”

“Yep,” you shrugged, not knowing what else to tell her. “I guess.”

“And, even if it meant you’d get to fuck him tomorrow if you told him today, you still wouldn’t?”

“I just don’t think it’s my place, Els,” you reluctantly answered, knowing she had a point. But, still. You had to err on the side of what was right. And it felt right to keep your mouth shut. Didn’t want to tell him she’d been hateful just so you could get him in bed (even though you knew it would be for more than that). “If he’s meant to hear something, he will.”

“You are a better woman than me, sis,” she replied, pulling up to the window with a cheerful greeting before paying and intercepting the drinks with a ‘thank you!’. 

As she pulled out a touch too quickly, you lurched forward in your seat, almost spilling your drink. “Okay, could we maybe take things a little slower, Elsie?”

“Don’t wanna spill on Jake’s sweatshirt?”

“Fuck off. How do you know it’s—?”

“It says Frankenmuth on the front, dumbass. Josh doesn’t own shit like that and I don’t know why Sammy or Danny’s clothes would be at your place.” 

You glared at her, at which she flicked her eyes over to you. When she looked, you said your piece. “Thank you so much for calling me a dumbass.”

“That’s all you heard from that?” 

“Yes. Your stupid ass correcting tone pissed me off, so I stopped listening after that.”

She blew out a breath as she made all of the correct turns to get to your favorite nail salon. “You really need to get some because you’re in desperate need of an attitude adjustment.”

“All because I told you to drive carefully and don’t like being called a dumbass?”

“Well, I just think you should let yourself have him.”

You groaned, exasperated that she was using anything to bring it up. 

Your warm drink was held in between your cupped hands, making you delightfully shiver for more reasons than one. You nestled the cup in your lap, letting the heat radiate all the way up your arms. “It’s not that simple.”

“Well, I happen to think it is,” she encouraged, pulling into the parking lot of the salon. “And you’ve always respected my advice, so. . . consider just giving in to what you want.”

Not able to believe you were yet again giving the idea any sort of weight, you unbuckled your seatbelt as Elsie did hers as well. “Even if people could get hurt?”

“Who the hell is going to get hurt besides Maya, the Massive Cunt?”

“Um,” you wrinkled your brow with a tilt of your head before bringing your drink up to your lips for a tiny sip. “Maybe Jake? Who didn’t ask for any of this and just got it thrown on him? After he went to her? After he chose her over me because I was the bitch who broke his heart? He could ultimately miss out on true happiness because of me giving in to a selfish need — yet again.”

“I’m going to ignore most of that because you know it’s bullshit and that he wants you, too,” Elsie argued, finally taking a drink of her White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha. She hummed in satisfaction at the taste, her eyes closing momentarily. “If you give Jake your coochie-pop, do you really think he’s going to be hurt?”

“Coochie-pop?”

“Your wishing well, honey pot, poontang, dripping delta, whisker box–.”

You couldn’t help but squawk, the hilarious names for a vagina killing you. “Whisker box?!” 

“. . .Because it’s your pussy?. . .” She asked, as if you were completely unaware of what she was implying. “Get it?”

“No, I know exactly what you meant,” you corrected her train of thought, shaking your head before combing a hand through your hair. Blowing out another breath, you couldn’t help the giggle that followed it. 

“Well. Whatever you want to call it, you know I’m right,” she concluded, giving you a satisfied grin before opening her door. “Now, let’s go get our nails done and we can compare how each twin refers to our pus–.”

“Nope!” You answered enthusiastically, awkwardly angling yourself to grab your coat from the backseat. Out of breath at the simple task, you knew you’d still obtained it the best you could with the obtrusion of a belly. And while you loved the baby, — so much — it was still frustrating getting used to the extra addition at your front. In a rush, you put it on before getting out. 

She was already at the shop door when you closed the passenger side, waiting for you. When you met her there, you finished your thought. “That conversation, my dearest sister, is not one I’d like to partake in.”

“Seriously?” 

Your eyes bulged out of your sockets at her, your hands tucking deep into your pockets to warm up from the crisp chill of the wind as it bitterly whipped against your face. Reaching a bit further in your pockets, you tried to grasp for Elsie’s missing sanity. “Yes, Elsie! Seriously!”

“I just want you to know,” she began, walking into the warm shop after you. Both of you shook off the chill from the winter day once you were safe inside. “That whenever you finally give in and do the dirty with him again, I will be selfless and listen to you if you wish to discuss it with anyone.”

You shushed her, looking around at the other occupants of the salon. They were oblivious to her, thankfully, as the shop played Christmas classics to drown out obnoxious people like your sister. 

“Whatever, Elsie. You’re just nosy as hell,” you rolled your eyes with a grin before turning your attention to the cute little lady at the front counter, who you knew to own the studio. 

The tiny woman with inky black locks, tied in a clip at the back of her head, nodded with a smile as she wrote you into the schedule for your nail requests. She told you it would be about ten minutes to get you with a tech, so you decided to take one of the chairs that sat in a row against the windows at the front of the store. Your feet were not in the mood for you to be standing any longer than necessary – especially since you still had to work today.

Elsie grabbed some colors for the two of you to look at on her way to sit beside you. She handed you a Christmas color swatch that you instantly began perusing as she looked through the other palette of winter colors. “Sparkly?” She questioned from your left. 

You pursed your lips in contemplation as you studied the non-sparkly DND colors in your hands. The plainness of the dark Aurora Green and Cherry Mocha appealed to you more than the colors she held, as you glanced over to give the sparkly polishes a chance.

“I think I wanna go with no sparkles,” you decided, bringing your swatch up to show her before pointing to the Aurora Green. “I’m really leaning towards this dark green.”

“Ooh, I love,” she encouraged, leaning over you to toss her colors in the basket next to you. “What’s the number?”

“747,” you recited as she typed it into her phone, before crossing her legs and tucking the device back into the crease she’d made between her thighs. Copying her previous action, you deposited your nail colors into the wicker basket. 

You tucked your hands under your belly and leaned back against the window. All of the women around you, either chatting it up or engrossed in their phones. The sight made a thought come to you. Looking over at your sister, the back of your head still balanced against the cool window, you voiced your realization to gauge her opinion. “Els—I just thought. . . I haven’t posted a picture on any of my socials of my belly or said a damn thing anywhere about being pregnant.”

“Well, do you want to?” She wondered aloud, chewing the inside of her lip (something you both did). 

“You know, now that I’ve thought about it, I feel like I’m not going to stop thinking about it until I do it,” you responded, leaning up from your position to get your phone out of your belt bag that was still slung across your chest. When you saw zero notifications, you remembered your Do Not Disturb idea and quickly checked your call log to see if you’d missed anyone important. 

No one. Wow. You were so damn popular. You left that app to go to Pinterest to look at some pose ideas. And, hard as it was, you avoided going to your texts. Because, you figured if it was important enough, you’d have gotten a call from anyone who might’ve texted you. 

You simply did not want to face the reality of Jake adhering to your ridiculous request. 

When you looked over at Elsie from the corner of your eye, she was already looking at her own Pinterest app. And while you had simply typed ‘maternity announcement poses’, your scheming sister had typed ‘sexy boudoir maternity poses.’

“Elsie Mabel!” You reprimanded her with a laugh, bumping her shoulder with your own. “Why the sexy? And definitely no boudoir. Are you kidding?”

“What?!” She said, giving you a wink. At which, you just shook your head and mouthed a final ‘no’. Growling, you watched as she deleted the ‘boudoir’, but noticed how she kept the ‘sexy’. “And — before you get onto me for keeping the sexy, I will let you know: you get better results if you throw in a word like that.”

You really weren’t so offended by that idea. The boudoir was just too much. Honestly, playing around with some sexy pictures, with the bonus of Elsie’s time and help. . . It might even aid in boosting your mood. And, you had to say. . . your body confidence was definitely better since last night, you could say that much. 

Jake had done a wondrous job at making you feel very appealing and truly attractive. Fuck, you wished you could go back in time and change the night’s turn of events. Ridiculous ass luck.

Squeezing your legs tighter together, you did as she said and typed the same into your search bar. You even tacked on ‘black and white’ because you liked the idea of that, too. . . 

And damn were you happy with the results. 

“Oookay, Els. . . You might be onto something,” you said appreciatively, nudging her shoulder once more as you found one to show her. 

Right off the bat, there was one pose in particular you knew you had to use. When you pointed to it to show her, she stuck her bottom lip out to show respect for the idea. “His shirt, too?” She asked with a sly brow. 

All you did was wink at her before pinning the scandalous picture to your brand new board.  

a/n: i love you all an inexplicable amount. you have no idea. covet is my baby + i think it's time i thank you all, once again, for loving her w me :') i wouldn't be where i am today without your support, my loves :''')

also..... after being asked several times, i gave in to the temptation... i finally took some time today to update the Covet Visualizer i made when covet was just an infant :') lol. you may view it if you'd like. however, you don't NEED TO. i simply am a very visual person, sooo i made it for my fellow visual learners/lovers. (IF YOU DO CHOOSE TO USE IT, PLEASE VIEW IT IN PRINT LAYOUT!! — esp if you’re using the docs app/are on your phone!!)

Taglist (continued in reblog):

@joshym, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlover, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @jennyraye20

I always try to tag everyone, but you all know how it goes! ughhh (taglist will be cont. in reblog !!) Please make sure you’re filling out my Google Form if you would like to be tagged and aren’t already on the taglist! <3

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Hiii (the anon who asked about the squid game request)

So i read your Hwang Jun-ho fic and had an idea where the reader is driving but without a seatbelt and the first time he leaves her with just a warning and when she does that multiple times so he decides to punish her (also if you can make the reader chubby like that fic it would be great)

I bet In-ho showed him how to do business! <3

Safety first

Squid Game masterlist

Dark!Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: Reader getting tied up, mild threats, lmk if I missed some!

"Sweetheart, I already told you last time we went out to put your seatbelt on." Jun-ho gave you firm glance over, then proceeds to look into the rearview mirror.

"Sorry.." you mumbled, reaching for the seatbelt and putting it on.

The drive went quiet and it wasn't long before you arrived back at your place. Jun-ho took you out with him on many occasions, mainly errands. But lately you repeadedly went with him neglecting your safety, which Jun-ho noticed and approached you one day after just coming back and you disobeying him once more.

He walked into your room, closing the door behind him, seeing you sitting on the bed.

"Did you thought I would just let you neglect your own security over and over?"

Without waiting for your answer, he made his way over, swiftly pushing you down and grabbing both your wrist to pin them above your head.

You tried to move away from him but even with your advantages he was too strong.

Jun-ho clicked his tongue. "Not a chance. Let me teach you something valuable."

He abruptly pulled you up with him, heading to his closet and pulling out some ropes, which one he swiftly wrapped around your wrists before carying you back to bed.

"I'm sorry!" You pleaded.

Jun-ho stopped, looking at you sceptically. "Sorry? Sorry isn't enough to keep you safe."

He wrapped the other rope around your legs, tight enough to make you feel it but not too tight to cause harm.

Once he was finished he stood up and admired your tied up form.

"See, if you can't keep yourself safe, I'm here to do it." He leaned down, caressing your cheek softly.

Then he grins. "I'll leave you like that for as long as it takes, but if you need anything all you have to do is scream."

He then straightened up, making his way to the door but stopped once there.

"Now think about what you did and if you will behave from now on or not."

With those last words Jun-ho left the room, leaving you there tied up and embarrassed on the bed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[yuyu1024]

Honeymoon

Pairings: Wonwoo × y/n

Genre/tags: marriage, non idol

Warning: fluff, not really smut but suggestive, pet names, cursing, semi-public

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.5k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N:

------------------------------------------------------

It's honeymoom trip to Italy. And here you are sitting by the pool of the vacation house your husband rented, alone and lonely.

He have been very preoccupied. It's not by choice but something terrible happened in the business that needed his attention. Being the boss, the son of the owner of their company, he is expected to be present on meetings so he have been on his laptop most of the time.

So to break down what your schedule have been so far is:

Day 1 was a bit okay. You guy arrived, slept and ate a lot. Also luckily to have the night time to yourselves where you got to have a date night and walk around with him and also make love before crashing to dreamland.

Day 2, phew, that started very hectic. He got the call from Korea and everything spiralled. It ruined his mood and then he had to say sorry to you. Even you had a call from home, from his parents explaining what happened so... its. Alright. You are sort of used to it. You've dated him for awhile so, you've seen some of it already

Day 3, still hectic but this day, finally he have time to eat and breathe. Though he still stayed at your room and been on calls.

Day 4, today... it's boring now. Well for you. You've finished the book you started reading yesterday and you've gonne shopping already as well. You want your man. You need your husband. So funny how you miss him even though he is just in the room.

You've had enough. You need to do something or else, he will continue working.

***

[Wonwoo's phone buzzes]

💖: i miss you.

💖: pls come and join me here at the pool.

🖤: almost done.

You pout as you see his response. You are not happy. So in exchange of being disappointed, you decide to trigger him.

Wonwoo is a very shy, timid and proper person. He is very put together. Though He look cold or a snob because most of the time because of how he carries himself around other people; Wonwoo is still a gentle, sweet, caring and kind person. But one thing most people don't know about him nor even his parents probably is how conservative he is. Especially when it comes to you.

His main reason why is, he does not want to share you. Your body is his only. No other person have the right to see, touch or even admire from afar. He is protective like that.

So to make him come down to you quick, you take a very risky video by the pool. A video of you removing your long white lace kimono revealing your white two piece bathing suite. And then teasing him by pulling the string around your neck, showing him a nip slip. On purpose.

💖: [video sent]

You smile proudly as you see him view it the second it got received.

[Phone buzzes]

"What the fuck are you doing?" He sounds pissed

"Sunbathing..." you mumble as you lay down your back on your lounge chair. "My husband is busy... he prefers to do meetings than to spend time with me on our honeymoon..."

He sighs heavily. "Y/N... you know why..."

"I know." Now you sound bitter. "But isn't two days enough? And by your secretary's report everything is doing well now right?"

"It is... I just--"

"What you're doing now is your regular work. And you chose to work than to spend time with me." You are more pissed than you thought you were. "Maybe you should just fuck your work and then give birth to more workaholics mini you. Ugh!" You got up from laying down and then end the call before throwing your phone inside your straw bag. "I should just probably fly back then..." you mumble to yourself

You angrily slide your feet into your sandals, put on your kimono on and drag your straw bag.

"Where do you think you're going?" He emerges from the door, finally.

You roll your eyes away and stomp your way into the house, walking pass him. Dramatic but it felt right while doing it.

"Y/N... honey..." he calls as he follows you to wherever you are moving to.

You enter your shared bedroom, saw that his laptop is still on the desk. "I'm just going to get dress." You say while sounding more disappointed that ever. You also looked like a child that their parents said no when you ask for a treat. "I changed my mind about swimming..."

"Honey..." Wonwoo holds you by the waist, stopping you from entering the walk in closet. "Don't." He snakes his arms around you and kisses your neck from behind.

"You just want me to go swimming so I'll leave you alone in our room... so you can work..." your snort. "Maybe we should've not went on honeymoon then."

"Stop... please..." he hugs you. "I'm sorry... I got carried away... I'm not used to having vacation... I went overboard... I admit it... so please... forgive me..." he turns you around to face him. "Please?"

You stare at your husband. His hair is still messy and he is still in his pajamas. "Turn off your laptop and phone then..." you pout. "They can handle it on their own... we just have a few days left here before we leave..."

"Okay." He says, smiling

"Promise?"

"Promise." He hums before kissing you on the tip of your nose. "So... should we go and swim now?"

You try to surpress you excitment but you can't really hide it which made Wonwoo chuckle.

"My wife is so darn cute." He says before scooping you off the floor. You yelped by the sudden action but you automatically put your arms around his neck.

***

However, instead of actuallt swimming around the pool, your husband instead just cornered you in the pool and didn't stopped making out with you.

He started from rubbing your arms to help you warm up a little because the water is cold to rubbing his pelvis in you whilst sucking your soul through your mouth. He does not even care that his glasses got splashed by the water. He is just focused on kissing you and skimming your body with his hands.

"Honey..." you breathe as he goes to your neck and nibble your skin, inch by inch.

"Hmm...?" He does not stop kissing your skin. He even reached your collar bone and then shoulder

"I thought we're swimming..." you giggle

He stops and looks at you. "We are at the pool right?" His lips curves into this cheeky smile. "For me, we are swimming..." he adds before going back to kissing your neck

"But honey..." you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands laying flat on his broad shoulders. "The pool is so big... its a shame we don't do a few dive or... float on that cute little pineapple floaty."

He sighs whilst his lips is still on your skin. "Why? Do you want to show everybody your body?"

"Honey... you know we're alone right?"

He tilts his head to the side, acting like he does not know. Or does he really?

"Wonwoo... seriously?" You pinch his cheeks. "We're alone at this house... the staffs only comes in the morning up to two in the afternoon."

"Oh."

"See? You being so busy that you already forgot what they told us on day1."

He licks his lips and a smirk spreads across his lips. "That's good then..."

"Hm? Why--"

He crashes his lips again to you but this time its more aggressive. And his hands, its not just sensually skimming your body now. It has more intentions than that.

"Ugh!" Your mouth suddenly drops open, eyes in pure shock and also lust when his fingers starts rubbing your clit. "Wo...Wonwoo..." you breathe

"Your mine..." he says before he goes lower so he could reach for your chest area. "All mine." He kisses your exposed skin under that swimsuit and he leaves a very very big mark after he sucked your skin.

You arch your back a little and spread your arms around the rim of the pool. And then you lift both your legs to wrap around his waist.

"Do you want me to continue, honey?" He asks

You nod. "Please..."

He pulls the string of your buttom, revealing you under water. "We don't need this." He waves your undies and then throws it to the nearest lounge chair. "And probably, we don't need thid either..." his palms your tits over the thin cover. "This is barely covering your beautiful tits..." he says

"I only wore it for you...." you say before planting a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, teasing him as well down there. "Your hard." You whisper while you squeeze him.

"How can I not? I have my beautiful wife in front of me... wanting me..." he cups your face and kisses you. Slow and sensual. "Maybe we should get out of the pool and find a more comfortable place... I can't still risk anyone... hearing my wife moan... its for me to hear and enjoy only..."

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Warning! This chapter focus on mental health struggles and body image issues (depression and ed) It’s a little dark so if that is at all potentially triggering to you please be advised and do not interact.

Chapter 20 - Miss Mama | ‘Ours’

“She’s okay? God, please tell me she’s okay.” Trent asked in a voice that was heart wrenching. Lauren felt her heart shatter listening to him sound so meek and broken.

“Erm… physically so so, emotionally, T, I’ll be honest it’s not good. I know she fucked up but this isn’t good for you two to be apart. I’m worried.” Lauren croaked out. “I’m here with her now but….” She tried to begin to provide some sort of update but Trent cut her off.

“I need her to be okay, Lauren. I can’t have her like this. I need her. She… She’s my whole world. I am nothing without her. I’m so worried. I was the one that caused all of this. I need her to be okay.” He started to cry. Lauren could hear the gasps for air and sniffles through the phone. “I.. God, I l..love her so much.” Trent began to stutter interspersed between his tears. Lauren hadn’t really ever heard him cry but she understood wholeheartedly how upset he must’ve felt because she was feeling pretty much the same way.

“I know…  I know you do, T. I think she needs to come home. She needs you. Seriously, I know you guys have a lot to unpack after what’s happened but being away from you, from Teddy… it’s killing her. She’s… she’s not well.” Lauren didn’t know how to describe or even articulate your current state. You were gaunt, your face didn’t have the glow it did when you were with him or your baby. Lauren had seen this version of you before though unfortunately. She hadn’t seen it in years but she’d never forget it. Since Trent entered your life there had been an incandescence about you. Sure, you had dips, everyone does but he was there now to hold you through it all. She recalled an ability you had that she hated to morph your body to completely display your emotional state. Your mental condition contorting into a physical one. “T…” Lauren whimpered, starting to cry. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, I know she’s told you. You’ve been so good for her, you’ve changed her whole outlook on life, you treat her the way she deserves to be treated. I’m just worried because this isn’t the first time I’ve had to do this.” Lauren took a deep breath. 

“I am made for her. I know that. That is my purpose. I am supposed to take care of her and cherish her and I was mad, I was upset but I don’t want this. I never wanted to be the one to kick off something like this. God, I’m going fucking mad, here. Why did I let her leave like that ... .Wait, wait, hold on, do what, Laur?” Trent paused his momentary rant to get Lauren to clarify. 

“Winnie told me about the first time. I hadn’t met Y/N yet. She just was so sick. She wasn’t taking care of herself. I know you already know about these things, I don’t have to relay it all to you again. Honestly, I can barely talk about it. I don't want to have to do this anymore” Lauren’s body shuddered remembering other time’s that she’s been in this very situation. “I’ve watched her destroy herself. She lets herself wither away. I've seen it again and again and I thought we were done. I thought that you’d be the person that finally brought her some peace and seeing her like this again… it’s breaking me. When I came into the apartment… god” Lauren continued to cry, her heart hurting thinking about her best friend struggling to see what everyone around her saw. You were beautiful, inside and out and not in a cliche way, in a way that was indisputable and breathtakingly refreshing. Trent’s stomach dropped. He actually thought he might’ve blacked out while Lauren continued talking.  “She’s okay, she’s safe and asleep but she just really doesn’t want to lose you, she couldn’t handle it.” You didn’t always have the strength to push past the type of destruction you’d inflict on yourself over the years but there was something that Trent was able to do that gave you hope, gave you moments of truly feeling love and value. Lauren believed in you. You could be strong but losing Trent was not something she wanted you to have to ever endure. That was your person. The one that was created and cut, defined and detailed just for you.

“Get her back to me, Lauren. I need her. I am not losing her. You will not lose her. This is stopping now. Whatever you need, just get her back home to me. I’m going to take care of her, I promise.” Trent said sternly. This was over. Being apart was over. Honestly, Trent wanted to just fly to New York right now but he couldn’t because he had a match. He wanted to say fuck football. Trust, he never said that and meant it but he did right now. He knew you’d be mad if he did it and he knew it would cause a stir so he bestowed all his trust in Lauren to get you to him.

As you laid in your bed, Trent was unavoidable in your dreams. He was everywhere. You cried in your sleep. Missing him. You couldn’t get up when your eyes began to flutter open, god knows how much longer later. Enough for Lauren to have your next 24 hours already planned out for you at the least. Your body was paralyzed by the crushing weight feeling as if you ruined your impending marriage and family over a stupid night out you took too far. The tears kept falling. In retrospect, you’re not sure they had stopped for the past few days. You were amazed you had any left in your tear ducts. You thought about how beautiful Trent was and how, in a nearly impossible way, what you created together, Teddy, your baby, was even more beautiful. You could hear their laughs echoing in your head in the most cynical mockery of what you were missing. You missed them so much.

You were filled with a mix of fear, regret, anxiety, heartache, and anticipation when Lauren got you back to your house. You felt your body go cold as you approached your once incredibly warm front door. Lauren stayed outside calling Jude for her own moral support that she needed. You were in a haze but this was really difficult on her as well. You punched in the front door’s code and heard the lock turn and shift. You grabbed the handle and pushed. The smell of your house hit you like a freight train. You could’ve physically fallen over with the amount of memories that flooded your mind at the scent. You covered your face with your hands for a moment and took a deep breath trying to compose yourself. You dropped your bag and your Rimowa at the door just the way you hated Trent did.  The alarm beep rang through the house alerting that a door had opened. The sound was like catnip. You heard the pitter patter of bare feet running clumsily on the hardwood floors. Around the corner swung the most perfect little girl. Her hair laid flat pulled into a bun with a few ringlet curls escaping. She had a light pink shirt on dragging a bear on the ground behind her with one arm holding its paw in her hand. You started to cry immediately.

“Mama!” Teddy cried. Tears coursing down her cheeks. Her initial excitement of who was at the front door halted by the surprise of how much she missed you. This was so unfair to her. You sat on the floor and pulled her into your embrace engulfing her. You sobbing along with her.

“My baby. I missed you so much. I love you so much.  I’m so sorry mummy was away. I’m so sorry, baby.” You pressed your lips to her hair and shut your eyes tight. She didn't really understand why you'd been away but boy was she happy to see you. You never wanted to let go of this little girl. Teddy continued to weep but she slowed eventually. Your hold of her only seeming to get tighter though as she fell into shorter breaths and sounds of hiccups 

“Miss my mama.” She cooed talking into your shirt. You squeezed her that much tighter. Your hand running over her head before you loosened your hold to be able to look at her. You pressed her nose against hers. “Mama no sad.” She whimpered, being able to see how visibly upset you were. It hadn’t actually been more than 72 hours that all this unfolded but you felt like she managed to grow up somehow. She was so emotionally attuned and intelligent. She nuzzled her face into the nape of your neck comforted by your smell and you by hers. 

“Oh baby, I know, I know you missed mama. I missed you so much. I’m not sad, I’m just so happy to see my little Teddy bear, yeah? Were you good for daddy?” The question just fell out like a habit. You shut your eyes barely able to process saying his name to her. It was then you heard ‘daddy’s’ footsteps coming to stand close but what still felt far away watching you in the foyer. He could tell immediately you’d lost weight in the span of days. The curve of your shoulder looked different, your cheekbones just a little more defined. 

“Dada! Mama home!” Teddy pulled away from you and turned around to Trent to tell him the exciting news. He nodded with a smile at her, not looking at you. You weren’t sure if this would be all that exciting of news to him. Nevertheless, you got yourself up on shaky legs. He came over to you in what felt like slow motion. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry. He hated when you cried and you didn’t want to upset him more but you thought you might seeing his gorgeous face again. You had no idea where the two of you stood. He said he was done but you were back home by Lauren's guidance for the sake of your daughter.  She didn’t want to do any of the talking for Trent, she was simply acting as a delivery woman. Trent extended one arm out to you. His big hand grabbing the back of your neck harshly, almost aggressively pulling your sylphlike body into his strong one. He brought his other arm around you slipping low across the small of your back the way he usually did. It was a bone crushing embrace. You felt his chest tremble and then he sniffed in harshly as he began to cry. You made him cry. You shut your eyes, extending the persistence of the horrible feelings you’d had for days. 

“I love you.” You whispered, tucking your face against his neck. Your nose flattened against his soft skin. Teddy stood quietly holding onto your leg not ready to let go. Lauren snuck into the house quietly and grabbed her. “I’m sorry.” you whimpered barely audible. You took a deep breath reveling in the feeling of his warm hold, relief and fear concomitantly falling over you.

“Don’t fucking ever leave us again. Your home, your place in this world is right here in my arms with our little girl. We cannot survive without you here. Do you understand me?” Trent cooed with a stern but shaky voice keeping you tight to his chest. You nodded as your pervasive tears returned. More and more falling the longer he held you. “We love you. God, fuck… I am so in love with you Y/N. Please don’t ever leave me. No matter how much I push, no matter what’s happening, you cannot leave.” He pleaded begging you more than he was instructing you.  

“I don’t want to leave, I don’t want you to not want me anymore. I want to come home, T. You’re the love of my life. You’re the only way I’m able to breathe.” You placed your hand over your heaving chest because your heart began to hurt so badly. 

“You can’t go anywhere else. Not letting you.” He said with a desperate release of air. Your other hand’s nails dug into his cotton t-shirt covering his back. You let him cry, loosening your claw and rubbing circles with your hand on his lower back whilst the other moved off your chest to gently scratch his scalp until he was able to calm down.

“You never cry…” You made the observation giving him a sad smile in between gasping breaths. You wiped the tears under his eyes gently. Guilt and empathy running down your face. 

“You’re worth crying for, baby.” he cupped your cheek. The heartfelt way he said baby to you returning, stilling your racing mind. He looked into your eyes and you felt everything around you disappear. Every worry, every physical thing around you vanishing, only him left. He kissed you and it was like someone restarted your whole nervous system. The cogs in your brain began turning again, the blood in your body began to pump again, your heart began beating again, the color began to rush back into your cheeks. “You owe me a few days of kisses, yeah? Teddy too. She’s desperate, apparently I’m not the same as mama.” He cooed, pulling away momentarily letting you know the work that laid ahead of you before returning his lips to their rightful place on yours.

“Oh no…” you couldn’t help but giggle picturing the conversations they must’ve had. Your lips curling into a toothy smile inadvertently pulling them off his. Listening to the two of them together was precious, you could only imagine what they were saying when they were alone. It made your heart swell seeing those two identical faces together.  “What’d she say?” you asked curious to hear about the exchange. 

“Nah, she had me running, you know? I felt like she knew the game she was playing as well. Dada want this, dada up, dada quiet. Just command after command and then in swept the critiques.” You smiled seeing his eyes light up recalling their days and Teddy’s hold over him.

“No mama does!” She rattled off squirming away as he attempted to do her hair after he placed her on his lap in front of him in a mirror in her room.

“I know she’s the best at it but can you let daddy do it today?” He asked her politely. He pulled her curls back into the best bun he could manage. Brushing it slicked back. She furrowed her brow at the finished product. He looked at her trying to make out why she wasn’t happy. He thought he did a good job.

“Bow! Dada bow, please.” She looked at him back through the mirror like he was dumb pressing her palm onto his thigh. Obviously, he forgot a bow. How did he not know that? He placed it and sighed. He kissed her cheek and plopped her on her own two feet.

“Are we hungry this morning? I am. I’m thinking we have the toastie you like.” Trent cooed looking at her as they walked down the hall inspecting his handiwork on her hair trying to find a flaw that warranted her disgruntled response. Teddy replied with a simple ‘yuck’ keeping her gaze fixed ahead focused on her tiny steps. “What why? What do you want then?” He asked inquisitively with a bit of a smile. It was hard not to laugh at her developing personality. He held her hand but let her navigate the grand staircase in your house roughly by herself. 

“Mama.” She responded to him confidently and calmly knowing not what she wanted to eat but very certain she’d prefer you to be there to make it for her.

“Yeah, well same…” Trent exhaled, inspecting the empty refrigerator he knew you usually filled with all the things you knew he and Teddy liked. It was the little things you did that had disappeared in front of his eyes now missing them tremendously in a day's time.

“I mean… it wasn’t good, baby.” His smile faded as he recalled the last couple days that were filled with some cute moments but more so difficult ones.

“Baby?” You asked, interested if that’s where you stood now. Were you on good terms? One of the last times he said it it really stung.

“Yeah, my baby. Forever but we really need to talk.” He spoke to you softly before taking your hand and guiding you into the cinema. It made you nervous hearing the door shut behind you. The noise reminding you the room had sound proof walls. God, you hoped this wasn’t going to be another loud fight like the one that transpired in your kitchen where you’d need those walls.

“I know we’re talking and it’s serious but…” You took a deep breath and tried to fight back tears. You sat on opposite sides of the couch in the room awkwardly as if you had just met. You looked at him with a pout and puppy dog eyes.  “I’m scared and I really need you. Can you just hold me please?” You whimpered out, quite pathetic. 

“C’mere, pretty girl. This is where you’re supposed to be, yeah?” He smiled softly, loving hearing that you needed him, that he was a comfort to you. You relaxed in his arms, relieved that was the vibe and not you two raising your voices. You laid your head on his shoulder. Trent hugged you tightly and you couldn’t hold back the tears that began to run down your face. You bawled his shirt in your fists.

“T… Who was that in the photos?” You sheepishly asked, unable to keep it inside anymore. You wanted to get what felt like the hard bit out of the way. You were lying to yourself and using him as a scapegoat. This wasn’t the hard part by a long shot. No matter his answer, there was a massive elephant in the room and it was you but you couldn’t shake the photos online of him and that woman. The thought of someone else, another girl spending time alone with him. Her somehow becoming his best friend. Him choosing her over you. 

“Baby…” He drew out the pet name, saddened you’d seen the photos and imagined something completely incorrect. 

“If you did, I’d understand.” You cut him off before he even answered you, excusing an action he didn’t do. He dropped his head back against the couch frustrated this was still where you were at, that things didn’t magically change when you walked back into the house. You believed he could treat you like that and it would be an okay thing, something you might’ve deserved.

“Stop. I didn’t do anything. It was George’s cousin. Baby… we gotta work through this. You need to understand I’m committed to you. This is why I met with her. You need…” He trailed off feeling awkward and terrible for what he was about to say. “ You need help.” He muttered out. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for it all, T, the final, New York.  I never wanted to hurt you.” You apologized earnestly.

“You didn’t hurt me, I mean you did but I’m more concerned about you hurting yourself. I was scared. I know Lauren told Jude not to but baby, we’re all really worried. They both told me about what happened in the apartment in New York…” He sighed hating that you were even having to have this conversation. You exhaled his name, defeated feeling the same. “Nah, I don’t want a defense or excuse. I can’t lose you.” He tried to deter you from the innate need to defend yourself. 

“Before Wembley… I don’t know. I got too drunk and I was alone and I got sad. It was a one off.” You had no ground to stand on, any reasoning would’ve been illogical but you felt the words jumbled rolling off your tongue. 

“It’s not. When Lauren visited, you got so sad, baby. It’s just not, you’ve said it’s happened before. Your dad told me, Winnie’s told me, Lauren’s told me. It might not be happening in front of me but it’s happening. Baby, I get that it…” He tried to keep talking to you but you gave him a face you gave to a lot of people. A facade of interest. A mask being pulled in front of your face, the elastic band snapping behind your head securing it. “Don’t…” he reprimanded you knowing it all too well. “Fine, I can’t understand but I imagine it’s hard to talk about. I’m scared. I’ll be the one to say it, alright? I’m fucking scared, Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted to you. Feeling like he failed by doing so. “We need to go to a doctor. I don’t mean this derogatorily I just think someone could help. I'm out of my depth here. I don’t want anything to happen to you. To my Y/N. To my baby’s mum.” He defeatedly let out. You could feel his heart racing pressed against you. You had so much to say but nothing would come out. You cuddled into him, laying your head on his chest. “I love you so much.” He whispered, breathing you in. Transitioning from sheer desperation to admiration for your body in his hands right now. Jesus Christ, what had happened? In a weird way he began to wonder if he felt like he had used you. “Am I making things worse?” He questioned you terrified of your potentially heartbreaking answer. You shook your head ‘no.’ Why didn’t this stuff go on in front of him? The inability to keep up with a golden boy wasn’t the problem but it was hard to not feel downtrodden. Trent was empathetic, he could hear it in the way you cried in the kitchen before you left.

'You expect me to be this perfect version 24/7 but I’m not. I’m not!” You kept crying. “I’m sorry. Fuck! I’m sorry, I’m trying but I can’t be like you, okay?” You whimpered, feeling defeated and broken.'

You didn’t really blame Trent for being good at well… life. Instead, you felt a crushing amount of guilt and shame for not simply being enough. The inability to measure up not to him but for him. You felt so tender in his arms like if he moved suddenly or too rough you’d break or bruise. He thought about the way he had sex with you, the way he uprooted you to England, the way he got you pregnant. He felt horrible that he inflicted so much on you physically. He just wanted to take care of you but alternatively, you’d never felt less used. The exact scenarios he was recalling flashed through your mind in the most blissfully painful way. You shut your eyes again. You wouldn’t change a thing, a lie, maybe a few things on your end but overall, no. His hands on you felt alleviating and comforting all the time. Even if he was fucking you roughly, even if you were jet lagged flying places to see him, even the grueling process of labor was fine all because he was there. 

“Thank you for caring.” You muttered out embarrassingly honestly, finally finding some words that you felt wholeheartedly would be good to start with. Trent’s heart, if it hadn’t already when he saw you come back into your house, it surely did just completely shatter. He kissed your hair and then over your ear before whispering to you. 

“I will always care about you. More than you could ever understand. I will do anything for you…” he paused and let out a breathy sigh. “Anything.” The warmth of his breath, the drag of his lips moving down your skin sent a shiver running up your spine. 

“T, we shouldn't, it's too soon.” You moaned feeling his lips cascade down the length of your jaw. The mood in the room shifting in slow motion. He didn’t mean to, it just was instinctual. His big hands moving the fabric of your top further and further up, finding more and more of your bare skin. You pushed yourself back into him, rolling your head to the side. Telling him one thing out loud and asking for something completely different silently. 

“It’s fine. We’re fine, baby. We’re gonna be fine.”  He rattled off, not able to think very clearly lost in a very thick haze feeling your body again.

“We can’t do this, T. I have more to say.” You whined, not meaning half the words you said. You definitely wanted to do this but you also did have more to say. He had no control at this point and you hated that it turned you on so much. His desire for you would always trump any sense of reasoning you had. You couldn’t stop him because the sensations running through you were invincible. The physical attraction and the sexual desire between you would always pull you back together. 

“No, no, this is going to be really good. I fucking need you. I missed you so much..” You turned towards him with a desperate look on your face. Your eyes filled with lust. Trent could get hard off the look on your face alone but feeling you again, touching you again was setting him off. He pulled you into a messy make out gripping your face before pushing you backwards onto more of the couch crawling over you. “We need this. You need this.” He whispered, breathing you in and moving his kisses to your neck. You kept him close to you pulling him to you by his face. His hands dropped to your waist. He was right, you needed this, you needed him. His soft warm hands pushed your shirt up to feel more of you. 

“I love you, baby.” You murmured your lips unable to not pull into a smile. He sighed into the crook of your neck hearing you say that. You brought your legs to wrap around him digging your heels into his back. You couldn’t think about anything else but him for the last few days and right now was no different. 

“I love you so much.” He cooed and his voice never sounded more caring and honest. He spoke into your warm skin, kissing them into the most sensitive part of your neck. The whole thing feels more intimate than ever. Love filling the room to the brim. He reached between you and looped the two layers of his boxer and trousers pulling both off. He revealed his tone v line and you let out an embarrassing moan, you taking your own clothes off swiftly. He pulled away from you and looked at your bare body. You felt so naked and vulnerable, he could sense your nerves. He tilted your face towards his holding your cheek. “What are you being shy about? It’s just me, yeah?” He waited for you. You nodded pulling him back into a kiss. You sighed in the kiss dragging your nails up his chest. He repositioned his body over yours and dragged the tip of his leaking cock through your folds. 

“T… please, I need you.” You whined. He smiled happy you were back to your normal comfortable self with him. He slowly eased into your dripping wet pussy. You moaned as Trent treaded carefully moving slowly inside. His face fell into your neck groaning at the feeling of you wrapping around him. He moved slowly but precisely. Your nails dug into his back as he kissed your skin. Each stroke loving and thoughtful. He picked up his pace though lost in the feeling. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He grunted pushing your thigh up further to your side, hitting deeper inside you. The grip of his fingers on you dug into your soft thigh. He found the spot inside you only knew, only for him, only for you, repeatedly 

“Baby, oh my god, T. I missed you. I’m so sorry. I love you.” You were unable to stop your babbles. Tears began to fill your waterline.

“Don’t be. I love you. You’re here with me. Be here with me. Fuck, you feel so good. Let me take care of you” He inhaled a sharp breath. His dimples s sank into cheeks as he gave a sincerely sad and sympathetic smile. “Tell me your mine, baby.” He murmured continuing to thrust into in a way that was so euphoric your tears began to fall. His voice was breathy against your ear feeling the same amount of emotion you were feeling. The weight of his body on top of yours feeling like nothing compared to the weight lifting off you two. Your orgasm approached faster and faster, minute after minute. He bit onto your earlobe and tugged, grabbing your attention. 

“I’m yours, Trent. I’m always gonna be yours.” You whimpered. His mahogany eyes poured back into yours. He felt his heart skip a beat when you pulled him back down into a kiss. He fucked you harder with a harsh grunt juxtaposed by the sweetest kiss to the bridge of your nose. Your hand dragged down from behind his neck down the protruding veins of his arms until you reached the rigid texture of the Patek Phillipe watch he had wrapped on his wrist. The knot in your stomach tightened. It only took a few more mind numbing thrusts before Trent’s head dropped into your neck. Your climax erupting inside of you, your vision going white. His cock throbbed inside of you, beginning to paint your walls. You moaned ‘I love yous’ simultaneously. You felt him pouring into you. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. You hid your face against him. He slowed and you felt your bottom lip quiver against his skin. An uncontrollable sob escaped you. Your emotions bubbled over once more. Trent pulled out as gently as he could. He rolled off of you but was swift pulling you back into him. You clung to him crying. 

“I’m right here.” He whispered, pulling you that much closer to him and yet it wasn’t close enough. You wanted to be completely surrounded by him. “Can you look at me, baby?”  He sounded so worried. You shook your head ‘no.’  “Y/N…” He grabbed your face gently and turned you towards him. “I need to know you’re okay.” He asked softly. More tears escaped.

“I’m okay… just love you so much, T.” You pouted up at him and you felt his tense hold relax. “I love you.” He pressed a wet kiss to your cheek the way you always pretended to hate but secretly loved. You wiped his wet spit off of you and giggled. Trent felt relief wash over him when he heard his favorite sound in the world. 

“Oh wow… so mummy and daddy are… fine.” Lauren laughed carrying Teddy past the cinema minutes okay from upstairs into the kitchen. She was currently FaceTiming Jude biding her time while watching Teddy for you and Trent to ‘talk.’ “I think they’re fine. I mean they’re fucking so it’s either a really good thing or a really bad thing.” She laughed. Hoping for the first option. “Should we make you some lunchtime, hmm?” She cooed to the little girl in her arms while Teddy eagerly nodded trying to grab hold of her phone curious about Jude on the other end. 

“You’re good with kids, Laur.” Jude spoke through her phone with a cheeky smile seeing her so attentive and kind to Teddy. 

“I think I’m just good with Teddy. She's chill so it doesn’t really count. I know this is how it works but she’s the perfect blend of them. All the best things I like rolled into the cutest, squishiest, baby girl in the whole world!” Lauren sang in a soft voice, pinching at Teddy’s tummy. Her squeal shrieking through the phone, Jude blinking his eyes a few times, taken aback by her response to Lauren.

“All done mama!” Teddy yelled as you met them in the kitchen, flush. You pressed a kiss to Teddy's hair on your way to get the water you needed desperately before attending to her. She had finished eating the lunch Lauren kindly had made for her.  

“Good girl.” You cooed with a smile. Lauren sat with a smug look on her face as she waited for the inevitable late entrance of Trent, who, when he did stride in, looked absolutely fucking elated.

“Dada miss mama,” Teddy told you as she saw Trent enter. It was an over simplified way saying Trent had really missed you. He sadly and softly smiled at you hearing her. Your heart broke a little that she’d been able to piece it together, that she could sense Trent’s sad mood. 

“Mummy loves you so much.” He’d reassure her feeling completely unsure of what was going on in your relationship.The few nights you were away Trent would tuck Teddy in as she cried.  Teddy would fall asleep only comforted by Trent babbling on little stories and tidbits about you, how perfect you were, how much you likely missed her. They’d watch videos of you and he’d melt.  “Want to see something baby? Want to see the day I met mummy?” He laughed remembering a specific video he had on his phone, he wanted to watch. Teddy nodded tiredly, adjusting to the new routine activity. He was a little embarrassed he even had it but it made him remember a really good time despite things being so bad right now. You likely didn’t even know this video existed. He kept it in a locked folder on his phone primarily where all your nudes and let’s say spicer videos lived. He smiled seeing you like that. Vulnerable, needy for him and in love. You looked gorgeous. He dragged his thumb over the screen. He just wanted to feel your soft skin again as he carefully picked the video of you out of the roll making sure not to pick the wrong one before he showed Teddy. It was a video Marcel had sent around in a snapchat which seemed mundane at the time. He remembered Jude teasing him about it the following day as you laid on his chest, experiencing a new warm feeling of comfort. The video was strangely endearing, like you could see your connection in real time. Energy and force pushing you together. The earth letting out a sigh of relief finally getting two people that were meant to be connected.

“Mama pwety.” Teddy looked up at him cuddling a plush bear with big sleepy eyes as they looked at the thumbnail before he pressed play. He nodded at her.  “Yeah, you have the most beautiful mummy in the world.” He confirmed to your daughter with a sigh before he hit play. Hearing your coquettish laugh in the video cozying up to him in a club years ago just about sent him into cardiac arrest. It hurt. God, did it hurt. 

“Oh, I missed you both lots.” You cooed, kissing her. She smiled, little dimples indenting in her cheeks. A very visual confirmation she was Trent’s little girl. You’ve said it before but you were comedically jealous of the genetics Teddy was inheriting from him. 

“More plebs!” Teddy screamed, grabbing for you. “Mama, miss!” She giggled loving that you were back and really loving your kisses, kicking her feet in her chair. She greedily hummed. “Lub my mummy.” She squealed excitedly. You wanted to cry but you didn’t want to stop kissing her to so you held off. 

“Mummy gives the best kisses, huh?” Trent cooed, bending over in front of Teddy to plant a kiss on your cheek with a hum. 

“You’d know…” Lauren quipped cheekily eliciting a proud  augh from Trent and a raised eyebrow from you. 

When Teddy eventually got sleepy you brought her upstairs for sleep. You went to her nursery and you pouted seeing that Trent had nestled one of your softest jumpers in her crib, the smell of you still lingering. There was a little framed photo of your family moved from its original place propped closer for her to see. You started crying so hard you had to sit down. You couldn’t believe you put your child through this, you couldn’t believe you put Trent through this. Trent came upstairs and you met him in your bedroom after you had calmed yourself down on your own. He held you in bed in a close cuddle. 

“I can’t remember ever going to bed without saying goodnight before. I hated this so much, baby.” You whispered into the dark room as he caressed your warm skin under a tiny camisole you had on. 

“We’re never doing this again. I’m sorry I got so upset.” He cooed behind the shell of your ear pressing his lips against you. You both stayed awake in a warm cuddle. You didn’t know what time it was but it as the color of sky outside fell into that warm navy color, you’d guess around 4 am though. 

“Do you still want to marry me?” You asked after a few hours of not talking, just happy to be back in his arms and good graces. Neither of you wanted to fall asleep but not out of worry, but out of comfort. You didn’t want to lose the cognizance of his presence, what he felt like, what he smelt like. 

“Not a single second went by where I ever questioned that, okay?” He hummed. You smiled through a pout. You’d hope that was true. He meant it though. He didn’t waver in his commitment to you. He told Tyler he had no plans of leaving you. Through all of this it didn’t even pop in his head you would call off the marriage. Maybe he was angry and didn’t like how things currently were but not have you, not marry you? Never. You turned around in his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips. He kissed you back and shut his eyes, getting tired, not being able to keep them open anymore. You let him rest but you stayed awake inspecting his features. You brought your hand up to his face and tracing his perfectly plump lips. You brushed your thumb over his high cheekbones. You started to fall asleep then dropping your face in his neck, tucked carefully under his chin, wrapping your arms around his waist, legs tangled together. You kissed his warm skin drowsily, letting him know how much you loved him even while he slept. He woke up first the next day. He did the same as you did last night inspecting your features. The morning sun seeped through your blinds. The golden light casting over you. You looked radiant and luminescent but your soul, your heart, he could feel it. It was more striking than your beauty. He kissed your forehead before pulling you that much tighter to him. 

Trent had his last game of the season. It was a little surreal mostly because you realized that when the next season began you would be married, the surname on the jersey you were in, would be your own. Lauren and Marcel accompanied you along with Teddy. You wished Marcel would shut up so you could live in your moment of bliss imagining being his brother’s wife and admire Trent in peace. The way sweat dripped over his adams apple, his jersey sticking a little to his abs, his cheekbones highlighted by the floodlights. He looked unreal. Lauren went inside and Marcel looked at you curiously. You could feel his eyes but you ignored him until he spoke.

“Going to tell me how things have been?” He looked at you completely ignoring the game now. You rolled your eyes but he was persistent. 

“Yeah, all fine” You said dismissively, keeping your eyes on Trent whilst tucking a loose curl behind Teddy’s ear. He rolled his eyes now at you.

“Y/N… you know you have to let us in, let him in, let me in. I don’t get why you didn't tell me to begin with?” He spoke, sounding heartfelt, keeping his gaze fixed on you. 

“When was I supposed...” You sighed stopping yourself from starting to defend yourself but you could see his brow raise in annoyance. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to scare anyone.” You exhaled feeling a lot of guilt wash over you. He was one of your best friends and you had been extremely selfish not considering how he must’ve felt and dense assuming he wouldn’t want to know.

“Well, you did a really bad job.” He laughed and it made you smile. You felt relieved he was at least being normal again with you.  

“Marce… “ You sheepishly got out. “I’m so sorry” you apologized earnestly, leaning your head on his shoulder. He rested his head on top of yours.

“We love you. Just want mummy healthy, right Ted?” He cooed picking up Teddy from you from under her arms. Her eyes lit up. 

‘Lub mama, Celly!” She giggled, reaching to hug him wrapping herself around his neck. You pulled her Liverpool jersey down for her covering her back. You smiling at her voice. She loved him so much. To be fair, Marcel just had good vibes and since having Teddy you felt like kids had a great gauge of people. There was something that was so endearing about her relationship with him. She trusted him and was comforted by him, it made you feel incredibly relaxed knowing she’d always have her uncles and your sister. 

“I’m so glad you’re mine.” Trent whispered, kissing your head. You held Teddy and smiled for the annual end of season family photo you so loved. Trent was staring at you though not the cameras. You had gone down onto the pitch for one final lap after the match. It was lovely as always. Sweet and a bit emotional. 

“Always yours.” You cooed, turning to kiss him. Teddy quick to want the same amount of attention you were giving each other. She pulled at your shirt with a cute grunt. “Yes, yes and you are ours, Teddy girl.” You kissed her with an eccentric ‘Mwah!’ her giggle following.

When you finally were driving home, you were tired, Teddy already fast asleep, and Trent absolutely exhausted. Needless to say it was a quiet ride. You looked at Trent as the colored lights lining the motorway leaked into the car. You smiled admiring his beauty. His focus on the road but yours on his jawline strikingly sharp. 

“What are you staring at me for?” He laughed, calling you out, flashing his eyes your way quickly. You giggled sliding your hand over onto his face brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“You’re so pretty. Do you know that?” You cooed admiring his annoying perfect skin, despite his annoyingly minimal effort.

“Yeah, obviously.” He replied with a straight face before he couldn’t hold in the cheeky childish smile he was trying to keep down. His perfect grin made your heart hurt. He was so pretty but you rolled your eyes at his pompousness. “Don’t pull a bird like you looking anything but leng.” He turned his adorable look to you.

“Yeah? How did you even manage to bag me?” You teased with a giggle. His smile staying put hearing the sound but he rolled his eyes at your joke. He tapped at his cheek with his free hand, keeping the other draped over the steering wheel. You raised your eyebrows at his gesture.

“Go on…” He instructed you. You laughed again and pressed a kiss where his fingers had been tapping. “Thank youuu.” He sang.

“Ridiculous.” You reached over again to him and squeezed his thigh. 

“Erm… Ow? I just played 97 minutes. Keep your hands to yourself.” He quipped. You squeezed his thigh again just because. You knew he liked the attention. He loves when you give it to him and he can just annoy you in return. 

“You love my hands on you. So full of it, you know.” You giggled with one more squeeze than attempted to remove your hand but he was quick to place his over top of it to keep it on him. 

“I do. I really love your hands on me.” He cooed in a voice that made you feel like you had a juvenile crush on him. You were flustered by the flirtatious comment. He could feel your arm tense a little so instead of keeping your hand on his thigh, he picked it up and brought it up to his lips to kiss the back of it.

“T… do you want to take me on a date this week?” You asked him bluntly, turning the direction of the conversation. You liked him flirting with you right now and you wanted more. You thought it’d be nice to have a night out just you two. Probably a good thing considering what had transpired.

“Yeah? Want me to?” He smiled big again squeezing your hand. You nodded in an adorably naive way.  “Yeah, beautiful, I’ll take you out.” He cooed turning towards you again. His mind beginning to comb through ideas of where he wanted to take you. You leaned over once more unprovoked to give him another kiss on the cheek before you tucked back in your seat shutting your eyes and resting your head onto the window. “Alright, sleepy girls, we’re home.” Trent’s voice waking you up from a daze you didn’t know you had fallen into. You turned to him with a tired pout as if to ask ‘can you please carry me inside?’ He laughed getting out of the car. He came around and opened your door but then he stepped away and opened the back seat. “I’m gonna carry our literal baby but if you want to wait I’ll come back and get you.” He mocked you. You obviously weren’t going to wait outside so you begrudgingly got out of the car yourself. Trent picked up Teddy gently making sure she didn’t wake. He held her tight to him. You shut the door of the car for him and followed them, proceeding to slip your arms around his waist and resting your forehead against his back. He shook his head as he got both his sleepy girls to bed. 

The next day you were getting ready to go to Dianne’s house up in your bedroom's wardrobe. You were doing your best to get back into your routine. Lauren was still there, leaving soon, but you had promised Dianne you’d go see her with Teddy. She heard rumblings about the situation, naturally. Trent had confided in her early on in your relationship when you first let it slip you had struggled with your health to him. He’d never really thought about something like that affecting someone he knew. He had girl friends and girlfriends but he never had a sister he had to share a bathroom with growing up. He didn’t know girls were skipping meals and doing diets or maybe the more extreme things you had been doing that you shared with him. She of course was empathetic to him and did her best to be a sounding board and not intrude but as a mum, as a person who knew you and loved you, she was concerned. So you promised you’d go. 

“Hey… have you seen my Van Clef?” you asked vaguely to Trent. “Like our one?” You clarified more as you were trying to put final touches on your outfit.  He puffed out some air realizing that he was going to have to confront his mistake head on. He hated himself. He had been trying to avoid it but of course you were looking for it, you wore it almost everyday.

“Baby…” he called you, watching nervously. You hummed acknowledging him as you dug through your wardrobe thinking maybe you had misplaced it. “It’s not here.” He told you sheepishly. You gave him a side eye confused but when he didn’t speak you turned your whole body to him. 

“What do you mean? I don’t understand.” At first, maybe you thought this was some sweet ploy of his. He came to you and slipped his hands around your waist. When he dropped his forehead against yours you felt the energy shift in the room. This wasn’t some goofy thing he was serious about something. 

“I had to bring it in to get repaired.” He got his words out so slow you clung to each one in anticipation. Your brow furrowed. He exhaled, dropping his shoulders. He wished he could lie but he knew it'd be wrong to. He was asking you to be honest with him; it would be incredibly hypocritical. “I found it when you were gone and I don’t know I just snapped and then it snapped.” He shut his eyes. You let out a measly ‘oh’ you felt the things he did when it happened. That necklace was your relationship and he had destroyed it. You were definitely in the wrong but it made you feel so sad you were actively trying not to cry or react. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t know what happened it just felt like such a punch in the gut finding it. I though that you didn’t want it or you left it, left me… it hurt. I’m sorry. Fuck.” He babbled incredibly quickly. You usually were fine with his accented words but your eyes narrowed trying to focus your spinning mind on what he was saying. His accent would come in thick sometimes and disappear other days. Relaxing with his friends at home, their words could feel like another language. Nervous doing press, he was more conscious of what he was saying, letting it slip away. 

“It’s fine… I guess.” You gave him a soft smile wishing you didn’t say the last bit. “I understand.” You kissed the tip of his nose and pulled yourself out of his hold. The room went ice cold. Trent’s mind was just filled with his inner voice screaming ‘fuck.’ It was hard not to notice the mood change after that. He hated it. “T, I didn’t leave it on purpose…” you told him right before you left, kissing his cheek, holding Teddy and heading to your car. You were so swift; he didn't even have the opportunity to respond.

“Laur... what am I meant to do here? Things aren’t just going to snap back.” Trent sighed, squinting, picking up his hand to shield his eyes to better make out Lauren’s face. They were sitting in your back garden as the English summer sun beat down on them. They stayed at home while you popped to Dianne’s. Despite your upset about your necklace it did make you happy that your best friend and your fiance “I don’t know, sometimes I just feel like a kid. I feel like I’m making stupid mistakes.” Trent was thinking about breaking the necklace. You’d probably be just as upset if he had managed to break your engagement ring but in a way this had stung more. The necklace was a decision he made before, a decision he made off of instinct, under your nose, completely infatuated by you. It was such an indication of how he felt about you from the very beginning and it was gone. A part of you was happy you didn’t have any visual of it all.

“You’re not but I know the feeling. If you didn’t pick up I was going to call your mum the other day. I was in a moment of introspection on the flight over and I almost laughed. Your mum? Oh hiya erm… can you help… embarrassing.” Lauren rattled off what felt like a million different thoughts. She shook her head but noticed Trent faint smirk on his face not pulling into a full smile but drifting into a tight line. 

“Maybe we should’ve.” He reflected. Maybe Dianne would’ve been more of a help than him. “Like she’s fine most of the time right? I make her happy? I try so hard and yet some days I can feel it like nothing could ever change it all.” He spoke looking and sounded defeated. 

“It’s not you T… She loves you so much. You make her happy, she’ll be okay, but she is the only one that can change it. You’re there for her and that’s the most important. She needs you and Teddy.” Lauren kept her eyes locked on his, making sure he knew she was being serious. She meant what she was saying. He couldn’t fix things but he was essential. Trent responded only with a soft ‘yeah.’ He thought to himself though that what you really needed was for him to repair your necklace and your relationship.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 21 xx

[mirainwonderland]

Part II

This is how I imagine Leon in a zombie apocalypse AU (like TWD or TLOU) would go.

A/N: Yay it’s finally here!! I’m so sorry it took a minute. I wrote it out and thought it was trash, and kept procrastinating proof-reading it. Until I finally proofread it and I was like wait no this is decent. Anyhoo here’s PART I (tags and/or trigger warnings there), if you haven’t read it, go read that first. Also if any of you want to be tagged in any future parts (or any random one-shots I do in this universe) let me know! Also do you guys want me to use Y/N, or should I just be self-indulgent? Lmk. K, bai and as always I love the feedback! ☺️

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Dead. Silence.

Nothing to be heard but the hollow footsteps of boots on the floor, and the incessant draft that shafts in from broken, sloppily boarded windows. A loose pipe rattles in the breeze.

The fact is unnerving.

A hospital would have been full of people when the infection hit. And if the staff were unprepared, it would have spread here the fastest. Floors and floors of people in close contact: it wouldn’t have been hard for whatever caused the infection to contaminate its surroundings like wildfire.

But what caused it?

Leon grits his teeth as he focuses an eye down the barrel of his shotgun. That was another reason he was so eager to get to Washington DC: information. The infection is much like the others he’s encountered before in his life, but there’s things about this one that seem uncharted. Inky blue instead of black veins, foaming drool leaking out of the corners of mouths, blood trickling from the corners of eyes.

Subtly different, equally horrifying.

Of course, to anyone else it wouldn’t matter that much. To Gus creeping alongside him, it probably didn’t matter if the veins were neon orange— he’d send a shell through their mindless brains anyway.

But to Leon… it gnaws at him. A churning desire to understand, to fix this like he’s been able to do so many times before, in spite of how relative ‘fix’ had been. To not let it come to a whole nation dropping to its knees.

It couldn’t end like this.

But where had the infection even come from?

To be honest, Leon had expected some sort of Umbrella signature written all over it. But the more infected he stared down at gunpoint, the more bloody eyes he saw full of hunger and madness, the more it felt like this wasn’t Umbrella’s doing at all. He felt it in his gut, and it was puzzling. It was terrifying.

This time was different.

“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath when two solitary infected wander the hall at the turn of the corner. They didn’t even have time to begin salivating before a quick, merciful bullet through the skull lulled them into a final, everlasting rest.

“Odd, thems are the only two we’ve seen so far.” Gus mutters, voicing the concern weighing on Leon’s mind.

“Goddamn it all.” Leon lowers the gun to his chest and spreads his feet apart in the middle of the hall, shoulders dropping. The irritation in his breath is evident, and Gus pauses to regard the younger man as he looks around at the carnage, with no sign of the bastards that caused it.

“Whatsamatter?”

Leon’s jaw ticks. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

They both look down the hall. The breeze whistling through a shattered window does nothing to inspire confidence.

“Let’s check them other floors before we jump to any conclusions.” Gus nods toward the stairwell.

They can’t bother getting too comfortable, but Leon relents, starting for the stairwell. This shouldn’t be the hill he dies on. They’ll just get the supplies they need and go. Mind churning with each step up, his shoulders just gather more and more tension. Still, in the back of his mind he can’t help but feel like this is easy.

Too easy.

A few strays linger in the halls. It’s the same story on the first four floors. The further up they go, the more the building reeks.

Dear god, he refuses to believe that this is the future.

Once they get to the fifth floor, something is immediately different. There isn’t an undead soul on the floor, but a grotesque chorus of noise filters through the thin ceiling. Leon and Gus glance at each other, not a word needing to be exchanged as soon as they step out of the stairwell.

They both hear it. They’ve found their answer.

“Guess we know where the party went.” Leon turns heel back toward the stairs. “Let’s check it out.”

Gus grabs his shoulder.

“What, are you crazy?!” He hisses.

Leon pauses to glance at him before pulling away to press forward. The smartest thing to do would be to leave. They probably have enough supplies to get them at least to DC. And willingly walking toward the groaning droves of infected borders on stupidity. But something in his gut won’t let him leave it alone. There’s got to be a reason a horde of them are congregating up there on one floor.

“We’ll be careful.” Leon doesn’t even turn around to speak, shouldering open the stairwell door again. “Let’s just take a peek and see what it’s all about.”

Gus grumbles something about the lack of brains around here, and follows.

They get up to the sixth floor. Peeking through the small oblong window in the metal door, he sees the horde.

There’s probably thirty of them. He hears Gus whistle under his breath. They’re gathered on the far end of the hall, trying to claw their way into a room. Room 608. They look mindless, but they’re smart enough to sense something they want.

“Okay.” Leon whispers, keeping his eye on the horde as he turns his body toward Gus. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.” He turns his head. “I’m gonna open this door on the count of three.”

He turns back to the window, nodding his chin toward one of the patient rooms closest to them.

“Make it for that door there. 602. There might be some of the bastards inside but we’ll handle ‘em. Got it?”

Gus looks bewildered.

“Have them zombies eaten the last bit o’ brains you got?!” He whisper-spits. “What the hell are you tryin’ ta do?”

”Just trust me. Ready?”

“No.”

“On three. One. Two. Three.”

Leon shoves the door open with his whole torso. He expected it to make some noise, and sure enough, a few of them turn in their direction. The smell of fresh meat makes them salivate, drool rolling down their chins and spittle flying as the most inhuman shrieks rip through their vocal cords.

“Go, go, go!” Leon shoves Gus toward the target door.

They stumble inside, finding it mercifully empty, and Leon slams it shut, locking it and barricading it with the first piece of sturdy furniture he can get his hands on.

“Fucking hell!” Gus wheezes, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “What are you doing now?” He groans as Leon shoves open the window.

“I’m gonna get into that room.”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Maybe a little.”

“What the hell for?” Gus hisses, while Leon fumbles with the straps of his pack and swings it off to the ground. “We’re like six stories up, you know. We should’ve been long gone by now!”

“There’s a reason that horde is trying to get into that room.” Leon slings his shotgun over his shoulder and climbs up onto the window sill. “And I’m gonna find out why. Stay here.”

He grabs onto the window frame and hauls himself up onto the ledge that runs along the side of the building. It’s a long way down, and he averts his gaze from looking that direction as he begins to inch his way along. He counts the windows, eyes fixing on the one to 608.

His boots have good grip. Gus leans out the window, watching him nervously, and Leon only dares to glance back at him once.

Fuck, this better be worth it.

He’s not scared of heights, but like any sane person, he prefers his two feet on some good solid ground majority of the time.

The progress is painstaking, but he finally makes it. He can’t open the window from the outside, but he expected that. A calculated swing of the butt of his shotgun shatters the glass. A few stray shards twinkle their way down, down, down over the side, reminding him that yet again: it’s a long way down.

One more glance at Gus six doors over, and he hops inside.

He pushes the drawn window curtain out of his way, using the meager light filtering in from the window to give him a little luminance. His boots tread carefully on the glass littered floor, shotgun ready.

At first, he sees and senses nothing. It’s quiet, it’s dark, and for a moment he’s confused as to why the infected are trying to get in here. The window was closed and locked, the door—

His eyes flicker over to it. It’s obviously barricaded. *Hm.* Not very well, but apparently it’s been good enough to hold back the weight of a 30 head horde.

And that’s when he sees them.

Feet.

Bare feet.

They’re small— smaller than his, anyway— and they’re peeking out from behind a dividing curtain. They’re very dirty, with a few minor cuts, and the soles look a little red-stained. But no sign of any disfigurement or those ugly, inky veins present— that he can see. Leon lowers his grip on his gun, keeping it accessible, as he takes quiet, cautious steps toward where the curtain bunches in the corner.

His fingers wrap around the muslin material carefully, quietly. Not wanting to scare whoever might be behind it, he peels it back slowly.

And he’s met with the biggest eyes ever, round like saucers with fear. They’re set in a pretty face under all that dirt and blood smudges on the skin. She’s… dressed in a hospital gown. Unbrushed hair frames it all in an oddly nostalgic picture that reminds him of himself the first time he ever saw such horrors.

Shit. A young woman.

“It’s okay.” He lowers his gun, pushing the butt of it down so the barrel points to the ceiling as it hangs off his shoulder. He sees the scissors clenched in a white-knuckled hand, shaking in a grip that’s too frozen to use it.

She’s probably harmless, but she’s volatile. And she doesn’t look immediately trusting. He does his best to make himself look approachable, and offers a hand out to her, palm down.

“Wanna give me those scissors?” He slowly works his hand towards them. “I’m not gonna hurt’cha.”

His voice is soft, and non-threatening. He watches her gaze drag from him down to the scissors in her hand like she’s remembering that she’s clutching them.

“What’s your name?” He tries to coax some sort of response out of her, but she seems frozen. That, or she doesn’t wanna tell him.

He can understand. She doesn’t know him. Even if it might feel a little relieving to find another survivor in the middle of the kingdom of the undead, trust is a rare commodity.

It’s a fact of life he knows well.

“I’m Leon.” He offers, hoping that knowing his name might help her out a bit.

His fingers finally reach the handle of the scissors in her hand, and a gentle nudge with the tips is enough to get her grip to loosen. He takes the instrument from her, tossing it away out of reach. It clatters on the floor, and he sees her shoulders loosen just a bit.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

This gets the barest head shake, but hey, at least he’s getting somewhere. He glances toward the window he came through.

“I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

It’s gonna be tricky, but he has to get her back out the way he came in. It’s that, or straight into the mouth of the beast; which isn’t even an option considering there’s an obviously zero chance for survival. He curses the fact that they left the radios in the truck. That would have come in handy right about now.

“How are you with heights?” He looks back at her, and watches as her eyes widen, looking between him and the window.

*Does this girl speak at all?*

“Yeah, I know.”

He takes her arm gently and pulls her over to the window. A loud bang against the door makes the already loose hinges groan, and he realizes that the time limit for escape plan is fast running out.

“Just don’t look down, got it?” He says without waiting for any sort of response. He pushes her up onto the window sill ahead of him, glancing back at the door as the shrieks on the other side grow louder with hunger.

They can hear him in here. The door groans.

“Go.” He pushes her out onto the ledge and climbs up after her.

She’s frozen looking down at the ground and he nudges her to press against the wall.

“Don’t look down.” He drapes one arm across her chest like a seatbelt to make sure she doesn’t fall, pinning her to the concrete. Adrenaline is pumping in his veins like a madman’s rush to all of his limbs.

They barely get a room over when a crash echoes in the space and time between them and room 608. The time window was smaller than he thought. The horrible screeches and raspy groans of the infected reach their ears as they trample into the now vacant room. Leon’s arm digs into her chest as her head whips around to look.

“Don’t look at them. Eyes forward,” he commands. His tone is calculated and focused, ignoring the flailing, clawing arms that reach out from the window into the air. They’re not coordinated enough to follow. Any that try will drop to their death. He urges her along.

Progress feels even slower on the way back; but relief floods his chest when they reach the open window and Gus’ gruff hands are pulling her inside, off the ledge.

The room is louder than when he left. He hops down inside too as the door groans under the weight of a dozen more infected.

“Shit.” Leon mutters, running a hand through his hair as he grabs his pack again. He rests a knee on the floor. “There’s too many. We have to get the hell out of here.”

“How, King Solomon?” He doesn’t miss the sarcasm so obviously laced in Gus’ tone. He rummages through his pack. “In case you ain’t seen, we’re surrounded at the only damn door!”

Leon glances at the girl, who’s crumpled on the floor between the two of them. She’s looking at them. Watching. He looks back up at Gus.

“Then we’ll climb out the window.”

“I ain’t gettin’ anywhere near that window!”

Leon yanks some rope out of his pack and stands up straight, nodding toward one of the hospital beds.

“C’mon. Help me tie it to something.”

“Are you a blunderin’ idiot, boy?!”

“Now!”

The hisses and groans are getting louder, more hungry with each line of dialogue thrown between them. The door groans.

They don’t have a lot of time with this one either. Gus wisely shuts his mouth, jumping into action to help Leon secure the rope to the heater.

“Alright.” Leon grabs his pack and slings it back on over his shoulder. “Gus you go first.”

“I ain’t—“

Leon grabs his arm and manhandles him to the window. “Unless you wanna be zombie meat, get on the damn rope!”

Something in the door makes a loud pop, and Gus thinks better of arguing.

“Alright, alright, I’m goin’!”

He heads down first, with Leon taking up the rear. Leon can hear the door splintering from the open window above them. He hears Gus cursing loudly down below. With breathless lungs they reach the level about two stories down, and Leon shatters a window with a couple .

And just like that, the chaos is over.

They sit on the floor, catching their breath. Dead silence once again falls on their ears like an unsung funeral song. Gus is the first one to stir from the floor.

“Right about now that damned silence is pretty nice.”

Leon looks around. His eyes land on her, arms wrapped around her body in that drafty hospital gown.

“You alright?”

A nod is all he receives, again. She doesn’t even look at him.

“What’s yer name anyway, girl?” Gus nods.

They both pause to look at her. Leon tilts his head, curious to see if she’d answer this time.

Her eyes are fixed on the floor. There’s something going on with her. And it’s not that she doesn’t trust them.

Her lips part, shoulders curling.

“I don’t know my name.” She mumbles.

Leon and Gus exchange a look.

“You don’t know your own name.” Gus deadpans as he pushes himself up onto one creaky knee.

Another small shake of that messy head.

Leon’s gaze drops down to her wrist, a crumpled hospital wristband adorning the dirty skin. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her arm to pull it to where he can read.

“Y/N.” He announces. Her head lifts, and he gives her wrist back to her. She cradles it, looking at the blood splattered wristband. Her quiet whispers read off the name and the date of birth written there.

“You don’t remember anything about yourself?” Leon reiterates, and is met with another quiet head shake.

Great.

He feels bad for her. He wonders what her story is, and realizes she probably does too. He can imagine how she must feel. Not just finding herself in a terrifying world with no answers, but suddenly not knowing who she is at all.

He knows what it’s like to not know who you are. Not in the sense of forgetting your name or your social security number, but what the identity crisis is like. What it feels like to be molded into the perfect machine for someone to dictate your every move. To be nothing apart from what you were trained and brainwashed to be. There’s a loss of identity in that, too.

Standing to his feet, he grabs her arm and helps her to hers. Gus follows suit, adjusting his pack.

“Let’s get out of here. Don’t particularly care to be someone’s lunch.”

“Yeah.” Gus grunts. “I’m a lil’ attached to my brain myself.”

Leon sneaks glances at her as they scour the remainder of the building down to the ground floor. Having her with them might complicate things a little bit. But if they can find a car to get them to DC, it might not be so bad. Once there, he can turn her over to someone who will make sure she gets the care she needs.

Still holding on to hope that there’s answers at the capital, he takes the first step back out into the street.

──────────────────────

Tags: @daliastar @moonlight-kisses-blog @fuckshitwhatisnttakenalready

[s0lar-ch3ri]

for my friend @marz-likes-palaces on here! (sorry for tagging, just thought maybe youd wanna see this) a full list of all my jrwi fics, their tws and what parts of their campaigns they spoil (as well as how big of spoilers are referenced)

this will be absolutely editted and kept up to date so if you want me to add a fic onto here lmk (im also only counting completed fics unless its a multichapter fic im working on)

also keep in mind, fics will have hc details! just assume whatever i warn for in spoilers is based around canon!

another note, the way i list them is in no specific order, just how i find them and everything!

okay third note, the amount of trigger warnings a fic has may scare some, but i try to tag for anything (even brief and light hearted mentions) of triggering topics. while i have tried to go through and write the tone of each fic, i cannot guess perfectly how someone else may interpret it, keep that in mind!

most recently edited date: 6/30/25

putting them all below the cut cause i write A Lot of fics (if any fics are wanted to be linked, lmk)

EXPLAINING THE SET UP: [fic title]-additional needed info after (ie: if its a multichapter or incomplete, if its whump or hurt/comfort) [ONLY FOR MULTI-CAMPAIGN FICS] campaigns: feels self explanatory, writes which campaigns the characters are from who it involves: does not include mentioned characters or characters that dont play a big part in the fic, for example if a fic has chip and jay and mentions gill, ill only say it involves chip and jay setting ep wise: different from a spoiler warning, gives a setting timeline wise as to what the characters may be like (as well as an idea of what spoilers may be referenced) trigger warnings: self explanatory, if youve read the fic and something needs to be tagged, please do inform me, i cant guess every tw (NOTE: the multichapters, while i dont write many, are structured differently! i list the tws of each chapter as well as tws for throughout the fic!) Spoilers?: mentions around where spoilers are as well as how involved in the story are they (as to let someone know if they can read a story without knowing x and y), including spoilers that are referenced in the fic [NOTE ONLY FOR MULTI-CAMPAIGN FICS: spoilers will be listed separately! (ie: if theres someone from the suckening and from riptide, it would list what spoilers if any are from the suckening then what spoilers if any are from riptide) RIPTIDE:

Different Sensory Feelings-hurt/comfort who it involves: Gillion, Jay, Chip, Pretzel setting ep wise: pre-ep 1, post chip and jay oneshot trigger warnings: implied sensory issues Spoilers?: it does mention parts of Gill's past such as his training experiences, but nothing too big in detail. the most mentioned are things referenced in the jay and chip oneshot, which it is set to pre-ep 1, so fair lmfao, even then though it keeps out a lot of big parts. I'd say minimal to no spoilers!

Pretzel Steps in (to Gillion's Stupidity)-hurt/comfort who it involves: Jay, Pretzel, Gillion setting ep wise: sometime post ep 53/post BLOCK arc trigger warnings: threats of violence occur Spoilers?: this is based sometime after ep 53, and makes reference to a big spoiler, it also references events that occurred in ep 15. basically, 2 big spoilers that provide important context to the fic, do not read without knowing them just in case!

The Accident-hurt/comfort who it involves: Caspian, Gillion setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, sometime after the paramount championship (at minimum, post ep 41) trigger warnings: gillion faces a training injury Spoilers?: Caspian in of himself is a spoiler in a way, being mentioned first in the championship, but if you don't count that, then the references to Gill's training make this minimal to no spoilers!

Unraveled-hurt no comfort (includes optional comfort ending) who it involves: Gillion, Chip setting ep wise: pre-ep 1, post chip and jay oneshot trigger warnings: referenced child abuse, implied manipulation, implications of some religious trauma i wanna say, a fight kinda happens, ends with a breakdown Spoilers?: makes heavy references to Gillion's training, it is what the fic is about, and also makes reference to details revealed around ep 70. the big details of Gillion's training are revealed across the faewild arc (75-82), so i'm gonna say this one has major spoilers, and while you don't need to know the exact events to understand what's happening, i will recommend coming back when you understand somewhat of Gill's training!

gillion rambles about his baby girl-fluff who it involves: Gillion, Old Man Earl, Pretzel setting ep wise: most likely sometime after they re-meet Marshal Jon but before the tournament (post ep 25, pre ep 28) trigger warnings: none from what i'm seeing! Spoilers?: to know that they re-meet Marshal Jon is a small spoiler i think, but nothing major or needed to be known, so i count this as a minimal to no spoilers!

Destiny is cruel.-hurt no comfort (includes optional comfort ending) who it involves: Gillion, Pretzel setting ep wise: vague/unspecified trigger warnings: violence, character death, blood, murder, small emetophobia mentions, self blame, a bit of arguing, and if you read one of the endings i wrote an extra warning of suicide references Spoilers?: there's one minor spoiler which talks about Pretzel, with sources i'm finding it's more or less mentioned by grizzly in his discord, there is also reference to an event with Chip and Gill which is mentioned around ep 15 in one of the alternative endings, but otherwise this is a fic with minimal to no spoilers!

love calls, help me learn to answer-fluff who it involves: Edyn, Chip, Gillion setting ep wise: sometime after meeting Edyn (minimum post ep 63 as they're on the sea again) trigger warnings: references to a drunk marriage Spoilers?: the drunk marriage is a small spoiler for the Loffinlot arc (eps 2-11), and the fact they know Edyn doesn't exactly happen for a while, there is also mentions of another character met during the paramount championship (eps 27-33, if counting La Alma's part then it's from eps 27-38). the biggest spoiler i'd say is referencing an event from the Desire Isle arc (eps 17-25), which isn't too lore important. i know many people don't count characters that much as spoilers and all the event spoilers are pretty minor, so i mark this as minimal to no spoilers!

human research-lighthearted who it involves: Jay, Oliver, Gillion setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, would be post Desire Isle arc as to allow Ollie on their ship (minimum post ep 25, around ep 26 and beyond) trigger warnings: emetophobia mentions from Jay, the fic is focused around Jay being on her period Spoilers?: Oliver is a small character spoiler, but otherwise this would have minimal to no spoilers!

Gill's Greatest Enemy-small hurt/comfort who it involves: Gillion, Oliver, Jay, Chip setting ep wise: post Faewild arc (eps 72-82) trigger warnings: Gillion's trauma is referenced in how he handles his fears, there's small blood mentions from a cat scratch Spoilers?: there's a couple referenced (character mentions, a fact on gill, a duel of friends (ep 15), event mentions, name of crew enemies), and the presence of several characters is quite spoilery, however not needed to get what's happening in the fic! as such, i deem this one minimal to no spoilers!

fates called for the undeserving to punish me-hurt no comfort (includes optional comfort ending) who it involves: Oliver, Chip setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, like the other one would have to be after the Desire Isle arc (minimum post ep 25) [note: this isn't canon compliant with the timeline!] trigger warnings: major character death, murder, child death, corpses, and if you read to the added ending disassociating Spoilers?: the biggest spoiler is just Oliver, who's introduced around ep 17, but otherwise this is minimal to no spoilers!

chip is bad with...this-hurt/comfort who it involves: Jay, Chip setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, like the last two would be post ep 25 minimally trigger warnings: denial, implied heavy self blame Spoilers?: small references to events that happen in the Liquidus arc (eps 70-72), one event in the Faewild arc (eps 72-82), and characters, but nothing too important to know, as such, the fic is counted as minimal to no spoilers!

fins and why you stopped hiding them-fluff who it involves: Chip, Jay setting ep wise: pre ep-1, post Chip and Jay oneshot [note: this isn't canon compliant with the timeline!] trigger warnings: none of note! Spoilers?: i mention an item they do only get in the Edison Kingdom arc (eps 43-48) as well as reference Chip's past (specifically the Black Rose Pirates, which you can find the oneshots of on the JRWI channel), but nothing super major, so once again i count this as minimal to no spoilers!

Mental Struggles-small hurt/comfort who it involves: Oliver, Chip setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, after they re-meet Lizzie (minimum post ep 27) trigger warnings: Ollie faces focus struggles due to undiagnosed ADHD (it's a small breakdown he has), Chip mentions taking medicine Spoilers?: character's of Chip's past are referenced (they're revealed in the Black Rose Pirates oneshot), a language Chip knows which is only revealed around ep 86 is referenced, major planned events are vaguely referenced (their first mention is during the Paramount Championship arc, which is eps 27-38), and there is very vague reference to a major event that happens with Ollie (first appearance in ep 41), however none of them are referenced heavily enough to need to be caught up to understand the plot! as such, this one also falls under minimal to no spoilers!

And I am Just a Boy-lighthearted who it involves: Chip, Oliver setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, after Ollie's joined the crew (minimum post ep 25) trigger warnings: there's a bit of non-sexual tit descriptions but otherwise nothing i can think of Spoilers?: i do mentions of an object Chip gets in the Edison Kingdom arc (eps 43-48), but that's unneeded to read this, making it yet another minimal to no spoilers!

Cur(s)ed Flesh-INCOMPLETE, PLANS FOR A CHAPTER 2 (hurt/comfort) who it involves: Chip, Oliver setting ep wise: post ep 48 minimum trigger warnings: body dysphoria and self confidence issues Spoilers?: this one is based around major spoilers in ep 41 (also is based around a tool acquired during the Edison Kingdom arc, or eps 43-48), so this one is major spoilers and would be much better to return to after you watch ep 41!

rocking waves, memory cave-character study, more on the angsty side who it involves: Lizzie setting ep wise: sometime after ep 103 trigger warnings: references to dead people Spoilers?: heavily spoilered based, from events back in the Black Rose Pirates oneshot, to major details revealed only in ep 101 (as well as a major event referenced as background detail which starts in ep 103), as well as other details of Lizzie's backstory being used, this is a character study of her mostly! i dont recommend reading without being caught up!

all my troubles on a burning pile / all lit up and i start to smile-whump who it involves: Chip setting ep wise: minimum post ep 109 trigger warnings: self harm, burning alive, self-hatred, depersonalization of sorts (separating the current state of one's self from who one is, if that makes sense) Spoilers?: heavy ones, it's based around a major event of ep 109, makes references to Chip's past (focused around a detail revealed during the Noctis arc, or eps 64-67), and is focused on major details based around Chip generally, do not read if you haven't seen upto ep 109!

pull the axe out your face and say "was it the boogeyman?"-whump who it involves: Chip setting ep wise: vague/unspecified trigger warnings: insomnia, hallucinations, accidental self harm Spoilers?: the beginning references an arc Chip goes on that people call his "Nightmare arc" (eps 62-70), as well as mentions a character who appears in the Noctis arc (eps 64-67) but otherwise is pretty spoiler free! id consider this one a minimal to no spoiler fic!

wont you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?-comfort then hurt who it involves: Drey, Ichabod setting ep wise: post Black Rose Pirates oneshot, pre Chip and Jay oneshot [note: this isn't canon compliant with the timeline!] trigger warnings: gun violence happens at the end, and things with sirens also happen Spoilers?: yep, this is based around a key event for the world of Riptide, and is based around characters who are kind of spoilers (Drey-in the Black Rose Pirates oneshot; Ichabod-eps 68-68.5 [yes, that is 2 episodes]), don't read until you've gotten past ep 68 part 2!

a destiny started too soon for you.-hurt/comfort who it involves: Finn, Gillion setting ep wise: post Black Rose Pirates oneshot, pre Chip and Jay oneshot [note: this isn't canon compliant with the timeline!] trigger warnings: violence and fighting, Gillion's trauma is shown through Finn's eyes Spoilers?: it is based around a major event for Gillion (revealed during the Faewild Gilligone arc, eps 75-82), so i will say relevant major spoilers, don't read until you're past ep 82 (and also recommended to have watched the Black Rose Pirates oneshot for some additional context, but it's not needed!)

dont lose your head/i didnt mean to hurt anyone-whump who it involves: Chip, Gillion, Oliver setting ep wise: minimum post ep 109 trigger warnings: decapitation, undead character, self-loathing, disassociation, de-attachment, and this is indeed another whump fic so keep that in mind! Spoilers?: heavily based around a major spoiler of ep 109, as well as references to Chip's past (specifically details revealed in the Noctis arc, eps 64-67), don't read until you've passed ep 109!

a wrench in the gears.-hurt/comfort who it involves: Ensa, Jay setting ep wise: sometime around ep 106 trigger warnings: Jay does yell at some people but otherwise nothing too big i think! Spoilers?: Ensa in of herself is kinda a spoiler (first appears in ep 96), but the biggest of spoilers comes from the location theyre in (which they first arrive to in ep 103), as such i say dont read until you've reached ep 103 and beyond!

The Unbelievable-PART OF A COLLECTION OF CRACK SHIP FICS (crack taken seriously, light hearted) who it involves: Earl, Niklaus, Gillion, Jay, Chip, Oliver, Marshal Jon, Pretzel setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, implied to be sometime after the Desire Isle arc (eps 17-25) trigger warning: none i can think of! Spoilers?: Niklaus himself (as well as Jon and Ollie) could be considered spoilers (Ollie's first appearance with Jon: ep 17; Niklaus appears for the first time in the Loffinlot arc, eps 2-11), and a detail about Earl is referenced (this detail is mentioned during the Loffinlot arc if i remember correctly, and if not, it is a minor one and not talked about much), but is basically a minimal to no spoilers fic!

Isn't Always That Complicated-PART OF A COLLECTION OF CRACK SHIP FICS (crack taken seriously, hurt/comfort) who it involves: Earl, Niklaus setting ep wise: minimum post ep 110 trigger warnings: while they are a crack ship, there is a fight between a married couple, as well as descriptions of them kissing Spoilers?: the very setting is indeed a spoiler, i recommend reading after ep 103 (where the setting is first shown) or ep 110 (to understand a detail referenced in this a bit)!

cheers to my light (your the miracle year round)-PART OF A COLLECTION OF CRACK SHIP FICS (crack taken seriously, fluff) who it involves: Earl, Niklaus setting ep wise: in the future/post ep 115 [note: this isn't canon compliant with the timeline!] trigger warnings: mentions of alcohol, small doses are consumed but nobody is drunk, brief kissing descriptions Spoilers?: the worst of them is characters only revealed in the recent arc (eps 103-115+), but otherwise there's minimal to no spoilers in this one!

PRIME DEFENDERS:

no shame but mine to soothe me-vague hurt/comfort who it involves: Dakota, Wavelength setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, sometime after meeting Ashe (minimum post s1 ep 11) trigger warnings: eating non-edible objects (the biggest danger implied is the idea of eating glass shards), Dakota has an outburst and yells, but nothing too big! i do also make him imply a dick joke 2 different times Spoilers?: id consider Ashe the biggest spoiler, and even then he's not a big part in this fic, making it marked (pun unintended) as minimal to no spoilers!

weird pine trees in my minds forest.-fluff who it involves: Vyncent, William setting ep wise: post s1 finale, pre s2 ep1 trigger warnings: none i can think of! Spoilers?: theres not really any flat-out stated spoilers! as such, i deem this one the first no spoiler fic!

a mouth to bite with; wouldnt your corpse just look so nice?-hurt no comfort who it involves: Vyncent setting ep wise: post Prime Force oneshot, pre s1 ep1 trigger warnings: cannibalism, gore, blood, and keep in mind this was for freak week! Spoilers?: not exactly, the main canon detail discussed all is mentioned, even if briefly, in ep 1! another no spoiler fic!

i know ill never repay this debt.-hurt no comfort who it involves: Xavier, Cantrip (mentioned but plays a big part in this) setting ep wise: sometime during s2 ep 34 trigger warnings: implied death and panic attacks Spoilers?: MAJOR spoilers for the grayscale arc (s2 eps 32-34), dont read until you get past it!

ill save everyone when i save you-hurt/comfort who it involves: Dakota, William setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, Bobo is present so would be post Amalgamation/Harttawa Island (s1 eps 2-5) trigger warnings: suicide attempts, stay safe my friends! Spoilers?: Bobo is a minor spoiler, but otherwise this counts as a minimal to no spoiler fic, just please mind the tws!

im an even worse burden then what i let you see-hurt/comfort who it involves: Wavelength, William setting ep wise: vague/unspecified trigger warnings: small amounts of paranoia, period talk occurs, one singular mention of drugs and i guess uh stealing if thats a trigger for anybody Spoilers?: a detail about Wavelength is briefly discussed (revealed in s1 ep 11), but since its not that big, im counting this as a minimal to no spoiler fic!

ill get it figured out for you-hurt/comfort who it involves: Dakota, William setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, implied to be post s2 trigger warnings: violence, anger issues Spoilers?: theres the smallest mention of events mentioned only in s2 ep40 or the end of s2, but its not a needed detail, so i say this fic is minimal to no spoilers!

Waves of Sensory-hurt/comfort who it involves: Vyncent, Tide, Miss Gilbert setting ep wise: post Prime Force oneshot, pre s1 ep1 trigger warnings: sensory overload, panic attack i wanna say kind of Spoilers?: it references big parts of Vyncent's backstory (talked about in the Fauna arc, s2 eps 7-11), i recommend watching past s2 ep11 at least to understand whats happening!

this heart was hallow, so hard to swallow, before you-lighthearted who it involves: Vyncent, William, Stryder, Alphonz, Ram setting ep wise: post s1 finale, pre s2 ep1 trigger warnings: typical sickness things (bedridden-ness, coughing, etc), small mentions of "putting out of misery" for illness reasons (nothing very big), small mentions of animal murder (specifically of rats), descriptions of kissing Spoilers?: details about Vyncent's powers which are only really discussed around s2 play a big part in this (my wording is terrible i fear), so i recommend finishing s1 before reading!

the ashe winters 9/11 fake transcript-transcript, crack who it involves: Ashe, William, Vyncent, Dakota, Slimecicle, Yakko, Condifiction, Grizzly, Bizly setting ep wise: post s2 finale/post s2 ep40 trigger warnings: 9/11 jokes, references to destruction (minimal and in a comedic way) Spoilers?: it is based around and discusses big events from the season 2 finale, do not watch unless youre okay with that spoiler!

the dead shall rot / your breath is forced but real-transcript, hurt minimal comfort [ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, DOES NOT FOLLOW CANON TIMELINE AT ALL] who it involves: Mr. Wisp, Mrs. Wisp, Tide, William, Bizly setting ep wise: pre s1 ep1 trigger warnings: body horror, corpse descriptions, rot and decay, offering parts of self, panic attacks of sorts (implied), major character death Spoilers?: minus the mention of a more major character, nothing! as such, minimal to no spoilers!

the savior, the hero, and what he wants for me-transcript, hurt/comfort who it involves: Ashe, William, Vyncent, Dakota setting ep wise: post s2 finale/s2 ep 40 trigger warnings: mini argument, joking threats of killing, the end bit is myself being shot dead but its in a funny way Spoilers?: yep, the events in this are heavily based around s2 events and takes place during an event that is mentioned in the finale! do not read unless youre okay with spoilers and everything!

it makes you feel so giant/once we were so small-transcript, vague hurt who it involves: Ashe, William, Vyncent, Dakota, Mark setting ep wise: post s2 finale/s2 ep40 trigger warnings: joke arguments in the beginning, i do a tad bit of taylor swift slander, the place is destroyed so there is broken glass, references to losing control of yourself, brief mentions of being trapped in a confined space (never described), the entire transcript is the re-facing of trauma and seeing the experiences felt there were ones you were too young for, theres a suicide joke at the very very end Spoilers?: yep, several for events in s2 and the area theyre in has many references to the s1 finale, dont read until youve finished pd s2 i say!

your sins wont wash out (thanks for coming back to me)-hurt/comfort who it involves: Ashe, Wavelength setting ep wise: post s2 finale/s2 ep40 trigger warnings: death is heavily referenced (death of a friend to be specific), blood and violence (not in detail), gagging, attempts of self harm, panic attacks, non-sexual nudity and bathing (the nudity is never really described), self blame and guilt, possession is referenced a bit, unreality and the feelings from it Spoilers?: MAJOR ONES. ashe is only introduced at ep 11 s1, a big villain who drives the trauma only becomes big in the s1 finale, and a main point of the hurt is based on a huge event of s2 ep 39. if you dont mind being kind of confused, you can read without watching, but if you dont want spoilers, hold off on this one, major spoilers!

if you dont tell then i wont tell and nobody will ever know-CURRENT STATUS: 7/23 CHAPTERS WRITTEN (hurt/comfort) who it involves: Wavelength, Dakota, Grandma Cole (so far mostly mentioned) trigger warnings: throughout-implied child abuse, the processing of trauma, Dakota consistently blames himself for his injuries (believing he is "weak" thus why he couldnt "handle it") aka guilt complexes chapter 1 [hurt/comfort]: threats made with a gun (not ever fired), panic attack, descriptions of severe injury, hyper-ventilation (from panic attack), blood is briefly mentioned, Dakota talks about being attacked by bears, mentions of heartbeats chapter 2 [minimal hurt]: descriptions of pain, another panic attack ensues, descriptions of mass injury (one big scratch across the chest) and other injuries, dried blood is mentioned, once again the topic of bear attacks is discussed chapter 3 [minimal hurt]: panic attack part 3, brief mentions of dying via bleeding out, mentions of heartbeats chapter 4 [lighthearted]: the first 2 throughout tws are the main ones that apply here chapter 5 [hurt minimal comfort]: flashbacks to abuse and violence, electrocution, descriptions of pain (as well as poor handling of said pain), mentions of heartbeats chapter 6 [minimal hurt]: yelling, flinching, expectations of pain, mentions of heartbeats chapter 7 [light-hearted hurt]: references to a deceased partner, guilt complexes, self-blame, implied glorification of harm, small identity crisis Spoilers?: much of the premise is based around a big spoiler of Dakota's backstory (which is revealed in s2 ep21), as well as a massive event of the s1 finale is referenced. as such, please hold off until youve seen past s2 ep21 minimum!

THE SUCKENING:

sherrifs and soda cans.-vague hurt, lighthearted who it involves: Soda, Deacon setting ep wise: during ep 10 trigger warnings: it is based in a jail if that bothers anybody, no actual big arguments happen but there is bitterness between Soda and Deacon Spoilers?: a note i put onto the fic has the worst of spoilers, but its just some characters. while it is based around a major event, you dont need to be caught up to it to understand whats going on! as such, while i recommend reaching ep 10, it is not a requirement for this!

battling scars-hurt/comfort who it involves: Soda, Emizel setting ep wise: vague/unspecified trigger warnings: the fic references scars throughout (nothing ever described to detail), smallest mentions of emetophobia (just the word "barf"), self-deprecating talk, brief mentions of disintegration (a singular line), Emizel is said to have zoned out but its not too big (mentioning just in case), there is descriptions of violence mostly for metaphors, Emizel also does an empty threat to Soda Spoilers?: nope! the biggest "spoiler" i can think of is that Emizel's a vampire here, which is revealed ep 1 (and also feels obvious for a vampire campaign to have vampires), so this ones a no spoiler fic!

if only you knew what goes on in my mind-hurt/comfort who it involves: Soda, Emizel setting ep wise: vague/unspecified trigger warnings: depriving ones self of sleep Spoilers?: same as the other one, nope! another no spoiler fic!

WONDERLUST:

grand gestures cant fix this, you never did the dishes-hurt no comfort who it involves: Lint, Troy setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, implied to be after ep 1 or so trigger warnings: major character death, corpse descriptions, brief blood mentions Spoilers?: if there are any, i wouldnt know! im not completely caught up with wonderlust at the time of writing this (3/31/25), but i do know that for where ive gotten up to (very very start of ep 3, havent started yet) this is a no spoiler fic! just mind the trigger warnings!

wish we could talk but your stone walls leave me hurt-hurt/comfort who it involves: Lint, Troy setting ep wise: pre ep 1 trigger warnings: negative self talk, arguments, mentions of injury (no descriptions of pain, appearance, or severity) Spoilers?: none! still not caught up as of writing this one (4/8/25) and have not progressed any further along, so should be no spoilers!

something else/i just want a button to push-lighthearted who it involves: Jax, Troy setting ep wise: pre ep 1 trigger warnings: descriptions of making out Spoilers?: not that i can tell! it is mostly just them kissing, and is based around a character with like no information on him, as such theres no spoilers i could incorporate!

thought i saw your shadow under the door-hurt/comfort

who it involves: Jax, Lint setting ep wise: vague/unspecified trigger warnings: hallucinations and unreality (believing something otherworldly is stalking you with violent intensions), brief thoughts of suicide in a sense (allowing something to kill you), knife is held but not used, insomnia happens on lints end but not described, panic attacks, descriptions of crying (specifically mentioning snot and things) Spoilers?: as of editting this (5/5/2025), nothing has changed in my wonderlust catchup, but i am aware jax is not mentioned beyond ep 1 and im unsure what information we actually have of lint now, regardless this is deemed a no spoiler fic! just watch for the warnings!

MYTHBORNE:

hes gone and were whats left alive of him, so let the corpse go-hurt minimal comfort who it involves: Ryan, Aster, Connor (not present but a driving force of this) setting ep wise: post finale/ep 3 trigger warnings: grief (and unhealthy ways to cope with it), loss of a close friend, implied self blame, an argument does end up occurring even if quite brief Spoilers?: nothing for the actual campaign but rather details revealed in the intergalactic what if (set after the events of mythborne) as well as discussed in just rolled with its. id consider this a major spoiler, but the only way to learn of these details is either to access them from patreon or look at the wiki which holds some (that is how i learned of these for the first time to be fair). as such, this is technically no spoilers, but read at your own risk!

nothing to gain something to lose-hurt/comfort who it involves: Ryan, Professor Aeliana setting ep wise: vague/unspecified trigger warnings: grief (and unhealthy ways to cope with it), loss of family, self-deprecation Spoilers?: once again, the details of the spoilers are never discussed in the actual campaign. in fact, these details are only ever talked about on condis discord! once again, this fic is technically no spoilers, but read at your own risk!

APOTHEOSIS:

bite your lips till they bleed / my help is love, i give with my whole being-minimal hurt/comfort who it involves: Peter, Elena setting ep wise: post finale/ep 14 trigger warnings: trying to consume objects that cant be eaten (in this case a rock), blaming ones self for incontrollable behaviors Spoilers?: 2 pretty big ones which while arent important to the fic, are kind of needed to understand part of whats happening! please dont read until finishing apotheosis!

JUDGEMENT:

can i come to you (when i need to be saved)-hurt/comfort who it involves: Jaguar, Buck setting ep wise: vague/unspecified, implied post ep 4 trigger warnings: hallucinations, self-induced insomnia, demons and other worldly monsters, panic attacks, injuries obtained and attempted, swords and violence, it is set at night so it is dark Spoilers?: theres mentions of a character name only revealed around ep 11, as well as a character only revealed to be there in ep 3, so this one i consider a mild to medium spoilers! just keep the triggers in mind!

MULTI-CAMPAIGN:

The Falling Rat(girl)-minimal hurt/comfort campaigns: Wonderlust, Mythborne who it involves: Aster (Mythborne), Runt (Wonderlust) setting ep wise: post mythborne finale (ep 3) and intergalactic gameshow, vague/unspecified for wonderlust (presumed to be post ep 2 minimum) trigger warnings: mentions of someone almost falling to death, vague references to alcohol (Ryan's drinks) with none ever consumed, bad care of wounds and general disability things, brief mentions of scars Spoilers?: mythborne-for the actual campaign, its mostly just a name mentioned briefly. for the aftermath of the campaign, there are some major details that, while arent important to know to understand this, are referenced. if you had plans to watch the intergalactic gameshow what if, i recommend holding back from watching! wonderlust-impossible for any, as when i wrote this, ep 1 hadnt been released! as such, no spoilers on the wonderlust end!