#fr this could be anything your heart desires

[unhingcd]

open to: anyone !!

muse: selita marquez, 28, actress

premise: when a boring event brings our muses together, the possibilities are endless. (can be strangers, friends, co-stars, situationships, etc. go wild ♡)

three mimosas in and its still isn't enough to quell the ache of boredom. normally, selita would praise the staff for managing to keep everything running smoothly, but this was a little too smooth for her liking. she sees promise in one of the reasons the room is filled in the first place; an already drunken woman staring a little too intently at the empty mic stand.

"twenty bucks says the blonde is gonna snatch that mic right up and make it real interesting in here." one could only hope.

[emmyrosee]

bf!sukuna who's a big softy will get mad at you for not eating dinner but cook for you anyway.

"You ain't ate yet?!"

"Tch. Whatever. I guess i'll make you something."

Whenever you fall asleep from working too long/being online too long he'll always tuck you into bed and give you a kiss on the forehead.

He has all your favorite snacks memorized and has them stocked up for you.

When he thinks you're asleep he will tell you stories about him from his past and you will admit sometimes you could NEVER see him doing those things.

"Yuji and I lived at the beach for like, 2 years I think. I used to surf. I was REALLY good at it, maybe I'll show you one day."

HERE ARE SOME IDEAS LOVE YOU EMMY 💖

IM GONNA COMBUST HES MY BOYFRIEND FR-

He gets so mad when you don’t eat, even if it’s only been for a few hours bc you’re not taking care of yourself dummy, and now he’s tasked with the laborious task of feeding you and taking care of you (his words, not mine)

He also can’t stand when you overwork yourself, or fall asleep at your desk because when your back screams at you later, he’s the one that’s going to have to massage it. But he’ll deny the way his heart skips when he scoops you in his arms and carries you to bed, and your cheek nuzzles into the warmth of his torso until you’re laid down on his side of the bed so you can keep his familiar smell in your mind :( all before he goes back to turn off your lights and save your work for you bc what of it got deleted huh? He’s gonna have to hear about that too? Tf?

He, and I cannot stress this enough, knows ALL of your favorite snacks, because for a good chunk of them, they’re his favorite too, and he has to chose between being a good boyfriend and saving the last few bites for you… or, eating them himself and kissing the pout from your lips while you whine and cross your arms petulantly. He’s always sure to be especially affectionate after he eats them, bc he knows he’ll find his shit left in the backyard for him to sleep on the porch swing.

AND HE LOVES TO TALK TO YOU WHILE YOU SLEEP 🥺 bc 9 times out of 10, you are in fact dead asleep, left with your lips smooshed against his chest and arm draped over him, and he can tell you anything. Deep secrets, deep desires, how he used to love yuuji as a kid, the whole nine.

But that 1 out of 10, you blink awake and give him a smile, and he nearly screams in fear of you coming to life, and you giggle softly. “You can surf, but you don’t know how to ride a scooter?”

“SHUT UP-“

[pinkaditty]

WHB Sitri Thirst

teehee guess who's back (at long last!!!!!)

summary: sitri needs to give you devil energy in Satan's absence. you are tired of him calling you Solomon. a/n: you would not BELIEVE how many days this took like what if i keeled over and died fr. ANYWAYS ANYWAYS part 3 of the pervert obey me thing is still in the works as well as a few other writing projects im working on. please be patient with me i swear i will deliver what the crowd wants!!!!!!!!!!!!

also any anons that have sent asks: I SEE THEM! I PROMISE! I WILL RESPOND!

cw: cardiophilia, smut, creampie, begging, sub!sitri, dom!reader, gn!reader (none of the reader's physical attributes are mentioned with a specific description), some fang action, mentions of blood, NOT PROOFREAD, and i think that's all! let me know if i missed anything in the comments, please!

Word count: ~3k

ONCE AGAIN AS USUAL MINORS DNI! I DO NOT WANT YOU INTERACTING WITH MY CONTENT THANKS!

By the time you'd returned to your lodging, Sitri was riddled with want and desire. Your face betrayed nothing, but you knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating a million times per minute as you attempted to unlock the door. The temptation to slow your pace to tease him was hard to resist, but you knew it would be useless when your heart gave away your every thought. Sitri is not a demon of many words, but you can hear his silent urging in his heavy breathing and twitching fingers against the leather of his harness. 

Thump, thump, thump.

You can feel your heart beating in your neck as you carefully turn the knob to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside, holding it open for Sitri to follow. He wastes no time in stepping through the threshold, the click of his heels stopping short before he turns to watch you as you close the door. You take your time doing it, the thumping of your heart harmonizing with the creak of the door. Sitri only watches, but you can feel his gaze boring into the back of your neck as you prolong the creaking of the door until it finally reaches the end. You shut the door in tune with your heartbeat. Thump.

The newfound silence of the room is almost deafening. You only realize how dark it is when you notice nothing but moonlight pouring across your skin. It is cool and glowing, illuminating the room in white light. You turn to look at Sitri, and the moment your eyes meet his, he approaches you. His light blue hair flows as he moves, shining white in the light. His skin is ever so pale, only dotted by a blue pentagram on his neck and the soft pink of his lips, pointed downwards in a soft pout. His eyes shine with what you can only assume is lust. He reaches for you, sharp blue nails curling into your clothing and holding you in place before he swiftly buries his face in your chest, listening intently to your heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump.

He presses his ear to your chest and sighs comfortably, gripping your body like a lifeline.

Thump, thump, thump.

"Solomon…" He whispers quietly into your chest, relaxing against you. "How I missed this sound." His lips brush lightly against your chest as he speaks, making you shiver. 

You part your lips to correct him, remind him that you're not Solomon, but you don't bother after observing how peaceful he seemed, pressed against your chest. Despite him being so close, you could tell he was still antsy, his fingers tightening and loosening their grip on you, his thighs squeezing together and releasing, his breathing still heavy on your chest… 

Careful to avoid his horn, you gather some of his hair and tug on it twice, gently pulling him away. He hesitantly, and rather reluctantly, moves away from your chest, his lips still in a soft pout. He looks at you questioningly, and you simply shake your head. "Come on, let's get comfortable at least." You tug him along to your bed, sitting on it, and motioning for him to sit next to you. Instead of doing that, however, he situates himself on your lap, facing you. He curls his arms around your waist and once again presses his ear to your chest, as though desperate to hear your heart again. He pulled you closer with his arms and pressed into you further with his ear, so much so that you ended up on your back with him pressed against you at every inch, listening to your heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump.

You hear him whispering Solomon's name multiple times, like a prayer, savoring the way it sounded on his tongue. You were not Solomon. But you could tolerate it… for now.

He just couldn't seem to get enough. He continued to press his ear into your chest, as though he needed to hear every single contraction, like he needed to hear the blood as it rushed to and from your heart. He started breathing heavier, his face turning red as he did. He began to press his body against yours a little rougher, breathy whines coming from his lips as he did. 

"Solomon, Solomon, Solomon…"

He begins to nuzzle his face into your chest, needing to feel more, more, and more. You hear him click his teeth in annoyance at your shirt, and he rather brazenly tears it away, as well as anything underneath, with his sharp nails. He tosses the ripped clothing to the side, ignoring your shocked noise, and presses his lips to your chest, right where your heart would be. He pulls away, his heavy breathing turning to panting, and he continues pressing kisses to your chest. You sigh in pleasure and let him continue, not that stopping him would result in anything fruitful.

The kisses become more and more desperate, and eventually, his lips make room for his tongue and teeth, licking and scraping his fangs against your chest. Occasionally he pauses, panting out of sheer excitement, and presses his ear against your chest again to listen to your rapid heartbeat. Each time he does, you feel him shift his hips and squeeze his thighs together, a shudder running down his spine. His hands grip anything within reach - your waist, your chest, your shoulders, your hair, the sheets - his hands rotate indiscriminately like he can’t decide what should ground him. You reach around him and tug on his hair, taming him. He hums into your chest and pulls back, lips swollen slightly from working at your chest, and eyes teary from stimulation. His face is bright red, barely visible in the pale moonlight. His chest heaves from his panting. You behold this sight for a while, gazing at him.

“I’ll need more than this to receive your devil energy, Sitri.” You gently remind him of the purpose of this endeavor, and his blush deepens. You reach out to cradle his cheek in your palm, and he leans into it, pressing his fingers against your wrist to feel your pulse. 

“I apologize, Solomon. I… I’ll make you feel good.” The words drip from his lips like saliva, thick and heavy with meaning, hunger laced in every syllable. He licks from your wrist to your palm, as though he could taste your pulse, before releasing your wrist and shifting his focus to your lower body. He grabs the hem of your clothing and gently tugs it away, removing your intimates as well. He seems to savor the way more of your skin is revealed, more skin through which blood flows, all for him to hear through a pulse. 

He moves further away to allow him access to you, kneeling just off of the bed and facing your core directly. He leans his head against your right thigh, pressing his ear to it to listen for a pulse, holding your left thigh away from his horn. You can tell immediately when he finds your pulse, as his grip on you tightens quickly, and he sighs in satisfaction. He starts almost immediately, licking a long stroke from the bottom to the top. You stiffen, trembling. You carefully prop yourself up on your elbows as he continues, sighing in pleasure. He maneuvers his tongue in long, careful strokes, exploring you as he pressed your thigh closer to his ear. All he needed was your heartbeat to know how well he was doing.

Thump, thump, thump.

You roll your hips against Sitri, reaching down for him and gripping his hair, encouraging him. He whimpers when you pull his hair, and you feel him shudder against your thigh. He peers up at you as he continues, his long tongue strokes turning into shorter, more focused ones at more sensitive points. He swirls his tongue in small circular strokes and the steady pattern of stimulation makes you see stars. You tugged harder on his hair, pulling him in closer to you, and he follows, malleable to your touch. It wasn’t much longer until you reached your peak, gripping his hair like a vice and trembling, pleased moans falling from your lips. He grips your thighs harder as you ride out the last of it, thumbs pressing painfully hard into the skin of them, feeling the blood pulse through your veins under his fingers. When you release his hair, he finally pulls away, his lips dripping with the remnants of your release. His hair is mussed, his skin is flushed red, his pupils are blown wide, and his lips are swollen and pink. He is beautiful.

His thumbs are still pressed painfully hard into your thighs and his ear is still pressed against your skin. He’s the picture of ecstasy, enjoying each and every thump of your heart, savoring the sound as though it’s the last he’ll hear of it. 

“Solomon…” He pants, licking his lips to clear them of your release. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he shivers again, and you watch as he bites his lip from the sheer thrill of listening to your heartbeat. “Thank you… Thank you for letting me indulge…” He pants between his words, rubbing his cheek against your thigh, still listening to your heartbeat. 

You decide you have had enough.

You sit up a bit more, adjusting your posture, and he watches you with adoring, lustful eyes. You roughly grab the front of his shirt, slightly damp with saliva, and pull him towards you. He obediently follows, watching with wide eyes as you lead him over you, pressing his knees into the bed. You take this opportunity to hook your legs behind his knees and flip him over on his back, pressed into the bed as you hover over him.

“I am not Solomon.” You stare down at him, adoring his shocked expression and red cheeks. You reach low for his pants, pressing a palm into his strained erection, gently pulling at his pants button before it pops open, revealing his zipper.

He squirms from your movements, excitement lighting up every nerve of his body. He looks away from you nervously, mumbling an apology. His words are breathless and desperate. “I apologize, Descendant of-”

“No.” You interrupt him quickly, reaching for his jaw and holding it in place. He stops talking purely out of shock, his lips snapping shut. He watches you with wide eyes, breathing heavily. “I do not care about being his descendant. I only want you to say my name. Say my name. It is me you are in bed with, not Solomon.”

He exhales, whimpering slightly. “Yes, yes… MC. MC.” He pants out your name, pupils blown wide with lust once again. “Please… please let me indulge myself, MC.” He begins to beg, squirming more. You knew perfectly well he could hear your heartbeat from where he was, but perhaps it was not enough. Ignoring his pleas, you instead reach down for his zipper, this time pulling it down agonizingly slowly. You watch as he twitches beneath you, his eyes rolling again in ecstasy, waiting for his dick to be free. He starts panting impatiently as you finally unzip them all the way. He whines, his fingers curling into the sheets. “Please… please please please, let me indulge myself. Please, MC.” He begs more, blinking away pitiful tears as you hook your fingers over the band of his boxers, pulling them down. He whimpers more, and you finally indulge him, moving your other hand closer to his head, turning so that your wrist was right against his ear. He sighs happily, and presses his ear to your wrist, sighing again when you finally free his length. He gently rolls his hips upwards, not high enough to touch you, but enough to send a message. He pleads with his eyes, wide and wanting for you. He awaits your movement, biting his lip and curling a hand around your wrist to feel for your pulse again.

Thump, thump, thump.

You simply smile at him as he pleads, and position yourself above him, at last. He visibly gulps, his eyes flickering from your core to your face. Various pleas and whines and broken phrases fall from his lips as you gently position his erection to align with you, and you begin to slowly lower yourself to where his tip meets your entrance. He starts to squirm, the pleas getting more and more insistent. You make direct eye contact with him and hold his gaze and you lower yourself onto him entirely, taking his length in full. He moans pitifully, never breaking eye contact. You bite your lip, gripping his side with one hand to steel yourself. You breathe deeply to calm yourself, still holding Sitri’s gaze. 

“Are you ready for me to start moving?” You ask, smiling and biting your lip.

He nods vigorously, too impatient to wait any longer. “Yes, yes!”

You waste no time in going slow. The want that burns within the two of you is far too great for that. Using your knees as leverage, you begin to move, lifting yourself off of him and immediately lowering back down to take him in. The sound of skin slapping on skin and the bed creaking begin to fill the room. Sitri rolls his eyes back and moves his hips to thrust upwards into you, though he can barely keep it up as the pleasure gets to his head. He keeps whimpering and moaning, writhing in pleasure and pressing his fingers to your wrists, savoring the feeling of your pulse. His light blue hair is spread out below him, his bangs sticking to his forehead. His eyes are wide and unfocused, switching between rolling back, staring at yours, or looking at your chest, listening to your thumping heart. His lips are parted and red, breathing heavily. 

You can feel him filling you up to the brim, his tip barely kissing a sweet spot deep within you as you continued riding him. You were panting, using up all your energy but unable to stop, purely from how good it felt. You suppressed your moans by biting your lip, but they would escape, betraying how quickly you were falling apart form the pleasure. Every time he managed to thrust upwards, he’d hit the sweet spot directly, and you would curl your back, moaning loudly. The pleasure began to build up within you, and you knew the same was true of him. 

You paused your quick movements to instead grind yourself on him, savoring the feeling of him inside and giving your legs a break. Sitri whines and curls his face towards your wrist, gently dragging his tongue across the spot where your pulse was strongest. He presses his lips to your pulse as you continue to grind, muffling his whines and savoring the feeling of your pulse on his lips. 

When you finally recover, you lift yourself up again, slowly dragging your walls across the entirety of his length. He pulls away from your wrist and moans, tightening his grip on your wrists and looking up at you pitifully. You lower yourself again, speeding up this time, and he sighs with pleasure, relishing the feeling of you riding him. The break was not enough, however, and you can still feel the pleasure building up. You speed up your movements, not bothering to hide your moans any longer. He simply writhes underneath you, his eyes rolling and his tongue lolling out of his mouth, tightening and releasing his grip on your wrists. He couldn’t ground himself anymore. 

You reach for his horn at last and grab it roughly, pulling his head towards your chest. He yelps in surprise, but that very quickly melts into a loud moan, muffled into your chest. He turns his head to press his ear to your chest, and wraps his arms around your back, listening for your heartbeat once more. 

Thump, thump, thump. 

You stroke his horn as you continue to ride him, and he’s practically yelling at this point, his moans so loud you were sure they could be heard down the hall. Your riding pattern becomes erratic as you reach your peak, and you can feel he is, too, as he desperately attempts to thrust upwards and scrapes his nails into your back, moans barely muffled by your chest. 

“MC… MC!” He calls your name and babbles pleas and broken words incoherently before you feel him thrust roughly upwards and still against you. His nails dig into your back and his ear presses harder against your chest than before. You feel him release inside you, warm and sedating. A similar liquid melts across your fingers from his horn, and it drips onto the bed. You are in a similar state, having reached your peak as well. You stiffen as you feel his release within you, panting and moaning, clenching your thighs together as tight as you could. 

He shivers against you before he collapses, releasing his grip on you and falling back onto the bed. His eyes are rolled far back into his skull, his lips parted wide and panting, and his cheeks are flushed a beautiful red. You relax and lean over him, not wanting to lift yourself off of him just yet. He whimpers softly at the feeling of still being inside you, twitching slightly. You press a gentle kiss to his lips, which he excitedly reciprocates, reaching weakly to cradle your chin in his hands. As the kiss deepens and becomes sloppy, your tongues searching each other’s mouths, he lazily wraps his arms around your neck, gently pulling you closer. You relax your body against him entirely, pressing your chest to his. Your heartbeats sync, slowing as you both come down from your highs. 

You break the kiss, licking your lips, and you look down at him. He looks up at you with hooded, satisfied eyes. His lips are parted, and his panting is slowly slowing down. 

“What’s my name?” You ask him, leaning towards him and pressing your forehead to his.

“MC.” He answers, smiling as he does. He curls his arms around you tighter, pulling you closer again and pressing your noses together.

Thump, thump, thump.

“You are not Solomon after all.”

------------------------------------------

a/n: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE SITRIIIIIIIIIII!! i admit i don't think this was my best writing ever but i hope it's good, genuinely, because i spent lots of time on it. reminder that i really appreciate likes, reblogs, comments, and asks!! please let me know what you all think!!

this was self-indulgent but also a gift for @jessamine-rose !!!!

[oceantornadoo]

Please I just want to say I LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK HUHBBDEUBYUVTYVTUOVY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you could come up with anything more on the Simon Riley Cut-bulk-the-bird-said-she-liked-me-big-thing I will be your servant forever.

tw: body talk (i headcanon simon as someone who shops in the big & tall section so i think his clothes would fit the body type of every reader. if you shop in that same section, imagine him being MORE bigger and taller than you. mans is 6'4 fr)

--

(a few months later)

simon almost ripped the shirt off his body in frustration. another piece of clothing he had outgrown. he added it to the pile of clothes that he couldn't fit anymore. sleeves too tight, stomach pushing out the fabric. sure he was still in shape, could pass the military physical easily, but he was no longer the lean 22-year-old he once was, muscles now hidden under layers of fat. and he hated it.

there was a knock at the door. still a little pissed off, he opened it with more force than necessary, grunting out "what." before even looking down at who knocked. just his luck, it was you, the one person he tried to be nice to.

"what's got you so grumpy?" you smiled up at him, all sugar and spice. you loved simon's growls, the social anxiety and introvertedness he hid under irritation. it just made it more valuable whenever he laughed at one of your god-awful puns or let you lay on his shoulder. you were never second-guessing if he liked you, mostly because he hated everyone else.

"sorry, didn't see it was you. was jus' doing some spring cleaning." you laughed, a tinkling sound that transitioned into a snort. he loved your insane laughter, a real sound of joy. you peered around his large torso and spotted the pile of clothes on his bed. "doing a big donation, simon?" it was always a punch to the gut to hear his name come out of your mouth, laced with sarcasm and cheek. ever since he told you you could say it in private with him a month ago, you never stopped using it. "somethin' like that. clothes piss me off." you huffed, pushing past him easily as he let you into his room. he closed the door behind you, trying to calm his heart rate as he saw you, here, in his space. like you were his too.

"what did the poor fabric do to you?" you sorted through the clothes, seeing nothing wrong with most. they were all practical clothes, but none had noticeable holes or wear. he mumbled something, too low for you to catch it. "say that again?" he scratched his head and looked away, almost meek. "said they don't fit." ah, there was the problem. "that's okay. just means your muscles are too big." you tried to give a compliment, anything to get rid of the storms in his eyes. "nah. 've gotten fat." you put the shirt you were holding down with force, stomping over to where he had now taken a seat at his spare chair. you stepped between his legs, which opened easily for you. you gripped his chin and turned it towards you, forcing eye contact. "so what? just means you've been eating well, simon. nothing wrong with that."

he looked down, almost reminding you of a kicked puppy. "you don't care?" you weren't dating, yet, but you two had some sort of a romantic understanding. some acknowledgement of there being more, an exclusive connection between you two. "no. i like my men big. like when you can throw me around." he barked out a laugh, surprised at your admission. you smiled back, satisfied. getting a laugh out of him was 80% of the battle. "and these clothes are still good for something." his eyes were on you again, questioning.

you walked back to the bed, full of confidence now. turning to face him, you slowly grabbed the hem of your shirt, untucking it from your tactical pants. he wasn't wearing his mask, so you could see his mouth physically drop at the action. ever so slowly, you raised your arms, bringing your shirt with you. you tossed the shirt aside, standing in front of him with only your bra and pants on. his eyes were dark with desire and he made a move to stand up, but you commanded him with a sharp "sit." like a loyal guard dog, he lowered himself back into his chair, complete captivated.

turning back to the bed, you grabbed one of his outgrown sweatshirts and put it on. it smelled like him, that masculine scent tinged with the cologne he sometimes wore. "see?" you gestured to the sweatshirt, too big on you. "you just gave me a bunch of free clothes." he grunted, still fixated on the sweatshirt. his lack of response made you nervous. "what?" you asked. "give us a spin." you spun slowly, trying not to smile too much. god, the things this man does to you.

"'like seeing my last name on you."

now whose jaw was dropping?

[itsbeeble]

Take My Soul, Take My Heart

SUMMARY: Seonghwa is a monster, this he knows. He is a monster, but he just can't help the obsession he has with love. You have taken his soul, staked your claim on his heart, and now he wants all of you

GENRE: smut, angst

PAIRING: pirate!Park Seonghwa x afab!reader

WC: 6,571

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

FIC TAGLIST: @sanaxo-o

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: jesus christ yall im wishing you luck with this fic fr, lots of plot, violence (like a lot), many mentions of blood, weapons (knives, swords, guns), threats, swearing, alcohol, seonghwa is lowkey obsessed with love, Seonghwa and reader are both a bit psychotic, they kill a man (actually many men), bad depictions of pirates arrrrghhhhh, manipulation, murder, mentions of brothels, actually there are some scenes in a brothel so yeah, p in v sex, marking, oral (f and m receiving), poorly done dirty talk i fear, unprotected sex (please wrap it irl), this is actually kind of vile, mayhaps future hongjoong x reader but who knows, not edited so pls lmk if i forgot anything or if anything looks dumb as hell

A/N: HEYYYYYYY how y'all doinggggggg. thank you to @deobienthusiast for beta reading this IT TOOK ME SO LONG BUT RAAAHHHHHHH SHE HELPED MEEEEE. I've been wanting to do a pirate fic for so long but i never got around to it BUT HERE WE AREEEE PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT PLSPLSPLS

Seonghwa learned a long time ago that love was nearly impossible with his life style. 

No matter his charms, no matter his will, no matter how he fucked, no one would stay. Not once they found out who he was, what he’s done. The crimes he’s committed are enough to sway those that he swore he would protect as he worshipped them under the light of the moon, above the swaying waves. Love, however, is nothing to him compared to the power he feels when on the ocean.

It was a choice hat he made a long time ago. A promise, really, that he made to Hongjoong the moment he’d stepped onto the wooden planks of the Blue Bird. He gave up the idea of love when he first drew a blade, when he felt the first drops of blood hit his skin and stain his clothing. The blood of men and women who threatened his crew, who threatened his lovers, who threatened him. He’d grown accustomed to the metallic stench, to the warmth of the red liquid against his skin. He practically bathed in it, relished in the feeling of it. 

Seonghwa doesn’t understand it, this feeling in his chest. This burning to be worshipped and loved. He cannot comprehend the longing, the desire in his stomach and in his heart. The longing that never leaves, lingering at the corner of his mind and at the tip of his tongue. Love is nothing compared to the power he feels with the weight of a blade in his hand, the metal of a gun at his hip. Love is a hindrance, love is nothing compared to the feeling of his weapon cutting through the air, through the flesh and bone of those who wrong him.

Seonghwa is soaked in blood still as he steps off the ship, his boots leaving wet footprints against the dock. Had the color of his clothing not been violently stained in the color, it could have been mistaken for the salty water that pushes and pulls against the rocky cliffs around him. A shoulder brushes against his, a hand pressing back against his chest to stop him in his tracks as Hongjoond looks up at him. That stern look is in his eye, one that the first mate had grown used to over the years.

“You know what we’re here for,” the captain’s voice is raspy. “Do us all a favor and don’t get distracted by any…side quests, if you will.”

Seonghwa’s tongue runs over his teeth, his shoulders rolling back and one of his hands coming to rest on the hilt of his sword. 

“When do I ever get distracted?” Hongjoong’s eyes are weary with travel, flicking from Seonghwa’s head down to his toes.

“Not what I meant, Hwa.”

“He means,” Wooyoung comes from behind the two, squeezing between them and throwing his arms around their shoulders. “Don’t fuck anyone. You know it never ends well for either party.” 

Seonghwa’s lip curls at the younger crew member’s words but he manages to hold his tongue. 

“Leave the man alone, Wooyoung.” San chides, pulling the cook back by the collar. “It’s not his fault he becomes blind when it comes to women.” Both men laugh, and Hongjoong folds his hands behind his back. 

“And this is funny to you two because…?” the captain’s eyebrow arches, his eyes glittering with a warning. 

“Well, I mean,” San stands a bit straighter. “Shouldn’t he know by now that ‘love’ doesn’t work with our lifestyle? Women find us, they fuck, take a bit of gold, and run off or try to kill us before the sun rises. Sometimes both at the same time. Love isn’t something that works with us. We’re blind to it, or it is blind to us.” 

Seonghwa pushes Wooyoung off his shoulder, his lips drawn into a thin line. Suddenly the bloody clothing that clings to his body burn like fire, uncomfortable and scratchy. 

“I have things to do,” he states with an eerie calmness. “I’ll be back by sundown.”

You take notice of the man the moment he steps into the tavern. Maybe it was his delicate features. Maybe it was the way the tavern went quiet with something similar to awe or fear or both. 

Or maybe it was the blood staining his clothing and dripping onto your freshly cleaned fucking floor.

You can barely hold your tongue as he approaches your counter, your jaw ticking and your eyes narrowed. His own, like that of a fox, are darting from person to person as if measuring how long it would take to strike them down. In a bar full of pirates, he is one of few that came alone. 

When his eyes land on you, he straightens his spine. I am powerful, I am a god, fear me. His body language is screaming the words, but you’re screaming right back.

One wrong fucking move and I’ll have your ass on the ground with a bullet between those pretty eyes before you can blink.

His lips twitch up into a smirk, yours deepen into a scowl.

“You got blood on my floor.” 

“I apologize.” 

“You don’t sound genuine.” 

He leans against the counter, eyes searching yours curiously. A glove-covered hand slides a gold coin toward you, your heart jolts. 

“I am sorry.”

“Apology accepted, gorgeous.” Your painted red lips curl into a delighted smile as you snatch up the coin before curious hands wandered a bit too close. “What can I get for you?”

“Mead, any will do.” His eyes seem to be searching you, sizing you up, and his tongue runs over his teeth. You do as he says, all too aware of his eyes watching you and staring you up and down. You weren’t a fool. You knew of your…features and what drew customers in. Men, women, you couldn’t care less so long as it got you what you wanted. Gold. Silver. Fuck, even copper would do sometimes. There was hardly a level you wouldn’t stoop to if it meant paying back your debt. 

You turn back to him, a mug of honey wine in one hand. He still watches you, curious and unashamedd of how how examines you. You let him, knowing deep down that you were doing precisely the same in order to ignore the man under your counter. 

“Anything else, gorgeous?” You lean forward, tongue dancing across your red lips. He watches the motion and smiles coyly. 

“Information.”

You kiss your teeth, arms folding on the counter as you watch him glance around the bar. “On?”

“A man going by the name of Socha.” 

Your body stills, fingers curling into tight fists. You feel eyes burning into your skull, and the gun barrel pressing into your hip grows tighter.

“I know of no one by that name.” 

The man searches your gaze, and you can’t find yourself wanting to look away. You want so desperately to scream out. He’s here, you want to tell him, there is a gun against my hip and a room filled with his crew all around you. Help me!

“Are you sure?” The man leans closer to you, tilting his head and bringing his lips close to your ear. “There’s a reward in it for you if you tell me where he is.”

“I know of no one by that name.” You repeat. “I would greatly appreciate it if you left my bar now, sir.”

He pulls back from you, pursing his lips briefly before returning to the malicious smirk. “If you change your mind, find Seonghwa on the Blue Bird.”

You don’t move a muscle until the door he entered through is shut. The tavern returns to its original volume, and the gun against your hip lowers. Your fists unfurl, and the gold coin hits the ground. 

Socha rises from beneath your counter, lips spread in a vile grin and a stench that makes you want to gag. 

“Maybe you’ll be useful after all, barkeep.” He leans in close to you, raising his gun to brush stray hair out of your face. Your throat tightens and your eyes squeeze shut, every muscle in your body screaming to run. “Loyalty isn’t something we take lightly on the Skylark.”

“I understand,” you choke out, praying to anyone who might listen that the gun leaves your temple. “Thank you for the…opportunity to prove my worth.”

Seonghwa doesn’t appreciate liars.

He also doesn’t appreciate the fact that the captain of the Skylark had decided to take an innocent woman hostage at his favorite bar in his favorite city. 

It was obvious what had been happening. Sure, it was typical for a port city to be filled to the brim with pirates, especially at the local taverns. What wasn’t typical was for the tavern to be filled to the brim with pirates wearing clothing the color of drying blood, a symbol that the Skylark crew had taken in the early days when Socha spilled blood across the ocean for miles and miles, his clothing stained so dark it looked black. 

He wasn’t stupid. He saw the fear sparking in your eyes the moment he said Socha’s name. Now it was time for him to wait for you to come to him. 

“You seem so sure that this barkeep will show her face.” Yeosang sits on the steps leading to the upper deck, twirling a curved blade between his fingers.

“She was terrified. Socha was there. Whether she wants to or not, she’ll be on this ship tonight with information we need.” 

Seonghwa leans against the railing, steadying himself against the waves that crash against the side of the ship. He’d changed out of the bloodstained clothing hours ago, washed the dried liquid off of his skin and let it run into the ocean. The sun is beginning to set, casting a golden light against his face that he soaks in with delight. The warmth of these last rays clings to him, and it’s when the sun has finally set below the horizon that he accepts that you will not be coming to the ship this night. 

“Maybe you need to do a bit more convincing than just giving a woman gold,” Yunho stomps up the stairs from the lower deck, a crate in his hands and a grin on his lips. “Maybe that’ll get you something in a brothel, but that was a woman working in a tavern. She knows better.”

“Shut up, Yunho.” Seonghwa spits out, whirling on his feet and stalking toward the gangway with burning ears and a boiling hot temper. 

He was pissed. He had truly believed that you’d show up. Was Socha still holding you in that tavern? Were you afraid of him? Were you afraid of what might happen if the captain found out? Were you loyal to the Skylark?

Seonghwa huffs, his hand finding the hilt of his sword again as he makes his way into the port city. It’s busier now that the sun is down, the streets crowded and filled with vendors of all sorts. Weaponsmiths, farmers, beggars, thieves. The streets became alive with everyone under the stars. It made it more difficult to maneuver quickly and quietly, but Seonghwa knew that he would only draw attention to himself if he moved any faster than he was. 

A delicate hand grabs his elbow and faster than the brothel worker could blink, there’s a dagger against her throat and her back is against the wall. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted with shock. Seonghwa drops the blade just as fast as he’d drawn it, his eyes lit with annoyance. 

“Care for a step inside?” Her tone, despite her previous shock, was sultry and enough to draw almost any many in. 

“I am not interested in what you have to offer.” Seonghwa begins to pull away, but her grip tightens. Her eyes are desperate now, and Seonghwa allows himself to pause.

“I believe you will be very interested to know that someone has paid good money to speak to you,” she speaks quickly, tugging at his arm to guide him to the door. “Please. Step inside. They will guide you to where you need to be.”

Against all that tells him to turn the other way and run, Seunghwa listens to the woman. She steps to the side, that seductive look plastered back onto her face as she guides him and other patrons into the building. 

The stench of sex is heavy in the air. It’s thick and nearly overwhelming his senses. Or, perhaps, it is the burning incense that overwhelms him. The smoke provides a haze, distracting him from the naked bodies all around him. Scattered across th4e ground, in chairs, on tables, in rooms that are only covered by a loose, sheer cloth overe the doorway. He avoids looking at anyone he can, but then his eyes find you. 

You’re tucked away in the corner farthest from him, your eyes watching his every move. His head tilts, tracing your body with his eyes. Nearly bare like the women around you, covered only by a shear cloth seemingly lined with gold. You tilt your head up, practically beckoning him toward you.

He follows you, putting up no fight against the primal urges inside of him that tell him to pin you against the wall and take you right there. 

His steps, careful and calculated, weave through the bodies on the floor, following you into the darkest corners of the brothel. You don’t let him get close, no matter how he chases you. It’s like a game to you, and you’re winning. Seonghwa lets it happen. 

“I’m sure you understand why I brought you here,” you murmur, your voice hardly louder than the sexual noises around you. A private room in the very back of the building and secured by a wooden door. “I had to speak to you where we could be…private, able to speak freely.” 

Seonghwa, for a long moment, doesn’t say a word. He watches the way your hips sway with every step, watches how you bend forward to light each candle. 

“You said you wanted information,” you speak again, coming to stand directly in front of him. Your breasts brush against his ribcage, your hands reaching for his. “I’m prepared to give you it.”

“In exchange for a quick fuck?” He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head at you. You only smirk.

“I had to bring you somewhere logical. Pirates love brothels almost as much as they love my bar. Besides, if anyone comes stomping in here, at least they’ll get a good show, won’t they?” 

You push Seonghwa towards the large fur-covered mattress with more force than he’d expected. He stumbles back, letting himself fall back until his spine meets fur. You’re quick to crawl over him, sheer fabric coming loose and allowing your breasts to come free. 

“Why are you looking for Socha?” You ask him, hips rolling down against his. Seonghwa stifles a groan, relishing in the feeling of your grinding hips and the way your nails digging into his chest. His hands grip the flesh of your thighs, squeezing tight enough to leave marks. 

“Why was he in your bar?” the pirate counters, eyes drooping in a lust filled haze. You click your tongue leaning down and nipping at the lobe of his ear. 

“I asked a question first.” Your lips trail kisses down his neck, a trail of red lipstick following you, and Seonghwa feels air brush against his chest as you undo the buttons of his shirt. “Answer me, gorgeous.”

“He has something of mine,” he says, annoyingly calm given the circumstances you have him in. “I want it back.”

You roll your hips down with more force, leaning back to admire his sculpted body. You shouldn’t be shocked. He’s a pirate after all. One with a gorgeous face, gorgeous body, and you’d be willing to bet his cock is equally as perfect. Your mouth waters at the thought, your body sliding back so you have easy access to his cock. 

“What does he have?”

Seonghwa sits up, leaning back on his hands as you work at his pants. A lazy smirk is plastered on his face, one that has your stomach churning and pussy dripping with need. 

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts. “My turn to ask a question.”

His hips lift as you start pulling his pants down, exposing his half-hard cock to your eyes in the dim candlelight. 

“Ask away, gorgeous.” Your hands inch forward, reaching for his cock in an act of near desperation. 

“Why was Socha and his crew in your bar?” Seonghwa watches as you wrap a hand around him, a breath of air hissing out of him as you stroke him gently up and down. Your eyes lock with his as you lean down to spit on his cock, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from losing his composure. 

You shrug at his question, letting a bit more spit drip from your mouth as you pump his now fully erect cock. “They wanted drinks, I suppose.”

“Bullshit and you know it.” Seonghwa grunts, letting his head roll back. You smirk, letting your free hand slip down to cup his balls. 

“Tell you what,” you dip your head down and place a kiss to his tip. “Let me please you, and if you aren’t satisfied I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“And if I’m satisfied?” He asks, reaching a hand to tangle his fingers in your hair.

“You take me with you out of this godforsaken city.” 

Seonghwa’s breath, for the first time, stills. He searches your eyes for something, anything to tell him what might be happening. 

“You…you want to come with…with me?” 

He’s confused. Why on Earth would someone like you want to come with him? “You have a life here. People who care about you, guaranteed safety. Why would you—”

“I have nothing here.” You spit out, leaning up to look him in the eyes. “I have misery and shame and misfortune. I do not care that I will not be safe with you.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Then we will make the choice later.” You kiss him gently, leaving him aching for more of you. “Let me satisfy your needs, Seonghwa.” Your hand pushes at his chest, urging him to lay back. 

“I don’t even know your name,” Seonghwa’s head hits a pillow, letting his gaze settle on the ceiling above him. 

“Do you need to?” He can feel your lips trailing down his chest, nipping at his skin and leaving marks he knows will not go away. 

“It would be nice to know who I’m speaking to.” Who I’m fucking.

“I suppose,” your lips touch his hip, right beside a trail of hair, and he can feel the way they curl into a grin. “You can call me Y/N.” 

Seonghwa can’t get a response out before your lips are wrapping around his cock. His fingers curl into the furs beneath him, fighting the urge to buck his hips into your mouth and force you to take as deep as you can. You could probably handle it, but he knows he needs to exercise restraint for himself if anything. 

Your nails dig into his thighs, leaving little red crescents in his golden skin as you take him. He can feel your throat constricting around his cock, trying desperately not to gag as his tip hits the back of your throat. Your tongue runs along the underside of his shaft as you pull yourself off of him, kitten licking the tip before taking him all the way back down again. Your nose presses against his pelvis, and Seonghwa can feel tears hitting his skin. Or, perhaps, it’s spit dripping out of the corners of your mouth as you hollow your cheeks and swallow around him. 

Finally a pitiful groan is pulled from his lips. 

Deep and gravelly as if he’d been holding it in for far longer than his body wanted him to. Your eyes peer up at him, your tongue laving at his balls and your hand pumping up and down while your mouth is occupied. Seonghwa’s hips jolt, little drops of precum leaking from his tip in an endless stream. His back arches as your mouth returns to his aching cock, your pace fast and harsh as you swallow around him and suck as you pull back up, urging him to cum faster. 

His back arches off the bed, his jaw drop and hollow moans pouring from his lips. One of his hands finds your hair, holding you in place as he begins to piston his hips up. Your eyes widen, your hands flailing briefly to find purchase on something, anything to keep you somewhat upright. You’re gagging now, unable to help it as Seonghwa’s cock punches the back of your throat. 

You like it, though. You like how rough he is with you, the way he lets himself lose control and become blinded by his own pleasure. His hands yank at the strands of your hair, and a moan escapes you. The vibrations run down his cock, and suddenly Seonghwa’s hips stutter and thick, white hot liquid is spurting down your throat. You try pulling off of him, the liquid coming out too quickly for you to keep up with, but Seonghwa forces you back down, forces you to take all of it down his throat.

“That’s it,” he coos, breathless and mocking. “Take it all. Take everything I’m giving you.” The snide comments pull a whimper out of you, and you allow yourself to relax just enough to swallow all of his cum. 

When he finally releases you and allows you to pull off, there’s droplets of cum running down your chin. Your cheeks are burning, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and you’re pretty sure your hair is a knotted, uncontrollable mess. 

He’s smirking down at you. I am powerful, I am a god, fear me.

You raise yourself up, slotting your lips against his. You are powerful. I am not afraid of you.

“Are you satisfied, then?” You murmur, letting one hand come up to cup the back of his neck, the other slipping down to soothe the ache in your dripping pussy. Seonghwa kisses his teeth.

“You think my cock down your throat is enough to satisfy me, darling?” Your breath hitches at the vile nature of his words. It isn’t as if you hadn’t heard that before, however he says it so…condescendingly. As if you were a fool to assume that he would be done with you just yet. 

“Are you not…satisfied?” 

“I’ll make you a deal, darling,” The tip of a blade rests under your chin and your stomach churns, however it isn’t with fear. No…this is something else entirely. This is…lust? No…it burns too sweet to be lust. “Take me to Socha, kill him yourself, and fuck me in his bed while my captain kills the rest of his crew, and then I’ll be satisfied. Do we have a deal?”

“Will you let me come with you?” Your eyes gleam, and Seonghwa jerks your head up to kiss you. ‘Kiss’ being a very loose term. With his blade against your throat, he shoves his tongue into your mouth, and you push yours against him just as hard. Teeth clash, biting at each othe harshly in a motion that’ll leave you both bruised and bleeding. 

“I’ll let you come with me.” 

You weren’t expecting them to trust you. Hell, you half expected to be shot dead the moment you stepped onto the Blue Bird. Hongjoong stairs you down with curiosity and doubt in his gaze, but he says nothing as the crew argues over whether or not to trust you and your word. Or, rather, Seonghwa’s word. 

“You think we can trust her?” Mingi is eyeing you up and down, his lips curled into a sneer. “She’s a barkeep, she’ll say anything for some gold and a quick fuck.” 

You bare your teeth right back at him. “Is that not what a pirate is? Roaming the seas and sticking their cocks into the first hole they see and grabbing as much gold and ale as they can carry?” 

Mingi is far larger than you are, but you are not afraid. You cannot be afraid if you wish to be on this ship for the rest of your days. You cannot be afraid of the men Seonghwa sails with and commands. 

“And what of Seonghwa?” Jongho, the quiet one in the corner, chimes in. “Do we not trust him? Right hand of our captain, are you doubting that he has our best interest in his mind?”

“I think that he slept with the first person he saw and immediately became blind to reality.” Mingi snaps back. “How long before this one leaves you? How long before you decide you’re sick of her and throw her overboard?”

Your heart drops to your stomach and your head whips to look up at Seonghwa who has gone still beside you.

“What is he talking about, Seonghwa?” Your hand pulls from his, but he grabs it right back.

“He is speaking nonsense,” he snaps, eyes glaring at Mingi. “I know exactly what I am doing. I know who I can and cannot trust. She is loyal to us, not to anyone else.”

“And you got all that from having your cock down her—”

“Enough!” Hongjoong’s voice rises over the others. All it takes is that one word for all to go quiet, their gazes on him as he rises from his seat on the table. “Seonghwa is my right hand, if he says that this woman is to be trusted then she will be trusted by us!”

“But—” Mingi tries to argue but a pair of dagger-like eyes hone in on him. 

“Do you want to be on slop duty?” Mingi’s face goes green and the eyes are trained back on you. “And you— are you so certain that you want to join us?”

“I am certain, Captain,” you tell him, dipping your head into a nod. “I have never wanted anything more.”

“Then it’s settled,” Hongjoong declares. “We kill Socha at sunset tomorrow.”

There’s an odd sense of safety that you feel while you approach the Skylark. You can hear the chatter of the crew from the edge of the gangway, but you know that a crew of your own is watching and waiting for your signal. 

Your signal, of course, being Socha’s body being dumping into the harbor. 

“Hey! Look who it is!” 

A hand clamps down onto your shoulder and you grimace at the first mate’s disgusting smile. 

“Little miss barkeep came to pay us a visit!” The crew erupts into cheers, some calling for a drink and some calling for you to give them a show. Bile rises in your throat at the sounds they make. Suddenly the blade up your sleeve feels a lot lighter in your hand. “How can we help you, little miss?”

“I need to speak with Socha.” Your voice holds steady, thankfully. 

“Socha isn’t expecting you today.” The first mate clicks his tongue. “I’ll take a message.”

“This is urgent,” you argue. “I have information on the Blue Bird’s crew.” 

The first mate barks out a laugh, throwing his head back as he bellows. The crew joins him, and your cheeks begin to heat up. 

“You think we give a fuck about that measly little crew?” The first mate cries.

“What are those dumb fucks going to do to a crew of 80 men?” Someone across the deck cries. “We have ten to their one, they can try but they won’t fucking get past the gangway.”

“Now, now gentlemen.” A deeper, gravelly voice to your right grabs everyone’s attention. Socha leans against a railing closest to his cabin, lip curled at you in what looks like disguswt. “The little miss has information for us! We should hear her out.”

“Socha,” you breathe out andhe clicks his tongue. 

“I don’t believe we have rewarded you yet for your…loyalty, have we?” He’s five steps from you, almost close enough to stab him. His hand reaches for you, and you take it. Two steps, only a bit too far from the edge of the ship. 

“Can we…can we speak a bit more privately?” You look at him through your eyelashes, lips pushed out just a bit. “It’s a little loud out here.”

“Of course, little miss.” Socha’s hand on the small of your back makes you want to light someone on fire. It disgusts you, and the bile begins to rise in your stomach again as he guides you to his quarters. He lets you in first, keeping his eyes on your swaying hips the entire time.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you spin around to face him. 

He’s one step away.

The knife in your sleeves drops into your palm.

You raise your blade to strike him.

A gunshot.

Both of you go silent, your bodies going still. There’s something wet soaking your skirts, you stumble back. Your eyes raise to the man behind Socha.

The captain hits the ground, blood pooling around him. Blood stains your cheeks and your white shirt. 

There’s commotion outside the cabin. 

“I had it handled, Seonghwa.” Your eyes narrow, and your lover barks out a laugh.

“I know, darling. But he would have shot you the moment he saw that blade.” A body hits the door, wood beginning to splinter as Seonghwa takes the two steps he needs to reach you. Blood soaks the bottoms of his boots, but neither of you care. His hands come to cup your cheeks, blood smearing across your skin as he brushes over your cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“You did wonderfully, my love.” He murmurs, and you find yourself beaming. “I think, however, you still have part of your deal to hold up to.”

“His cabin is a bit far,” your lips are brushing his and you lift your head just a bit to try and kiss him but he tuts at you.

“A deal is a deal, my love. I will not be fucking you near a dead body.” His nose curls and he kicks Socha out of the way. 

“Fine. Have it your way, gorgeous.” 

You take his hand in your own, swinging the door of the captain’s quarters open to reveal the end of a blood bath. Hongjoong is watching from the upper deck as the other six members of his crew dump bodies into the harbor. You catch his eye as you move through the masses and down to Socha’s cabin and he gives you a small nod. 

You did well.

I know I did. You keep your head high, a proud smirk on your lips before you disappear with Seonghwa hot on your heels. 

Seonghwa’s lips are hot on your neck, his hands dancing over your body grabbing at everything they can. Airy moans pull from your lips, an addicting sound that has Seonghwa afraid that you may be a siren. He cannot get enough of you, cannot pull away even if he tried. 

In the center of the room, the two of you stand bare and ready for each other. A pile of clothes surrounds you, a bed behind you and a desk covered in papers in front of you. 

“You’re fucking addicting,” Seonghwa growls, grabbing at your hair and yanking your head back to bare your neck for him. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.” 

You can’t respond, hands shaking as they grab at Seonghwa just as harshly as he’d grabbed you. Your nails scratch down his chest, his back. Into his hips to try and force him closer to your body, but he keeps himself just out of your reach. 

“Mingi was right,” Seonghwa grunts as he spins you around, pinning you against the desk and throwing everything that was on it to the side to make way for you. He shoves you back, pinning your shoulders against it. “I became blind to reality the moment I saw you in that fucking tavern. Addicted to you the moment you spoke to me.”

His lips reattach to your skin, making their way down your throat, past the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. His hands grip the flesh your thighs, forcing your thighs apart to make way for him. You’re dripping for him, you can feel the liquid pooling at your center, dripping down your thighs and onto the desk below you. 

“Fuck, I will never go a day without looking at this pretty pussy.” 

Seonghwa’s hand rubs against your folds, spreading them and rubbing your slick around for a moment before pulling back.

Smack!

The sting is almost unbearable, your back arching as you wail and Seonghwa’s hand cracks down on your pussy once more. 

“So pretty for me, love when I get rough, hm?” You can barely hear him. Hell, you don’t think he can hear himself in this lust filled haze. “You’ve taken my soul, taken my heart from its confines. You have to pay for that, you know?” 

You whine when his lips touch your cunt for the first time. Soft at first, kitten licks and little kisses against your clit that quickly become harsh sucks and nips that have your back arching and legs thrashing over his shoulders. It’s easy for him to pin your body down, making heat growing in your stomach as he eats you like a man starved. His long tongue dips into you, digging in as far as it can go before Seonghwa drags it up to swirl around your clit, drawing figure-eights with the tip of it and making your body writhe before he repeats the process. 

A knot begins to form in the pit of your stomach, and you cry and beg for Seonghwa to please please please, faster, more more, god please. Fat tears roll down your cheeks as he focuses his attention on your puffy clit, digging his tongue into it and listening to the way you scream his name. Your back arches one final time before you’re coming undone beneath him, your body quivering and your hole clenching repeatedly. Your hands find purchase in his dark hair, yanking at the strands for some semblance of a grasp on reality. 

You don’t get long to recover before Seonghwa is flipping you over and pinning you down again, face down against the desk. You can practically smell your own cum, and you try to push yourself up just a little bit. 

“You’re not trying to get up, are you?” Seonghwa’s lips are right next to your ear. “You know what to say if you want me stop, darling.” His lips nip at your ear and you whine desperately, finally caving and letting your arms drop. “Good girl.”

His hands rub against the backs of your legs, massaging them gently before spreading them open once more. 

“You ready for me?” His hand traces along your dripping folds, waiting patiently for your response. 

“Please, Seonghwa,” you whine. “Please fuck me!” 

So he does. 

The stretch burns as he pushes in, but he’s quick to soothe you, kissing your shoulders and down your spine so, so gently compared to what you know he’s going to do to you. Your walls clamp down on him like a vice, trying desperately to push him out but pull him in at the same time. 

“So tight,” he groans, biting into your back as he finally sheathes himself inside of you completely, engulfed by the warmth of your walls and somewhat reluctant to pull out again. “Fuck, you feel so good around me, darling.”

“Hwa,” you moan out, hands clawing at the desk as you try to push back against him, trying to get him deeper inside of you. “Please, please move!” 

His hips begin moving before you can finish your statement. He sets a fast, brutal pace, each thrust punching the air out of you and leaving you wailing his name. You scramble to find purchase on the edges of the desk, holding tightly so as to not slide off. Seonghwa grabs at your shoulder with one hand, the other gripping your hip as he slams his hips against yours. His cock reaches places you never believe one could, brushing against a spot inside of you that has your vision going white with pleasure, your hiccuped moans becoming nearly silent screams. The knot inside of you draws tight again, and Seonghwa is practically throwing you over the edge as your body seizes up once more.

“Fuck,” he grunts out. “Cumming again already?”

“I— I can—can’t help it!” You hiccup. “Feel—feels so—so good!”

“Yeah, I bet it does,” Seonghwa grunts, letting his head fall back and his jaw fall open as your fluttering walls force him closer to the edge than he wants to be. “Fuck, don’t wanna cum yet but this pussy feels too good.”

His body folds over yours, one of his hands slipping down to find your clit. Cries of overstimulation pull from your lips, your body shaking as he continues to rail you into the desk. Seonghwa’s hips begin to stutter, and the moment he feels your walls flutter around his for the final time, he’s cumming. He breathing is ragged, quiet whines pulled from his lips as your pussy clenches around his cock. 

You can barely move as he pulls out of you, your body covering in sweat and cum. Seonghwa runs a hand over his face, catching his breath and brushing his hair back. 

“You alright?” He crouches near your face, tracing a finger along your cheekbone while you recover. “Here, let me help you.” 

Seonghwa is quick to lift you up, shushing you when you whine, and carries you over to a surprisingly luscious bed. He sits against the wall, your body curling into his as you both recover. The steady rocking of the waves against the ship seems to calm you, your breathing evening out until you’re fast asleep in his lap. 

He’s almost asleep himself until the door of the captain’s cabin swings open and Hongjoong barges in. 

The captain’s eyes fall to you briefly, and Seonghwa swears he can see his tongue running over his lip before Hongjoong’s eyes are back on the right hand. 

“We gotta get going, soldiers from the upper city are on their way down to find out why there’s bodies in the water.”

Your body stirs, eyes fluttering open quietly and Seonghwa grins. 

His heart and soul belongs to you now. You, the first and only one to not run from the monster he’d become. 

“And so it begins.” 

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[reneglowzs]

Minors do not interact! p in v no protection (wrap it before you tap it) fingering 1709words

The bright lights in the club flashed while the music blasted with a heavy bass. It was a typical night in Ibiza for everyone where the energy never seemed to stop.

Y/n had come to Ibiza to escape for a week leaving her job and stress behind. She wasn't looking for anything specific but it would be a lie to say she wouldn't mind blowing some steam off tonight. 

By this time of the night her friends had dispersed into the crowd while she sat at the bar sipping slowly on her mojito and swaying to the music.

Across the room, Lando leaned against a wall, watching the dance floor. He was in Ibiza on a whim, having decided that he needed a break from his life back in Monaco. His friends had convinced him that this island was the place to be. 

As the night wore on, their eyes met across the room. Y/n felt a jolt, a spark of something she couldn't quite name. Lando, intrigued by the confidence in her gaze, smiled and nodded toward the dance floor. Without a word, she set down her drink and wove her way through the crowd toward him. He started moving to the center of the floor, because the last thing he would do is turn down a dance from a pretty lady.

They met in the center of the floor, the music thumping around them, and without hesitation, they started to dance. The rhythm took over, and soon they were moving together, in sync, as if they'd known each other for years. Y/n’s laughter was infectious, and Lando found himself grinning, caught up in the moment.

It wasn't long before the space between them closed, their bodies pressed together as they danced. The heat of the crowd, the music, and the shared electricity between them created a bubble that seemed to cut them off from the rest of the world. They didn’t speak much—there was no need. The music did all the talking.

As the night deepened, the lights dimmed, and the tempo of the music slowed. Lando leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he asked, "Want to get out of here?"

She looked up at him, her eyes bright with excitement. "Yes," she replied, her voice breathless from the dancing and the anticipation.

The bass still thumped in her chest as they stepped out of the club, stepping into the warm Ibiza air. Laughter and music faded into the distance as they walked  down the street hand in hand, her heels clicking against the pavement. The neon lights from the sign of a nearby hotel glowed softly in the darkness.

Lando pushed through the revolving door, the hum of the lobby a welcome contrast to the chaos they’d left behind.

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing them in a small, intimate space. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that had been simmering all night long. She could feel his presence beside her, close enough that their arms brushed with every slight movement. The numbers above the door ticked upwards, but time seemed to slow.

He turned to her, his eyes dark with a mix of something you couldn’t quite name—desire, maybe, or a kind of quiet determination. Her breath caught in her throat as his hand found her waist, pulling her gently but firmly towards him.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice low and rough. She nodded, unable to find her voice, her heart racing in anticipation. And then he kissed her.

It was everything she imagined it would be, the kind of kiss that stole the breath from her lungs and made her knees go weak. His lips were warm and demanding, she melted into him, her hands finding the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer as the elevator hummed softly around them. 

The ding of the elevator reaching their floor broke the spell. Lando led the way to the room as you both rushed. The door clicked shut behind him.

‘’Ready?’’

She could feel the intensity of his need in every touch, every kiss, as if he was devouring her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as his mouth found hers again, their kisses growing more frantic.

His hands roamed lower, his fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her against him, letting her feel just how much he wanted her. She whimpered into his mouth, her own desire spiraling out of control, and she arched into him, craving more, needing more.

His lips trailed down her neck, teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her moan, her head falling back against the wall. His hands roamed freely, exploring every curve, every inch of her body with an urgency that matched her own. She could feel his boner pushing against her belly.

He couldn't get enough. 

She tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. He obliged, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, before his mouth was on hers again, even hungrier than before. His hands slipped under her dress, finding the bare skin of her thighs, squeezing firmly as he pushed her dress up further, his fingers teasing the edge of her panties.

“God, you’re driving me insane,” he growled against her lips, his voice rough with need. 

“Then do something about it,” she breathed, her voice trembling with anticipation.

His eyes darkened, and in one swift movement, he tore her panties away, the sound of ripping fabric making her pulse race. His fingers found her instantly, sliding between her folds, and she cried out, arching into him as he teased her, his thumb circling her clit with passion. 

‘‘Fuck o-omg’’ was all she could say. She could barely think, her body completely at his mercy as he worked her with skilled fingers, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. She clung to him, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. 

‘T-t-too mu-chhh’’ He didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate, his fingers driving into her faster, harder, his mouth capturing her cries as she came apart in his arms. 

Her climax hit her like a wave, her body trembling uncontrollably as pleasure coursed through her. He swallowed her moans, his hand never stopping its relentless pace until she was a panting, trembling mess against him.

When she finally caught her breath, he pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction and burning desire. “We’re not done,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She smiled, wicked and full of promise. “Not even close.”

They stumbled toward the bed, their hands tearing at the rest of  each other’s clothes, the air between them crackling with raw, unrestrained need. Her dress fell to the floor, a forgotten heap of fabric, as he pushed her onto the bed, his eyes dark with hunger as he followed her down.

His lips were everywhere—her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her breasts. He kissed and nipped at her skin, leaving a trail of fire in his path. She arched into him, her hands desperate as they roamed over the hard muscles of his back, pulling him closer, needing more.

He slipped his hand between her legs, finding her already wet and aching for him. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as he teased her with slow, deliberate strokes, his dick playing her like an instrument he knew intimately well. 

“Please,” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whimper, every nerve ending alive with anticipation.

He grinned against her skin, his breath hot against her ear. “Not yet,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust. “I want to hear you beg.”

She shuddered at his words, her body betraying her as it responded to the dark promise in his voice. He slid his dick against her slit, She cried out, her fingers tangling in his curls as he teased with maddening precision, bringing her closer and closer to the edge but never quite letting her fall.

“Please,” she begged, her voice desperate, her body trembling under his relentless assault.

‘‘Please what?’’

‘‘Please fuck me’’ he smiled at her with a smug grin.“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. Positioning himself between her legs. She could feel him hard and ready against her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him inside her.

With one swift thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, and she moaned, the sensation overwhelming. He didn’t hold back—he set a punishing pace, each thrust deep and powerful, driving her higher and higher. She met him with equal intensity, their bodies moving together in a frantic rhythm, the bed creaking beneath them as they lost themselves in each other.

He kissed her again, hard and possessive, swallowing her moans as he drove them both closer to the edge. She could feel the pressure building inside her, her body tightening around him as she spiraled toward release. He reached between them, his thumb finding her clit, and the added stimulation sent her over the edge.

She shattered beneath him, her body convulsing with pleasure as her orgasm tore through her. He followed seconds later, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he buried himself deep inside her, his body tensing as he found his release.

They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and sweat-soaked sheets, both of them breathing hard. He rolled to his side, pulling her with him, their bodies still connected, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep her close.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. Finally, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice a low rumble in her ear.

“That was just the beginning,” he whispered, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. “We’ve got all night.”

She smiled against his chest, her heart still racing, and she knew he was right. The night was far from over, and the fire between them had only just begun. 

[yandere-yearnings]

Truly cannot think about anything else rn than just absolutely COVERING Sun in hickies fr

Throat, titties, inner thighs, literally anywhere this man will let me

Bonus points if I get to finger him or give him a handjob while i do it because honestly i need him to be whiny and needy and pathetic like rn or I will go insane ty

your mind honestly,, bringing all the good ideas to the table😌💕 this was getting lengthy so it's handjob, leading into implications of fingering bc the imagination is a wonderful thing haha🤧 i can do a continuation sometime if you want tho❗❗sun really isn't hard to make fall apart tbh you could breathe in his ear the wrong way and he's basically gone😔💔

NSFW under the cut!

Skin between teeth had never tasted so good to you. Fingers digging into damp flesh, curling into tense thighs, Sun gasped and his back pressed to the sheets. "Y/N," he whispered, and you could feel his Adam's apple bob against your lips, breathless, "I can't anymore..."

Underneath you, his body lay a mess, blooming mulberry and red where you couldn't stop yourself from biting. Your nails indented in the shape of crescents, on his hips and calves, marked into a heaving chest. You thought he looked the prettiest picture of debauched — but it still wasn't enough.

"Of course you can," you kissed at the tears on his cheeks, a devilish grin unraveling at the way his abdomen spasmed when your fingers brushed it, just shy of his leaking cock. "You can take it, you're always so good for me, aren't you?"

Sun's whine was broken, sounded like a sin where it tapered into a moan as your fingers finally gripped him. From base to tip, languid strokes that had him writhing. Candlelight could not catch his beauty, but the flames flecked spots of orange over wet skin; made him look ethereal.

"Please," voice choked, shaky fingers wrapping ever so loosely against your wrist, barely stopping you from the ministrations that were driving him mad. "Fuck- Please, Y/N, I won't- I won't last," his eyes squeezed shut, panting so hard it wracked the frame. Sun tasted of the salt in his sweat, but he oozed sweetness when he looked at you. As though the earth was opening up in the encompassing brown you'd fallen for, so tender when you placed a kiss to his neck, licked a trail down his sternum all the way, just to sink your teeth over his heart.

"Prettiest thing," you cooed when he whimpered, when your thumb played with that spot just under his glistening head, and you watched transparent fluid bubble up from the slit. "This is all you need, isn't it? All you could ever want."

"Y-Yeah..." Sun gasped, going entirely spineless, "g'nna come, fuck- Y/N," his head lolled to the side, lidded eyes barely able to focus. "Need you inside. Please."

Your brow cocked, hand stilling. "Oh?" You smiled. "You're honest today."

At those words, he glared, although the action didn't hold much weight with how hard he was trying to keep the sounds of his pleasure contained. "I always am," Sun muttered a second later, causing you to laugh.

"My bad," you kissed behind his ear, "you're right." Swiping at trails of spit leading to slick lips, and gently pushing your fingers into his mouth, you felt a surge of pride at how easily he took you in. His tongue laved at the digits with familiar ease, fluttering his lashes at you in that same provocative way as always. "Such a slut," you mumbled, amused.

"Just for you," he rasped as you retracted your hand. Little breaths puffed out slow, Sun watched with unbridled desire as you slid down between his legs, exactly where he wanted. "Isn't that how you like me?"

You hummed in agreement, planting a hickey just shy of his groin, somewhere on his plush expanse of inner thigh, "it's how I love you."

[noproofread]

More (NSFW)

god I love buggy. shout out to this one britney spears song for the inspo fr

Buggy x Fem!Reader

mentions of alcohol. praise, unprotected sex, dominant Buggy, reader wants buggy's attention and praise, with a little liquid courage anything is possible.

masterlist here

word count: 1,137

Buggy was no stranger to being the center of attention. Even during celebrations amongst the crew, he always found a way to be in the spotlight. You were the opposite, often looking for isolated corners to hide away from the chaos of your drunk crewmates. But you wanted his attention. You wanted him to see you. To acknowledge the way he made your entire body warm up. To notice how badly you wanted his praise, his approval. Amidst the loud music, the clinking of glasses full of liquor, and the laughter amongst the crew, you saw him in the middle of the dance floor. He was glowing. Captain Buggy, in his element. In a sudden impulsive moment, you downed an abandoned drink sitting on the table in front of you. The bittersweet liquid coated your tongue and burned your throat as it went down. It was strong, you felt it go to your head instantly. You paid it no mind as you found your way to more liquor. Drinking as much as you could before you forgot about why exactly you were avoiding the crowd.

Feeling woozy and warm, you stumbled your way to Buggy. Liquid courage guiding you towards the object of your desires. You tapped him on his shoulder, making him turn around to face you. “Do you wanna dance?” There was a slight slur in your words. He chuckled before taking your hand and shooting a wink to the band, queuing them to play a different song. The music filled the room, you felt every beat of percussion throughout your body as you danced with your captain. This newfound confidence allowed you to press up against him, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes. “I’ve never seen you dance before. What gives?” He asked, speaking close to your ear so you could hear him over the loud music. “Just want to have some fun with you.” You responded flirtatiously. You couldn’t believe the words could fall out of your lips so effortlessly. “Oh? How much fun?” He flirted back.

You felt your heart speed up. Completely forgetting that the rest of the crew could see you. It was just you and Buggy. The closeness you felt to your captain was intoxicating. The feeling of his hands on your lower back as you danced made you feel as if you were on fire. You wanted to feel him. You wanted more. As the song came to an end, you felt his grip loosen. You clung onto him, leaning towards his ear and whispering “I want more.”

The clown smirked, taking your hand and leading you away from everyone.

Hearing loud Oooooh's coming from your crewmates slowly fade into the background as the party continued behind you. You were in a dark hallway, Buggy in front of you. He walked until he had ensured complete isolation from anyone. Without warning, he pushed you up against the wall, pinning your hands above your head. “Is this what you had in mind?” He smiled as he began kissing your neck. You gasped, writhing under him. His stubble was rough against your skin but his lips were soft. He nipped gently at your skin, earning another gasp from you. He chuckled. “Feel good?” You could only moan in response. Leaving one hand restraining you, he allowed his other hand to roam your body. Occasionally letting his gloved fingers peek under your clothes to touch your skin. As he touched you, he remained mere centimeters away from your face. You felt his breath on your lips. Buggy looked into your eyes, beckoning you to beg for him. “Please kiss me,” You said breathlessly. “Only if you promise to be good for me.” He teased you, licking your bottom lip lightly as he awaited your response. “I’ll be so good, Buggy. Please.” You pleaded. You felt helpless in front of him. You felt his lips on yours. His breath was just as heavy as yours. You kissed him desperately, pressing your body against his as you felt your own arousal pool at the bottom of your stomach. His hands were under your top, yet still gloved you yearned to feel his skin on yours.

Buggy parted your legs with his knee, you felt his erection brush against your thigh. He groaned softly. “What if I fuck you right here in the hall?” He whispered. “Would you be good for me and keep quiet? Wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this.” You looked into his eyes, nodding desperately. “I’ll be quiet. I’ll be so quiet.” He smiled. “That’s what I like to hear. Good girl.” He said before reaching under your skirt, touching you over your panties. You bit your lip to hold back a moan. Buggy looked into your eyes, a mix of lust and mischief in his eyes. “You’re so wet for me.” He commented under his breath before unzipping his pants to pull out his hard, throbbing dick. A bead of precum leaking from the tip.

You held your breath in anticipation. Your head spinning from the alcohol and lust. You felt him use his tip to push your panties to the side, his hot erection rubbing your slickened lips. You buried your head in the crook of his neck to keep from mewling. Buggy hissed as he slowly entered you. Agonizingly slow. He let go of your hands so he could hoist you up, allowing him to find the most comfortable position to fully move into you. You rested your arms around his shoulders and felt him move deeper inside you, stretching you to accommodate him. He shushed you as you bit your arm, muffling a loud moan. “You feel so good” He groaned in your ear.

His thrusts picked up the pace, jackhammering into you sloppily. You placed your hand over your mouth, holding on to Buggy. Feeling him hit the spot consistently. Soft and gentle moans fell from your lips as you tried to keep your voice down. You felt yourself reaching your climax, biting Buggy’s shoulder to keep you from screaming out his name. “That’s it” He whispered. Those words launched you over the edge, feeling your walls tightening around him as you came. Buggy groaned in pleasure, feeling you squeeze down on him. He quickly pulled out of you, painting your thigh with his cum. You collapsed onto him, your knees weak. He caught you, trying to catch his breath.

He laughed softly, placing you down on the floor before fixing himself up and sitting next to you. Buggy took off one of his gloves and used it to clean up his mess from your thigh. You looked at him and chuckled. “You had enough fun?” He teased. You bit your lip playfully before responding.

“Could always have more.”

[jeonginsleftcheek]

happy birthday, love

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: 2.0k

warning/s: talk about insecurities and feeling unworthy of love, kinda corny me thinks, not proofread

a/n: i'm soft for him fr🥹🤍 i'm not completely satisfied with this but it's been in my drafts for weeks and it's my birthday soon so this is a little self-indulgent... hope you enjoy.🫶🏻

~check out my: Masterlist

You were never really big on celebrating your birthday. Many people made it seem like it was something so important, so grand when in fact it was just a day like any other. At least, that's how you always viewed it.

You always felt weird receiving gifts and special attention. It made you want to disappear. And it didn't help that every birthday you felt very melancholic, and you don't even know why. Often times, that melancholy would result in overthinking, feeling abandoned and then ofcourse - crying. It wasn't your birthday until you've had a little cry session in your bed.

Maybe it was because of those people who made it look like something worth anticipating, and when the day actually comes - nothing special happens. The world doesn't stop, the sun doesn't shine brighter, the flowers don't look prettier. Nobody and nothing cares. The Earth keeps spinning like it's none of her business.

That's what you told your boyfriend Chan too. You'd only been dating for 8 months but he wasn't afraid to shower you with affection, and you felt bad for not being so out there with your feelings like he is. You felt embarassed enough every time he got you a surprise present just because he thought of you. He knows you struggle with showing your feelings, much less talking openly about them but you really do love him and you are willing to do whatever's in your power to show him that you love him as much as he loves you.

Maybe through a warm meal you prepare for him when he's done with work, maybe with a shoulder to lean on when he's having a tough time, maybe with some good-hearted advice when he needs it, maybe with your embrace when he craves comfort... Maybe with your kisses, slow and intense, passionate and loving, wet and deep.

And you're sure he's the type to throw you a whole ass surprise party, make a grand gesture, buy you many gifts and that's why you begged him before your first birthday together not to do any of that.

Chan respects that, he only fears that you're pushing away his gestures because somewhere deep inside you feel undeserving of them. But he also wants to give you time to think and work through your problems, ofcourse leaning on him whenever you need to. He's always there in a blink of an eye for you.

It's hard for him to hold it in, his desire to shower you in gifts and affection but he doesn't want to seem too overbearing. It's not like he wants to buy your love, he just can't help himself when he sees something cute that reminds him of you, or something he knows you'd like or even something you two can share like a couple item.

He tries not to rush anything cause it took you a long time to even open up to him, he accepts your differences and definitely doesn't want you to change for him. He just wants you to know you deserve to be pampered, loved and gifted.

Chan thinks hard what he could do for your birthday to make it special, but also that it's nothing too grand or crazy at the same time. He knows you hate surprise parties so he crosses those off the list. He tosses and turns in bed, trying not to wake you when suddenly there's a lightbulb above his head.

-

It's just another Friday. Well, coupled with the fact that it's your birthday and your sweet boyfriend is the first to congratulate you as soon as you open your eyes.

"Happy birthday, love."- he whispers sweetly, his lips pouty and eyes shining as they look at you with so much admiration.

Him by himself was a good enough gift for you, perfect even and you lean in to kiss him as he wraps his arms around you tightly.

"No surprises, okay? I mean it, mister!"- you poke his chest as you part from each other.

"Yes ma'am!"- he smirks mischievously at you as he plays with your hair.

"You're planning something, aren't you?"- you squint your eyes at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."- he moves away to stretch his arms and you sit up.

"Don't joke around, Chan. I told you I don't want any grand gestures."- you say.

"Who said anything about anything grand? Come on, let me make you breakfast, hm? That's not considered grand is it?"- he smirks and pinches your cheek. You swat his hand away whining in fake annoyance at your silly boyfriend.

You could do with breakfast before another stressful day at work.

-

You're tired, begging for the day to end already and you can't stop thinking about dinner and a nice warm bubble bath when you come home. Maybe even a comfort movie and cuddles with your boyfriend under the blankets.

"Channie, I'm home!"- you yell from the door.

"In the kitchen!"- he yells back, a little too eagerly and your brows furrow in suspicion. Your heart starts thumping in your chest as you walk towards the sound of his voice.

When you enter, you're greeted with a smiling Chan standing next to a table full of food, candles and flowers in the middle.

"What's all this?"- you swallow, your chest tightening.

"Dinner for my birthday girl."- he smiles, coming towards you, his hands gently grabbing yours.

"Ugh, don't call me that. But fine, I'm hungry anyways."- you say and let him lead you to the table.

"M'lady."- he pulls your chair out and you giggle at his antics.

"You made all this for me?"- you ask, looking around the table.

"Yeah, ofcourse."- he looks at you so lovingly that your heart flutters.

"Oh, Channie. You really are too sweet. Thank you."- you say. Even though you hate your birthday, Chan didn't do anything grand just like you asked and you appreciate the work he put into cooking dinner and how mindful he was of your wishes. It makes you appreciate him even more.

"It was my pleasure, trust me love."- he smiles at you and you almost melt into a puddle.

You can see how much effort your wonderful boyfriend put into dinner, making all of your favorites and making them extra tasty, like he spiced it all up with the love he has for you.

"Chan, this is amazing! I didn't know you could cook this well. I don't mean that you're a bad cook!"- you panic, frantically waving your hands around. "This is just different."

"It's okay."- Chan chuckles. "I actually called Minho for advice."- he admits sheepishly, cheeks becoming rosy.

"Oh... Did he tease you?"- you chuckle.

"He teased the hell out of me."- Chan shakes his head, a little laugh escaping his lips.

"Well, we both know he would do the same for his significant other no matter how unbothered he acts."- you say, getting up to get rid of the empty plates.

"Oh no no, you sit down. I will get the plates."- Chan is on his feet immediately.

"Baby, it's really no problem."- you say but he snatches the plates out of your hands.

"Please, sit down."- he pouts a little and well you can't say no to that face.

"Close your eyes."- he adds after he places the dishes in the sink.

"Chan, no... I told you I don't want any surprises! Nothing too crazy..."- you shake your head.

"It's not crazy. Just humor me, okay?"- he says.

"Fine."- you roll your eyes in fake annoyance and then close them, a little smile of anticipation on your lips.

You hear shuffling, then feel Chan's presence closer as he puts something in front of you on the table.

"Open them."- he whispers, closer to you than you think he was.

You brace yourself and open your eyes.

"Is that a cake?"- your eyes widden.

"Yes, it's a cake, love."- Chan chuckles at your cute reaction. "I baked it for you."- he adds proudly.

"You baked me a cake?"- you melt again.

"Lix helped with that but yeah. You said nothing grand... even though I would buy you anything you ask for. But I just wanted to do something for you. Especially after a hard day's work."

Your eyes water suddenly, vision blurred and Chan gasps.

"Baby?! Are you crying?"- he panics, leaning down to take a look at your face, his arm wrapping around your shoulder.

You don't know what made you sob this hard, but you can't even speak, tears flowing down your cheeks and sobs leaving your lips.

Chan doesn't know what happened or if he did something wrong but he wraps his arms around you instinctively, pulling you into a hug. Anxiety washes over him as he rewinds what he said or did to make you so upset. You clutch at his shirt, burying your face in his neck, finding comfort in his warmth.

"I'm sorry."- you lean back after some time, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. Chan shakes his head as he hands you tissues.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You know I'm here for you. I just... wanna know if I did something wrong."- he says, biting on his lip nervously.

"No, no way. You're perfect, Chan. It's me... You go and do all this for me and I feel like an ungrateful bitch crying over nothing. I feel like you deserve someone better, someone who can treat you the way you should be treated. At this point, I don't even know why you're still wasting your time on me."- you spill your deepest feelings out, fearing that Chan will agree with you and you'd be left with nothing then. You barely look into his eyes and he looks hurt.

Why did you have to say that? You should've kept your mouth shut.

"H-how can you say something like that?"- Chan's voice wavers. "Don't you see how wonderful you are? How good you are to me? You may not say stuff outright like I do, but I see that you care for me in all the little things you do. You're always there for me, you cheer me up and believe in me even if I don't believe in myself. You understand me like no one ever did before. Sometimes even without words. You always think of me even when I forget about myself."- he talks, and fresh tears start sliding down your cheeks.

Your chest feels tight, and you blame yourself for upsetting your boyfriend, who has nothing but good thoughts about you.

"And I know we haven't been together for that long. But ever since the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one."

"Don't exaggerate."- you hiccup, trying to move away but his arms tighten around you.

"Don't you feel the same?"- he asks quietly and you look at him.

The puppy eye look kills you and you can't help the small smile spreading on your face.

"Ofcourse I do. I love you with all my heart, Chan. I just didn't think you love me so much. And it's really nothing you ever said or did, so don't think it's your fault. It's the stupid inner voice inside my head, telling me I'm unworthy. And whenever my birthday comes around, the feeling amplifies. I keep checking my messages and waiting for people to congratulate me. I cry if I think one person forgot my birthday. And then I feel like no one cares and that I'm all alone. I know it's dumb and it's not true but I can't help how I feel."- you explain.

"Do you feel alone now?"- he asks, cupping your cheek with his hand, his thumb swiping at the tears sliding down.

"No."- you whisper, your eyes fluttering as you lean into his touch.

"Then my plan was successful."- Chan smiles, leaning in closer to you.

"I knew you had something up your sleeve this morning."- you smirk, the sadness inside you slowly fading away.

"See, you know me so well."- Chan says and you giggle, your lips meeting his in a gentle kiss, the love he feels for you pouring from his lips to yours.

"I guess I do."- you smile as you part.

"Technically it's not midnight yet so it's still your birthday."- he starts.

"What did you cook up now?"- you ask and he chuckles.

"How about I prepare you a nice warm bath?"- Chan asks.

"Only if you'll join me."- you smirk.

"I think that can be arranged."

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg

[explicit-tae]

Carnal Desire (2/3)

You refuse to let Yoongi give you the cold shoulder, even after your night with him. So, you decide to show Yoongi that even if you were "his girl", that it didn't mean that you weren't desirable for others. @massivelyfullenthusiast @idkjustlovingbts @december-bae10 @baechugff @bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111

Part 1 | Part 3

Word Count: 3.172

Warning: smut, stripper reader, mafia/gangster yoongi, public type sex, haegeum type vibes fr fr, possessive/jealous yoongi, licking, nipple sucking, oral (f receving),

You hated Min Yoongi.

You hated how you allowed yourself back into your hometown.

You hated how you saw the same man you’ve been in loved with for years - and how it felt as if you fell for him again once more, a decade later.

You hated Min Yoongi because you loved him and it appeared as if your love for him was not enough for him to return to you.

It felt dirty being with Yoongi like this in public, even if the pair of you were in the furthest room from everyone - and held no cameras. But you could not bring yourself to care - not now. Yoongi was willing to have you like you’ve desired for years and you were going to take the opportunity.

Yoongi had touched you like a man starved, fully embracing his attraction and arousal. His hands - so large and calloused - rubs along your skin, gripping your hips, to your ass to cupping your breast. He isn’t sure where he wants to focus on - you were far too enticing for his hands to remain on one body part.

You weren’t complaining. Your hips had bucked against his erection, wishing it was him inside of you instead - but you’d take anything you can get for now. Your kisses were sloppy, his tongue sucking onto your own. It was intimate and the teenage girl in you had dreamed of a time like this - but damn was it better than you ever imagined. 

Yoongi knew of your crush on him back then and now that you were a grown woman, it’s hard to deny you. Your eyes were what once made him soft for you, always willing to do whatever it was that you asked. Now, the same eyes were filled with lust and mischief - and full submission.

“I missed you.” you admit once Yoongi’s lips trail down your neck and on your collarbone. 

Yoongi grunts. “Yeah?”

You nod your head, leaning it back so Yoongi has full control to continue his suckling upon your skin. 

“I wish I could’ve stayed with you.” you continue, letting out years of desperation upon him. You had to sound pathetic, but you didn’t care. Yoongi was yours now - as yours as you wanted him to be. “I wanted to be your girl so bad.”

“I know.” Yoongi groans at the sultriness of your voice. There you were again admitting not only your love, but your need for him. “You’re here now.” is all Yoongi can say. 

Ten years is a long time to make up. He was no longer the young fool he was back when you left, but now a man. He had power no one else his age had. 

Not only that, but you weren’t the same little girl giving Yoongi those innocent heart eyes - you were a woman now. He didn’t have to hold back the urges any longer; he knew you could handle whatever he was going to give you. 

“You can be my girl now.” Yoongi knows he’s going to look back and think how incredibly horny he looks feasting on your skin, but he can’t allow himself to care now as lust takes over. His tongue dips out to lick at your skin while his teeth nip at it. 

“You sure you aren’t going to allow me to leave again?” you decide to joke, a soft moan slipping through your lips. 

“You aren’t going anywhere, Y/N.” Yoongi nips your neck once more, holding you even tighter against him. “Even though you know that you aren’t going to leave me again.”

How right Yoongi was.

This isn’t how Yoongi wants to have you - not in the back room of a club as if you were some whore for him. But he doesn’t want to stop - and you don’t want him to.

“I-I just got that!” you hiss when you hear the ripping sounds followed by your breast pooling out.

Yoongi groans at the sight of your bare breasts. He licks his thumb before pressing it firmly onto your nipple, gripping your breast entirely into his large hand. “I’ll buy you more.” he murmurs. 

It’s hard to be upset when Yoongi looks as hot as he does, eyes low and filled with lust. The thin material of the lingerie thong becomes sticky with slick due to Yoongi’s erection rubbing right along it.

“You’re so beautiful.” Yoongi grunts before engulfing your nipple into his mouth whole. He suckles on it like a man starved, his right hand gripping and tugging onto your free breast. His fingers find your nipple and begin to twirl it between his thumb and index.

Your mind is foggy with lust - this is all you’ve ever wanted. To be with Yoongi, to have him fully. You wished he could have been the one you laid with first, but that couldn’t be possible. Your father forbade you to be with a man such as him - it’s sad to believe that his sickness is what brought you back to Yoongi.

More.

Yoongi wanted more. He needed more of you.

Yoongi doesn’t want to be too rough - he’s unsure truly what you were into or not. And you were such a submissive woman that you wouldn’t complain if he had gone too far. He attempts to be calm and not fully go down the path of dominance - but even he has a hard time.

“Yoongi…”

Yoongi releases your nipple from his lips, a soft popping sound coming from it. His lips are wet when he presses them against yours. His free hand slaps against your ass, pressing you against his hardened erection even harder.

“I missed hearing you say my name.” Yoongi inhales deeply when he releases your lips. “I remember it sounding so sweet when you were young. Now…” Yoongi pecks your lips once more, a flushed look upon his face. “...now it slips through your lips with such need.”

You nod your head with a bite of your lip. “I-I do need you.”

Yoongi groans with a shake of his head. You don’t know what you do to him.

“I want to taste you.” Yoongi lifts from the leather couch, holding you in a tight embrace. “See if you were as sweet as I always thought you were.”

You nod your head hastily. There were times back in your teenage years that you would hear rumors of Yoongi and his tongue - as much as it pained for you to hear because it was never you - and just how amazing he was with it.

Your back hits the leather couch smoothly and it takes no time for your thong to be off. Yoongi’s face is so close to your sex, eyes fixed on it intently. It causes you to feel hot with embarrassment.

“Stop.” Yoongi slaps your thighs away as they begin to close. He hikes your legs to sit on his shoulders. “You’re already so wet.”

Yoongi is so close to your exposed sex that your world is beginning to spin. A soft whine escapes your lips when you feel (and watch) as Yoongi brings a hand up to your clit. Two of his fingers spread apart your lips, his tongue peaking out to lick a single strip upon your clit.

Your head falls back and hits the couch, your eyes snapping shut. You gasp in pleasure, the once shyness you felt now out the window.

Yoongi was now suckling on your clit, his fingers sliding down at your entrance, teasing the wet hole.

Your toes curl at Yoongi’s suckling, his fingers inching closer inside of you. 

Shit.

Shit,

Shit.

Yoongi never comes up for air, nor does his tongue stop twirling your clit. His fingers are pumping deep inside of you and you’re pondering if he was ever going to get tired. 

You begin to sob, the cries mixed with your choked moans. Your thighs clenched, caging his head in that you would have to remember to unclench them so you wouldn’t be the cause of his suffocation.

“Feels so good, Yoongi.”  you grit through your teeth, thighs quivering in great pleasure. 

Yoongi’s fingers pump even faster - how was that even possible? His tongue continues to lap vigorously.

You begin to shake your head, a familiar feeling bubbling between your legs. This couldn’t be happening - you couldn’t cum this fast. 

“S-Stop, Yoongi!” your hand slaps against his forehead to push him away, but Yoongi doesn’t bulge. He continues to lap with the same ravenous need, fingers curling inside of you that hits a sweet spot each time.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker up to watch as you cum, not caring about the wail that releases from your throat. You managed to not crush his skull with your thighs - not like he was complaining. 

Yoongi lifts himself from your wet clit, his fingers popping out of you. He wraps his tongue around his fingers and sucks, humming to himself. Your eyes manage to open to see Yoongi in the act - it causes you to groan in hot embarrassment.

“Tastes so sweet.”

You noticed just how wet Yoongi’s lips were due to your juices, but he doesn’t seem to care. He kisses up your thigh until he’s face to face with you. His lips fall onto your own, your arousal coating your lips, but you do not care. You want Yoongi entirely too much to care about anything right now. 

“Please fuck me.” you beg when Yoongi releases your lips. 

Yoongi shakes his head, sighing. As much as he wants to, he has gone too far by doing this with you now. Though you had no complaints, he allowed lust to overtake him to the point that his first time with you was in a club. “Not here.”

You sigh in defeat at Yoongi’s tone, the seriousness in it telling you that there was no point in arguing. 

“Don’t look so disappointed Y/N.” Yoongi wraps you in an embrace once more, pulling you up from the couch. “You’re still my girl. I respect you more than to take you here.”

You hated Min Yoongi.

You hated Min Yoongi because that night with you and him was weeks ago and you have yet to see him. When you had the following night, you were met with flickering eyes and pure ignorance by the men at the club - who all came there to gawk and look at women.

“You’re no longer needed on the floor.” your boss had told you when you prepared to go on stage. “Nor are you needed for private dances.”

You were left stunned and before you could question your boss, she had sauntered away. You were instructed to do nothing but serve drinks to people at the bar. You were new to this, never mixing drinks often until now. The job required you to cover a bit more, yet you still showed more skin than usual. 

And yet, even as you stand here serving men, they appear to avoid you like the plague. They speak without looking at you, pay without as much as a nod. It was weird, truly. Something deep in your gut told you it had to do with a certain Min Yoongi.

What you never understood - but guiltily never questioned - was the large sum of money for you at the end of the night. Your boss hands it to you in an envelope with a curt nod and a short “good job” before going on to the next. The cash was a large sum and insanely more than the rest of the girls who were performing - and you were just a bartender.

“Maybe it’s because you’re Suga’s girl.” Bunny had said, eyes wide at the large sum of money. “That has to be so exciting.”

Exciting it could have been if you weren’t being ignored by the man. By the fourth week, you were expected to see Yoongi once you saw the men he was with that night when you first saw him. However, he was not with them. They lingered around, eyes towards the stage as they drank from a bottle they brought in themselves. 

“Where’s Yoongi?” you asked the men as the night was slowing down. Eyes turned towards you for a moment, each of them wide at the sight of you speaking to them. “Hello?”

“We shouldn’t be talking to you.” one man - dark hair with glasses - speaks first.

“I-I…” you knit your brows. “Why not?”

“You’re Suga’s girl.” another one speaks - same dark hair shaved into a low buzz cut. “We respect you.”

“And shouldn’t be talking to you.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I’m not his girl.” you hiss - but they wouldn’t believe you. You came up to them asking for Yoongi after all. “I...can you just tell me where he is.”

The one with the glasses shrugs his shoulders. “We were told to keep an eye-”

“Shut up.” another man - wearing a hat - hisses. “He doesn’t want her to know that.”

What you were gathering by the men’s words was Yoongi had these men here for the sole purpose of keeping an eye out on you - and now you were even more livid. 

“Tell Yoongi I want to see him tomorrow night.” you tell them, eyes to look at each of their faces. 

The men nod their heads and you take your leave.

The following night was one of anticipation. You waited for Yoongi to arrive and when he had, you stood straighter. His eyes met yours and the moment you thought was yours was not. 

Yoongi ignored you. He strolled by without a second glance or a smile. He sat furthest from the bar with the same men - even more men than before - and ignored you.

Your heart sank and for a moment, you contemplated what you’ve done.

But your self pity was then met with anger.

Yoongi was avoiding you and you had not a single reason why. You and him hit it off the last time you saw him - he had taken you home insisting that he would see you once more. He had gone radio silent and now refused to look your way.

You have decided now.

Min Yoongi was going to act like you didn’t exist, then you were going to do the same. He didn’t deserve the luxury of calling you his girl if he was going to ignore you the entire time. You were going to have Min Yoongi come to you.

“How long have you been bartending?”

Your eyes widened at the man's question. He was the first in weeks to directly talk to you and make eye contact. 

“Not long.” you smile, showing your teeth. You manage to not look Yoongi’s way to see if he was watching you. “I’m actually new here.”

The man nods. “I can tell. You’re a little heavy handed with drinks.”

You laughed at any and every joke the man said - even if it did hurt your stomach to do so with such dramatics. 

“Another shot?” you ask the man, raising your bottle towards him. You made it your mission to show your breast as much as you possibly could - that and to bat your eyelashes. 

“S-Sure.” the man slurs.

You lick your lips. In that moment, your head turns and your eyes lock with dark ones. The club is packed and the music is blaring, but you can easily find Yoongi in the crowd. He isn’t far this time, leaning against a wall watching you intently. 

You continue to watch Yoongi, unsure how you managed to not fuck up. Your freehand grasps the man's chin, tip his head back and pour the alcohol in the man's mouth. You turn your eyes away from Yoongi when you see him stand straighter. 

“You’re a wild one.” the man says once the alcohol hits his throat. “Yeah?” you say, smiling at him. You engulf the man in a quick - unsolicited, kiss. It doesn’t feel right - you didn’t indulge in things like this with men you didn’t know. However, you wanted to piss Yoongi off when you knew he was watching.

You release the man's lips and giggle cutely. Your eyes turn once more and notice that Yoongi was not where he was when you last saw him. 

You flinch when the bottle in your hand explodes with a loud shot. You shuffle away from the man as another shot rings out. There’s screaming throughout the club and then running, women and men all scattering to get out. 

You look over the bar with wide eyes at the man. He’s clenching his thigh while blood oozes out from it.

“W-What the fuck?” the man hisses when he’s suddenly kicked to the side, discarded. Your eyes, painfully slow, raised to who it was.

“What were you trying to do, Y/N?”

MIn Yoongi.

Of course it was Min Yoongi.

“Yoongi did you-”

“Of course I did.” Yoongi interrupts you. “Let’s go. We’re leaving.”

You shake your head in disbelief. The club is slowly evacuated, leaving no one but Yoongi, you and a few of his men - and the man that has been shot and now staining the club's floor. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” you hiss at Yoongi. “You shot a man-”

“That you were using to provoke me!” Yoongi slams his hand down at the bar table as he yells. “I’m sorry.” he says with a shake of his head when you flinch at his tone. “I don’t want to yell at you, Y/N.”

You inhale slightly. 

“You knew what you were doing, Y/N. Trying to make me jealous.”

“Now you want to talk to me?” you scoff in disbelief. “After you ignored all this time? Had me stop performing because I was,” you lift your hand to do air quotations. “Suga’s girl.”

“You are my girl.” Yoongi hisses. “That’s why I don’t want you working in this club. This is why I pay you every night a large sum of money in hopes you’d stop coming back to this place.”

You’re silent at Yoongi’s words, and he continues. 

“I want you to go back to school and do what you were doing before this.” Yoongi sighs. “Come with me, Y/N. We can talk about it at home.”

You want to shake your head and deny Yoongi - you want to scream and yell that he didn’t deserve you after ignoring you. But then you look into his eyes and know that you weren’t going to do any of that.

“Okay.” you nod your head, caving all too quickly for the very man you claim to hate not too long ago. 

You round the corner just as Yoongi’s men gathered the bleeding man in their arms, taking him somewhere you were exactly unsure of. 

“He’ll be okay.” Yoongi assures, wrapping an arm around you. “Poor fool didn’t know you were my girl.”

You gulp as Yoongi presses a kiss to your temple, a feeling in the pit of your heart that sinks lower between your legs at the pet name.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 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 Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; EMDR (VIVID intro to revisiting traumatic situations); crying + feelings of sadness; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; dangerously high heart rate; implied abusive situations; derogatory verbiage from past abuser; implied drug use; very unsanitary living conditions; visits to safe place; usage of containment strategy * * * revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ continuing to act on them ;)); reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; heavy petting; forgetfulness (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 11 (Part 2) Word Count: 23.9k+

a/n: i broke my promise, i know. :( i feel absolutely fucking terrible that i made you all wait, but life happens. :'( i wish this story was my main priority/job, but alas...that dream is not a reality. i need you all to know: when i say i'm going to do something, i fully intend on it, but...life (and crippling adhd + anxiety).

i am so incredibly sorry, my lovely readers. :(

also, life update to blame (only if you care to read). BUT, on top of trying to get my house completely cleaned/shit thrown away, i officially had to empty out my classroom (see also: due to toxic work enviro, i had to leave the career i've wanted to live out since i was six y/o). so, i'm currently in the process of completely shifting careers (going from one emotionally taxing career to another, but that is apparently the type of job my heart desires lol).

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

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

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

"I covet truth; beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

-🌼🌼🌼-

Monday

December 12, 2022

“So, any news on the baby since I last saw you?” Gia started, a sure smile on her face that helped ease you. “You had your second appointment on Thursday, right?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Dr. Rose wanted to just wait until closer to Week 18 so we could find out the gender at one session rather than having to wait between week 16 and week 18. Knock everything out at once,” you explained, clearing your throat. Looking around the office, you admired the pieces of floral art littering the walls, as you always did. “We’re going this Friday now.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Gia asked, raising a brow. She was rolling to her desk, getting the (seemingly) last thing she needed for your session today and placing it in her lap. “Not stressed about putting it off?”

“No, actually. I’m not stressed at all,” you acknowledged, sticking your lip out in thought. You hadn’t even thought to be stressed yet. Progress? Sure seemed like it. “It’s strange; the longer time passes, the bigger I get. . . The worries just aren’t as prevalent. It’s like I can feel that the baby is okay.”

“Not strange at all, babe,” Gia reassured with a shake of her head. Her platinum blonde hair was wavy today, framing her angular face perfectly. “Completely normal for new mothers to sort of get used to the pregnancy enough to feel at peace, per se. And I am so proud of you for getting to that point.”

“Well thanks,” you grinned crookedly, trying your best to settle into the worn, camel-colored leather of her sofa. “Can’t say the same for today’s session though. . . I am nervous about it.”

Gia waved it away, showing you a look of ease on her stark features. “No need. You’re the one in control, girly,” she winked, placing both white-sneakered feet on the ground. 

She reached in her desk drawer for the little pouch, the familiar one that you knew held the device you’d be using today. A sudden wave of nerves began to crash over you as she unzipped it, revealing it and the paddles that would be the catalyst in placing your brain. . .elsewhere— somewhere. 

Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?

“Here’s the plan,” she started, wheeling her chair closer to the couch, where you were trying your damnedest to sit comfortably. “We’ll start with your safe place to give you some sense of peace and stability — gotta make sure it’s still fresh and open in your mind.” 

You watched as she turned the knob of the device, the little green light beginning to blink to notate that it’s on. “Then,” she continued, situating the device to look it over before her green eyes settled back on you. “Once you feel comfortable, I’ll tell you to begin walking away. Whatever direction you’d like to go, it’s completely up to you.” 

Gia held the paddles out in front of you, and with clammy, shaky palms, you tentatively took hold of them. One in each hand, just like last time.

You couldn’t stop worrying about where you’d end up, where you’d walk away to. Walking away from your beautiful field, from Jake. . . What if you couldn’t do it? 

“Will I. . .,” you cleared your throat, nervous. “If where I go is too hard, do I just—,” you panicked, unable to properly finish your sentence due to an onslaught of nerves. “What will I do?”

You were fumbling with your words and clarity, before she interjected, knowing just where your mind was going. “I’ll simply tell you to walk back to your safe place. I’ll be talking you through it, I’ll be right here the whole time — just gotta keep your ears open for me,” she winked, clicking open her iPad and testing her Apple pencil on the screen, readying to take notes. 

“And, if at any point I see your body language change to indicate any distress, I’ll guide you back to your safe place, okay?” She soothingly told you the words, her full pink lips widening to a sweet smile, clicking her pencil into its spot at the top of her iPad case. “Remember, my specialized area is EMDR. I’ve done it multiple times before this – successfully. I plan to complete this successfully with you, too, y/n.”

When you gave her a small, timid smile, she took that as an indicator to continue on with her little speech. The tiny faux grin on your otherwise concerned face was the most emotion you could muster in that moment. 

“It will hurt from time to time. I can’t take that away. It will be harder than most other things you’ve ever had to do.” She paused, her own brows curving to show care for your rigid state. Gia reached forward to unwrap your hands from the paddles gently. Once she had a hold on your hands, she rubbed the backs of them reassuringly, her thumbs so soft with their intricate patterns. You looked down to study the patterns, working to focus on something else and rid yourself of the nerves. 

“Y/n.” She stated your name, making you look up at her. Her seafoam-colored eyes grabbed yours. “Before we begin. . . I want to make sure – once more – that you are sure about this . . . that you want to continue. We’ve talked about it a lot, but I want you to be sure. There are other routes of therapy. . .”

“No,” you replied, completely sure of your decision. “No. I want to do this. I promise I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to change my mind,” you rushed out, desperate for her to understand you. “I’m just–just scared. Is that not okay?”

You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but your biting tone contradicted that. The nerves were wracking you, from the inside out. 

Luckily, Gia seemed unphased, keeping with her featherlight touch to the backs of your hands. “It absolutely is okay to be scared,” she confirmed, tone firm and soft all at once. “But, I need you to keep in mind: you are in charge this time. You have the power. We will approach these places in the now – you are in the driver’s seat of conquering these past battles. We’re in this together, love – and we will make it out stronger and better than before we started.”

Her voice assured you, of course. But the fear was still ever-present. 

Sure, you did have control. But what if you couldn’t control where you went? 

Where would you go? That was what scared you most. Your mind was bound to let loose. It was one telling part of this sort of therapy. You didn’t really know what had been hiding deep in the drawers of the credenza in your mind. . .  

Hence you being here.

You just knew, whatever it was lying beneath the surface — you knew it was. . . a lot. 

Then, as if she could hear the additional fearful thoughts swimming in your brain, she grasped your hands tighter in hers, moving to rub her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “You’ll be just fine. We’ve got a solid plan, babe. I just need you to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself. If you need to walk away, tell me and we’ll do it. That is in our power – your power.” Her pristinely white, pearly teeth were on display as she looked deep into your worried eyes. “We can do this, okay?”

We. I’m not alone. 

You’d never had a single doubt about Gia. Of course you trusted her. But. . .maybe the true problem was trusting yourself. . . Over the past several months, you were finding that to be a bit more difficult. 

But, Gia was right. You had to put some trust in yourself to know when you needed to step away. You could do it. You had to.

And knowing that she had a plan and had done it so many times before. . . Those were relieving thoughts, to say the very least. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what was best for you. 

I can do this, you recited to yourself. I can. . .

You sighed, out of both relief and persistent worry. “I trust you,” you told her, another somewhat forced smile following your words. “And I’ll learn to trust myself. . . I’ll try my best,” you grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got this.”

“Good deal,” she responded with a far more sincere smile than you could offer. “There’s just one more thing we need to do before we get started.” 

She clicked her iPad closed, wheeling back toward her desk, reaching down in the same drawer she pulled the device from. Only this time, she pulled out a large legal style, white notepad, and a large box of Crayola markers. Lastly, she grabbed a flawlessly sharpened pencil from the ceramic baby blue jar, covered in white roses, next to her keyboard. 

What could she be up to? You wondered, eyebrows drawn together. 

“I need you to describe something for me, something visual to lock any horrible memory away in.” She took a sip of her tea, which sat atop her desk, before she stood up from her chair. She came to sit directly next to you on her couch. The smell of eucalyptus that swirled off of her, from her perfume, was soothing. “You need to give it lots of detail, make it unique. I’ll even draw it for you,” she held up the notepad, pointing to it with a gentle smile. “Seeing it visually will help you when it’s time to lock the memories away mentally. Some people want a box, a filing cabinet, a treasure chest,” she laughed, and you giggled at that one, too. Jake would love that one. Buried treasure, like his pirate documentaries. . . “Whatever you want. You just tell me exactly what you want it to look like.” 

Something about this felt a little silly, but you understood the purpose for it. Just having a place to put the memories after you visited them, it felt like closure. A special sort of closure at the end of every session, just like your safe place felt like closure. . .

And then, you knew what you wanted it to look like. Saw the image, clear as day, in your mind. It felt significant to you, it felt right. There was no question. 

But, you had a thought.

“Would–would it be okay if I drew it?” You questioned carefully. 

She eagerly handed you the notepad, markers and pen with a huge smile. “Absolutely. That’s called trusting yourself big time, girly. This box is a special one!” Her voice was wet as she sniffled. “I’m not supposed to get so emotional with my clients, but I’m proud of you. You’re making great strides and we’ve barely started.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit encouraged, your own throat tight as you reviewed her once more with a glance. 

Then, sticking the tip of your tongue out from the corner of your mouth, you looked down at the paper, and began. 

A small, wooden box was all you could see in your mind. So, you drew it out, as best you could, given your lack of artistic abilities.

One side, then the other, the bottom, the top. . .

Before you knew it, you had a perfect, rectangular box on the stripped notebook paper. Then, it was time for the important part: the details. 

There was only one element that felt right — felt safe — to decorate the box with. 

Scouring through the markers, you found two perfect shades of purple at the bottom — two very different shades, to add depth. You weren’t an artist, really, but you could pretend for the box’s sake. 

Then, you searched for the greenest green you could find. One more marker in a shade of dark brown, and you were ready to draw the box exactly as you saw it in your mind. 

You began drawing tiny individual stalks of lavender on top of the box. You filled in their blooms with the purples, drawing their stems underneath with the green. Their placement may have seemed scattered across the top, but you kept going. To you, it made sense. And that was all that mattered. 

One bloom in the top left corner, one diagonal from it in the bottom right corner. Then, there was one on the bottom left going straight up and down, with a slight curve to the stem. . . And one more, laying on its side directly in the middle. . .

It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.

You filled in the blank spaces with the brown marker, immulating the antiqued, stained mahogany wood you were envisioning. 

And once you filled it all in, your vision had come to life right before your own eyes. It was the ideal picture of what you saw, and despite the fact that you were no artist, it was beautiful. You loved it. Looking at it forced emotions you weren’t expecting, so many big emotions that begged to be surfaced. 

And for whatever reason, looking at it made you think of the baby. This beautiful, hand drawn box held a strange connection to the life you and Jake had created, though you couldn’t explain how. . . 

But, you felt it. You felt it so strongly. 

“Lavender means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Gia asked you, smiling and wiping away a stray tear that sat on top of her highlighted cheekbone. “It’s very lovely, y/n. And I’m so glad that you drew it.”

You contemplated her question about lavender. You’d never considered just how prevalent it was in all of your happy places. . . But, it was. It meant so much. . . 

Who knew that such a simple plant could bring you so much comfort? So much peace? 

A tear came to your eye at the thought of how special the plant had become to you. . . It was really no secret why it’d become special. 

Gia leaned over, giving you a small side hug, but didn’t linger before making her way back to her chair. She sat at the edge of it, elbows placed on both knees as she clasped her hands at the front. 

“How are we feeling?” She asked, sniffling once more as she looked you directly in the eyes. “A little better now that we have our box?”

“Yes,” you nodded, wiping under your eye to rid yourself of any tears. “The box idea is genius.”

“The technical term is containment. Again, it’s simply where the client creates a space to store the distressing memories. I want to emphasize that the memories aren’t coming back to control you, rather you’re the one controlling them. And, the box’s containment of the unpleasant memories gives you a little extra control over these memories and the emotions attached to them. They’re yours to deal with,” she explained softly. “You done with the notebook and pens?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded eagerly, handing the materials back to her. You went over her words in your head, extra control. . . the idea of that sounded wonderful to you. Those words aided in lifting a decent amount of weight from your nervous body. 

She took the materials from you, and as she did so, you decided to take the paddles in your hands once more, feeling much more confident. 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling back in her tufted chair to put the markers and pencils back on the desk. “I definitely can’t take credit for the idea of containing those horrendous memories in a certain area. . . but it has proven wonderfully effective for every client I’ve practiced this form of therapy with,” she explained further, coming back to sit in front of you, wheeling smoothly back towards you. When she was about two feet away from you, she stopped and observed the picture of your box, the notepad still in her lap. “Do you have a clear idea of the box in your mind?”

“The clearest,” you affirmed, no question in your mind of the precise placement of each piece of lavender. The exact color of mahogany that you’d depicted for the wood, sealed in your brain. 

“Wonderful. Well, I’m going to hold it so I can get a good idea of it; just in case you need help finding it at any point,” she said, eyes scanning the page as she spoke. “I’d love to see this in real life – it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so, too,” you grinned, eyes twinkling. And, suddenly, your body felt light in a way that could only indicate one thing. . . you knew there was no time like the present. “I’m ready.” 

Gia looked up at your words, her own eyes donning a spark as she tucked the notepad onto her lap. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she smiled kindly, her eyes trustworthy and open for opportunity. “First things first. Make yourself as comfortable as you need to. Sit, lay down. . . it’s up to you.”

You kept yourself upright on the couch, allowing yourself to sink back into its cushions a bit more. And for some reason, the thought of crossing your legs, criss-cross applesauce came to mind. So, you did just that, bringing your legs up to the couch and criss-crossing one over the other. You looked at your belly as you did. A timid grin crept along your lips at the thought of knowing you didn't have much longer until you’d no longer be able to do this. 

Thank you, sweet baby.

With one deep breath in, you felt your stiff limbs loosen with the comfort of the new position you found yourself in. And with the exhale, you looked down at the paddles in your hands, holding them probably a bit too tight as you felt your nails digging into your clammy palms. Still yet, you kept your grip, somehow feeling a bit more secure that way. 

“Nice and comfy?” Gia asked, her warm, knowing smile aiding in relaxing your body even more. 

You looked down at your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the cool plastic of the paddles. You knew this was it, that this could begin to change a lot; it could change everything. The thought of change was a frightening one, but with this change would come a healing journey like you’d never known. For you, for the baby, for  Jake, even. . .

“As I’ll ever be,” you confidently answered. You were ready to embark on this expedition of mending. 

“Perfect,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring. “Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself relax.”

You did as she said, and with one breath in through your nose and blowing it slowly out of your mouth, you closed your eyes. 

You felt your chest rise and fall with each breath. You began to breathe deeper and easier the longer your eyes were closed. 

“Good job.” You heard her sweet voice, feeling comforted by the simple fact that you knew she was still with you. Though you could no longer see her, you felt her. And that was more than enough. “I’ll start the paddles off slowly, just like last time. Turning them on in 3, 2. . .” 

Your body instinctively jolted at the light humming sensation you felt against your palms, your eyes closing a little tighter. But, you quickly remembered the feeling from last time and it didn’t take you very long to get used to it. You even found a little relief in the alternating vibrations. Their consistent rhythm worked to ease your mind. Your eyes, though still closed, instinctively followed in the back and forth motion of the pulsations in your palms. 

“Does this speed feel okay?” You heard her ask, her voice suddenly becoming more distant as you let yourself focus on the steady thrumming of the paddles. 

“Yes,” you whispered, the sound of your voice echoing as though you were in a long, narrow tunnel. “Feels good.” 

“We’ll start with establishing your safe place, y/n. Go ahead and start walking to it. Lead the way.” 

My safe place. 

Suddenly, as though the mere mention of it had  some sort of ability to transcend you there, you began feeling the familiar cool breeze against your face. Faint sounds of the birds singing in the forest of trees filled your ears, becoming a bit louder as you found your footing against the lightly dampened grass beneath your feet. “The birds,” you felt yourself say. “They’re singing, their chirps are becoming clearer now.” 

“Wonderful.” Her voice was heard all around you, echoing against the wind. “Tell me what you see.” 

Your eyes, still physically shut, began to open in your mind. They squinted at the bright, warm rays from the sun. And as you turned your face upwards toward the sky, you could feel the radiance of the rays against your skin. 

And, as you peered a few feet ahead of you, you witnessed a beautiful family of deer were perusing the lush meadow. 

“The sun. . . It’s so beautiful and bright, but it doesn’t hurt to look at it,” you shared with her, squinting towards it with no negative effect, shocked by the fact. “And the deer. So innocent and pure. They’re so near to me, but not scared of me at all.”

“You’re doing amazing, y/n. Keep going, tell me what you can touch, what you can smell.” Her voice carried throughout the trees like the wind, meshing beautifully with the songs of the birds. 

Bending down, you ran your fingers through the dewy blades of grass. They felt cool, soft. Like a blanket of emerald velvet. “The grass. It’s soft, a little wet.”

And then, the smells. The fragrance of freshly rain coated grass, as though an evening shower had just finished nourishing the ground before you’d arrived. The rainfall, sustaining the life of the pasture, the jude green grasses, the illustrious amethyst plant surrounding you. . . 

The divine aroma from your favored flower overwhelmed your senses in the most alluring way. The bloomed field, surrounding you, holding you carefully in its gentle grasp. 

“The lavender,” you felt yourself say, eagerly. “I can smell it, so fresh and clean; the sense of calm it brings me. . .” 

You then felt the paddles pick up in their speed, ever so slightly, but enough that you could tell.

“Oh yes, your lavender,” Gia hushed as she positively tracked with you. 

My lavender. 

Gently, you sat your body down in the midst of the flowers. And once you did, you felt the urge to place your hands against your tummy, to feel the baby, just like last time. 

There you are, right where you belong, you thought when you felt the smooth bump beneath your hands. 

You felt nearly complete, nearly, but you knew something was still missing—someone. 

And just when you started to look beyond the stems of lavender to find him, there he was. 

Clad in the very same navy blue, three piece suit you’d seen him in the first time. The rays from the sun bounced off of his chestnut locks, his tanned skin radiant and glowing. 

With a soft, lopsided smile, he slowly walked toward you. The vision of him, walking amongst the stalks of lavender as they gently swayed from the light breeze against his calves. . . You felt yourself sigh with relief. 

This was safe. This was home. 

Once he approached you in what felt like no time at all, he laid down right beside you, extending one arm out for you to join him. And as you did, letting yourself at last melt into his warm embrace, you were finally there. 

Your safest place.

“I’m here now,” you muttered, feeling yourself smile warmly as you did. “And I’m safe.” 

“Enjoy it for a moment, let it sink in, put yourself at ease.” You heard Gia’s voice, but the more you focused on Jake, the more distant she became. 

You found yourself gazing into his eyes, sparkling like golden gems, as he cradled you in the crook of his arm. 

In his amber-brown eyes, you saw your haven, your sanctuary of serenity. 

A gentle smile graced his lips as he reached up, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s time to step away now, y/n,” he told you. Though, you knew it was truthfully Gia telling you, you heard Jake’s voice. You watched his lips move as he spoke, “You can do this. I’m right here.” 

Again, you knew the words were coming from Gia. But, hearing them in his voice, as much as you didn’t want to leave him, it was the final push you needed. 

It was time. 

With only a bit of resistance, you sat up, slowly standing to your feet and urged yourself forward towards the unknown. When you looked back, you saw Jake standing gracefully amongst the fragrant blooms of your lavender. 

Home, you thought. He looks like home. 

With one final sigh, and with the most strength you were sure you’d ever mustered, you walked away from him. 

Your hands found your belly for some extra courage as you stepped away, everything turning black for a moment once you got far enough. But, the further you went, a tiny, dim light caught your attention. It initially seemed like miles away, but with every step you took, it became worlds closer. 

A lamp. You could finally see it. It was old, dusty. It was sitting atop a table, from what you could tell. . . 

With one more step, the full picture started to come to you. You’d guessed right — it sat on top of a round, wooden table that only had one leg in the center, making it lean a little to the left. The white, canvas lampshade was stained so badly. . . 

The stains were reminiscent of those that come from years of smoking cigarettes near it. 

In fact, you were shocked that you could tell it had ever been white. 

As the image became more clear, you saw a black ash tray next to the lamp, full of cigarette butts, all but confirming your cigarette theory. You could smell the smoke, too, as though someone had just finished one off. The stench was putrid, the chemically treated tobacco mixed disgustingly with the other trash laying on the table. 

To the right, you saw a sofa. The blue cloth over the cushions, stained just like the lamp, was tattered and worn. It was full of holes. Tiny, black holes. Cigarette burns?

God, the smell was nearly becoming too much. It was so strong, potent. Cigarettes and filth. Utter filth. Filth that you suddenly began to remember being suffocated by as a child.  

No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .

The shag carpet beneath your feet felt like it had never been vacuumed after years of wear. It was littered with half empty beer cans, more cigarette butts, rat droppings. . .

God — the fucking smell. A triggering smell—one that had your stomach turning to the point that vomit rose in your throat. 

The paddles sped up a bit more, much more noticeably this time as they forced your brain to grasp what you were experiencing. 

“Tell me what you see, y/n. Tell me where you are.” It was no longer Jake’s voice that you were hearing, it was once again Gia’s. And though you missed the sound of his, you were so happy to hear her, reminding you that she was still there. 

This was the past. Gia was the present. You were with Gia.

You stepped to the side, glancing around the room you were standing in, trying with all of your might to not allow the stench to make you sick. 

“It’s—I’m in a living room, I think. . .?” You noticed a television set, one from the late nineties with a built-in VCR, sitting on top of a makeshift table made of three small slabs of particle board. 

The more you looked around, you noticed there was only one average-sized window in the whole room, next to the white front door. The door was scuffed to hell and looked ready to give at any second. The blinds attached to the window were ripped to shreds, hardly hanging onto the frame. 

“Y-yeah, it’s a living room. It’s. . .It was our living room. One of them, at least. I’m fully beginning to. . . To recognize it. . .”

You’d lived in so many homes as a child, seen many living rooms. But this one, this home and the walls surrounding you. . .this one was different. While most homes from your childhood didn’t leave you with happy memories, this one felt—evil. This had been a personal hell.

Anxiety, heavy sadness. . . this room was wrought with it.

And as you heard a certain laugh, deep and throaty, from the next room over, your stomach churned and your mind went fuzzy. That sound. It was vile and thick with too many years of smoking. That particular laugh was associated with ugliness and gut-wrenching fear. 

The man that the laugh was attached to. . . This was his house. You remembered that now. There was no safety here. This place was only associated with feeling powerless, forgotten, and lonely. 

The paddles wiggled in your hands, the vibrations reaching your worn nerves.

Elsie was here, though. Somewhere. You knew that. 

And Elsie had helped in making it less lonely — just knowing she was in this past-tense moment filled you with ease. Your sister was here. 

Though, you knew for past Elsie, she was still trapped. Even though she comforted this adult version of you that was invading. . . there was still no escape for little girl Elsie. 

This place had been desolate, with no chance for escape. You’d been tied here by invisible rope.

Fuck. Where was your sister? You could feel her near, but she wasn’t in the living room with you. Your skin prickled at what she could be experiencing. . . You couldn’t fully wrap your brain around it. 

But this was the past. Right now, you just needed to focus on your surroundings.

Living room. The living room. 

Your mind was quickly skirting back to your present placement. And, rather than standing, you suddenly realized you were sitting on the ground. Strangely, your hands in the memory were free of the paddles, tucked safely in your lap, shaking. . . And not daring to touch the dirty, shaggy carpet. 

For a split second, you wondered. . . Why were you not sitting on the couch or a chair? And why were you sitting in a place you felt you couldn’t move from? Was this how you’d been placed originally? In the past? 

You observed the wobbly dinner table in front of you and realized it had zero chairs. And on a second glance around the room, you noticed something you hadn’t before. . . a sleeping form on the couch. 

So, it seemed, with the occupied couch being the only other piece of furniture in the living room besides the table. . . the floor had been your only option. 

You used the unconscious state of the room’s other occupant to your advantage and turned a bit to observe the person. The person’s face wasn’t visible and their body was covered in a blanket filled with holes and torn more than it wasn’t. But. . . You could see hair. 

Blonde. Yellow-blonde. Box-dyed with the cheapest dye. 

Long hair, ratty and knotted to the point of almost no fixing it. The way the strands shone a little bit under the dim lighting from the old, dusty lamp showed you it was very oily as well. . . It wasn’t a healthy shine. 

The person on the couch, from what you could see, was far from healthy in any capacity. The body looked malnourished through the blanket’s holes. At closer inspection, you noticed an arm dangling off the sofa, peeking from the blanket. 

The arm was littered in tiny holes and scars. . . from heroin injections, multiple cigarette burns. . . Then there was the red, irritated acne that littered the pale skin, between the various marks. 

Poor thing. What a dreaded way to live life. . . Your heart broke in your chest and tears sprung to your tired eyes as your hand clutched at your tummy. 

You could do that in the memory. You were you in the present, yet placed like you’d been in the past. . . so weird.

All you knew was you had a sense to protect the untouched life in your womb. The feeling of being a protector to your child was unparalleled to anything in this moment. . . You would never let the little life inside of you bear witness to anything like you had as a child. . .

Like your current situation. 

Or, past situation, rather. . . This was not real. Not in the present. This was controlled — controllable.

The paddles jolted in your real hands, helping you to center you.

“Y/n,” Gia’s voice broke through your psyche, touching your brain delicately. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her soft spoken tone. “Can you hear me, girly?”

You nodded, but weren’t sure if she could see it or if the action was only visible in your dreamlike stupor. This was so weird. . . 

So, you decided to respond the best you could with words. “Y—yeah,” you stuttered out, blinking rapidly as you tried (and failed) to keep tears at bay. “This is. . . So familiar, yet so forgotten. . .,” your voice faded out. 

Your eyes in the memory were now pinched shut, trying to keep the laughter you could still hear from the kitchen (because, yes, you somehow knew exactly where it was coming from) far away. 

But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .

“Tell me where you are, y/n,” Gia requested, soothing, yet strong. “Take me with you. You are going to be okay.”

“I—I can’t—,” gasping, you shook your head. 

Willing the menacing, thick chuckle to fade, you squinted your eyes open slowly, tried to refocus on the living room to tell Gia what you could. Your hands still held your belly, but your thighs came closer to your chest. You wanted to scrunch up and stay in your bubble. 

“Y/n.”

Your blood ran cold and your skin prickled harshly with goosebumps. Fear. Terror. Dread.

The voice wasn’t Gia’s. It wasn’t Jake’s. No. It was coming from behind you. The person on the couch. The worn down, baby blue fabric couch. The navy blue patterns of it, a distant memory, washing back quickly like a flood. . . 

This was definitely a memory. A real thing that had happened in the past. This had happened before. It was deeply repressed. 

A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.

You felt dirty for more reasons than one now. . . 

Looking down, you noticed your outfit had changed. Though you still looked as you currently did in 2022, you were wearing an outfit you had as a child. The attire made your skin crawl. 

This pajama set, you were made to wear it more often than not.

A tiny, satin set. Too small for you to properly fit into. How old were you? Nine? Ten? Was this right before you went to live with. . .?

“Pig.”

No. Not that nickname. No no no.

You hadn’t heard that since your mother had called you–.

The person on the couch.

“Piggy.”

Did you have it in yourself to face her? Could you? What would happen if you didn’t? No. No.

You had to. The baby, safe in your belly. . . that baby needed a mom who could face her demons and not fall to them. 

. . .Fall to them like the shell of a woman, on the couch behind you, had fallen to hers. 

You felt crippled with fear, but brave beyond comparison all at once. . .

The steady tremors from the paddles in your hands were the best help you could’ve had in the moment, reminding you of your power. . .

And, once you’d given yourself the strength to swivel your body to meet her eyes. . . there she was. 

A woman whose face had become a shadow since she’d left you. The moment she’d left you. . .a mess of snot and tears, head throbbing as it laid on Elsie’s shoulder, desperate to understand a mother that had never seemed to love you. 

Your eyes were her eyes. Thankfully, that was about where the similarities in your features stopped. 

She was paler than you. Her lips, thin and cracked from lack of hydration where yours were full. Her cheekbones were sharp and protruded more than they should. . . Your cheekbones, defined, yet concealed under soft skin you took very good care of . . . 

And her face. . . It also lacked freckles. You had the tiniest spatter of light freckles that sat at the tops of your cheeks. Your freckles, mimicking angel kisses, which stayed mostly hidden save for the summertime when they’d make an appearance after exposure from the sun. Her skin was washed out, lacking color. It was as if she hadn’t even been exposed to the sun for a long, long time. . .

Perhaps you might’ve looked more like her than you could tell at this moment. But, right now, all you saw was a sunken face, holding more wrinkles and lines than a woman her age should hone. And, her eyes,  even if they looked like yours initially, were glassy and hollow from too many drugs. . . 

Right now, they held uncertainty and a rage that was becoming more and more apparent the longer you looked into her eyes. . .

She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious. 

The fury, pointed towards you. 

“Get. Up,” your mother ordered, voice cracking a bit, spit flying past her chapped lips. The tone of her voice. . . it made your heart jump into your throat. “Do your job, Pig.”

Before you could respond, you felt heavy footsteps make their way into the living room, shaking the weak structure of the small home that seemed to be falling apart around you. 

“Move, you lazy drug slut,” a booming voice growled. You knew it was aimed towards your mother. “Give little Piggy some space to sit next to Mr. Morgan, hm?”

Mr. Morgan.

The paddles buzzed in your hands, re-centering you. 

You didn’t dare look at the man who’d entered the room behind you, knowing it was the same man attached to the laughter from the kitchen. 

So, it was only out of your peripheral vision when you noticed him round to the other side of you, getting close to your mom. The next thing you saw, faded from the corner of your eye, were fat, sausage-like fingers reaching to yank the thin blanket off your mother. The unmasked view of her figure broke your heart further, her body shaking, bones on full display through her papery skin, begging for a fix. . . 

It didn’t take long for those same fingers to forcefully clutch her shoulder and yank her up. You could’ve sworn you heard the bones in her shoulder crack, but she barely let out a yelp. It was more of a tired groan, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn in with irritation towards being disturbed. 

But, she shook more. . . Her bones, most likely rattling under her skin. And this time, you knew it was more from nerves and terror, than lack of drugs. She was just trying to play tough.

Mr. Morgan (the name, making bile rise in your throat) came to sit at the end of the couch, but your eyes once again drew shut and your body became rigid. Even if you were facing the couch, you still only kept your body towards your mother’s. She wasn’t safe, by any means. But she wasn’t Mr. Morgan. 

You couldn’t look at him. The vile smell of him alone, sweat and grime from lack of showering. . . You were going to hurl on the spot. The way the nausea quickly began to rise in the hollow of your throat, you knew there was no time to get out now. . . Your heartbeat was thrumming so vigorously in your chest, you felt like you were going to choke on its strength.

Then the ugly, bitter laughter was back again. . . Right in front of you this time, your mother moaning next to him. . .

A distant beeping in the background. . . what? Where was that coming–?

The intensity of the paddles increased, the vibrations working to balance you amidst the fear.

“Open your eyes, Pig,” Mr. Morgan grunted, reprimanding you. His voice was stark and loud against the decaying walls of the living room. You winced with what you imagined to come, your heart accelerating and your blood running colder than cold. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes, my little whor–.”

The paddles were working so hard to bring you back, but you couldn’t–.

“Y/n.” Gia’s voice rang out through the disgusting home, flowing into your ears, reassuring you. “It’s time to leave, y/n. Find your safe place.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, not with the tears streaming down your face and the way your breath was stuck in your lungs. Your chest stung from the way your heart rate wouldn’t let up. . . the way your heart raced, unrelenting and beating harder every time. . . . The pain was excruciating, making you want to keel over from the intensity. 

There wasn’t a memory of leaving the room, you just knew you had left as you ran. 

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, eyes still shut to avoid being used by him–Mr. Morgan. God. You hated that man. You hated your mother. 

But, you weren’t with them anymore. The rotting smell of the home and the body odor that reeked from the two people in your vision – it was all gone. You were out. So, you decided to open your eyes. You had to open them to find the place you’d created for a time just like this. . . 

Your place. Your home. The field of lavender. Jake. Peaceful serenity, awaiting you amongst the birds chirping and the light blue skies. . .

So, with eyes open and tears streaming down your cheeks, you decided you needed to be there now. Now now now now. . .

And before you could request it any further, your feet were touching the lush grass and the skies were clear and powdery blue above you. . .

“Are you safe, y/n?” Gia asked, her voice much clearer when you were in the field, surrounded by nature. Your sanctuary. 

“Yes,” you breathed, voice cracking just a little on the word. You hadn’t spoken for a while. . . Too scared to do so. Clearing your throat, you tried once more. “Yes. Yes, I’m safe. I’m in my safe place. The lavender. The beautiful, tall trees filled with green leaves. The breeze is perfectly warm against my face. . .”

“Wonderful,” Gia said, sounding relieved and stoic all at once. “You are okay, girly. You are okay. It’s not your current reality. It’s not right now. This is right now. You are safe.”

Yes. I’m safe. 

Your breathing was coming much easier and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears any longer. 

Your hands found your belly, the sweetest little round bump.  But where was. . .?

Then, you felt him. Jake. 

Solid and sure behind you, his chest meeting your back. His arms, coming to wrap around you, cradling you and the belly that held his baby. Your head, falling of its own accord to lay back on his shoulder. . . 

You were finally able to relax. Let go. The tears poured from your eyes, wetting your cheeks with steady tracks.

“Shhh,” Jake shushed you, the minty smell of his toothpaste lingering on his breath as it washed over your features. The sandalwood-vanilla of his cologne was reminiscent of heaven, you were sure of it. “It’s okay, baby.”

He swayed you a little, your eyes falling closed in peaceful surrender to him and this moment. . .

“Y/n, I want you to think of your box,” you heard the words, knowing it was Gia. But, you felt Jake saying it. Even if she was the one saying the words, you wanted him to help guide you, too. Your mind was a funny place. 

His voice kept soothing you, “Think of the box and open it. Open it and place the memory you stepped into today inside of it. Secure that memory inside of the box.”

So, with one fleeting glance at the disgusting past you’d had to re-experience today, you mentally opened the lid to the box. And, as the lid opened, you let the people and the stingy place flow quickly into the sturdy wooden structure of the box. 

You could have spit on the people and the place and the smells. . . Fuck it all. 

The sureness of the box truly calmed you as the last little bit of the memory faded into the box. 

“Tuck it away in your box. Just keep it there until you’re ready to revisit it again. . .,” Gia counseled, her words yet again came through as if Jake were saying them. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, lips near to your ear. “You have control of it, y/n.”

Once you knew it was all inside, you let the lid click shut. The little pieces of lavender you imagined to be skillfully painted atop the box assured you that it would all be over soon. 

Beep beep beep beep. The beeping again. Familiar. You’d heard it momentarily at the disgusting, decrepit house. What was it?

“Y/n,” you heard Gia again, her words no longer masked by Jake’s voice. “Are you ready to come back to the office?”

As much as you wanted to never leave the man who still held you, you knew that the sooner you left the safe place, the sooner you could actually see him. He was waiting for you. In the lobby. In the present. 

“Yeah,” you sighed with a sniffle, most of your tears dry after the safety you’d felt in the field of lavender. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“I’m right here with you,” Gia assured you, her voice the closest it had been since initially closing your eyes. 

You closed your eyes once more, your body feeling lighter. Letting yourself sink into real time, you felt the soft, camel leather of the couch under you, around you. Then came the smell of Gia’s essential oils, filtering in through your senses. Things were okay. 

When your eyes cracked open, so tentative and slow, Gia was ready and waiting with open eyes. 

But the beeping. . . It was still happening — it was incessant. And it was fully apparent now that the sound was coming from your belt bag, hanging on Gia’s office door handle. 

Your heart monitor. 

Shit.

“How long has that been going off?” You blanched, eyes bugged as you got off the couch to grab your bag from the handle. Though, your legs were weaker than you expected, body worn down. It forced you to sit back down to gain your wherewithal.

Noticing this, Gia stuck a hand out to get you to pause from trying again. “I will grab the bag,” she soothed. “You stay there. Give yourself time to adjust to the present time. You’ve been through it, babe.”

All you could do was nod and swallow thickly, your heart no longer beating hard enough to make the phone go off. But apparently it had accelerated at some point. . . 

And then you remembered. 

Mr. Morgan. He’d made your heart rate go ballistic. 

When he’d approached, commanded you to open your eyes, and almost called you that horrible name. . . it had gone insane. 

Your chest had been in so much pain, and you could remember hearing the incessant beeping, now. . .

“Fuck, Gia,” you combed a hand through your hair. “My heart . . . I remember. . . my chest was hurting like a bitch.”

Gia inhaled deeply. “Yeah. . . You know, how about I hold the phone that tracks it from here on out? To keep an eye on your heart rate?” She suggested, raising a brow as she walked back to you with the belt bag. Raising a brow, she eyed you as she got close enough to hand your belongings over to you. “We need to be aware of your health and the baby’s first and foremost, before anything else.”

You swallowed with a slight nod, not wanting to see where your heart had skyrocketed to. But you knew you had to see it. So, you unzipped your bag and shakily got your monitor phone out.

When you slid the screen open to check, your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes at the very large number, flashing at you in red. 

Shit. 185. What the fuck?

That could have gotten really bad, really fast if Gia hadn’t stopped you when she did.

“So. . . What had it gotten to?” Gia questioned carefully, wide eyes serious and ready to help. 

You observed her for a second, not wanting to divulge just how high it had gotten for one reason in specific. . . The fear that Gia would make you stop EMDR if she knew just how high it had gotten — that possibility kept your lips sealed.

“Girly, I really feel it’s incredibly important that we keep track of that. I didn’t want to be invasive while you were under, but I heard it and I knew what it was. . .,” Gia tried to counsel you, taking your skeptical gaze as you finding her invasive. “I really didn’t like not knowing what your heart rate was. It’s best we stay aware of that. We have to be so careful of that, girly.”

You wanted to tell her. Duh. Why wouldn’t you want to? You told her everything else. . . The possibility of not being able to—.

“We will still continue our EMDR, y/n,” Gia grinned warmly with a wink. “I know that’s what you’re worried about. . .”

Your mouth puckered, as you took in a deep breath, gawking at the tall blonde across from you. 

You couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that spurted from your lips, in spite of your worried thoughts. You were in awe of your therapist’s intuition. “How did you know?” You questioned, already mostly knowing the answer.

The answer was: people in this profession were really very incredible. . . And Gia — she, in particular, was so empathetic and so aware of everything that mattered to you. . .

“It’s my job to tune in to that shit,” she grinned, sitting back in her rolling chair, one leg crossed over the other. 

After sharing a smirk with her, you decided you might as well tell her. You were nearing the end of your time, and you assumed she still wanted to be filled in on what had happened during your time under. 

“My BPM was. . . in the 180s,” you divulged, wary of her reaction. “That’s um—that’s really high,” you tagged on to the end, blowing out a breath, still shocked at the number yourself.

“Ho-ly fuck,” Gia stated, eyes wide and mouth in a straight line as she shook her head. “No shit that’s high.”

“We’ll figure it out?” you stated the question, hoping it would be ammunition for Gia to agree. 

“Of course,” she nodded adamantly. Sitting up in her chair, she leaned forward. Her elbows, on the ends of her thighs, near her knee caps. “When do you turn it in? How long do we have with it?”

“I turn it in next week,” you answered, curious where she was going. “Hopefully I’ll get some results and sure answers. . .” Trailing off, you decided to shut up so she could get to her point. 

“Well. . .,” she started, rubbing her palms together, eyes glancing down and back to you, “Would you be opposed to me attaching another monitor to you during our sessions? After that one is turned in?”

“That’s a great plan,” you answered, nodding with pursed lips. “Sounds safe.” Though, you paused. One more question. “And you’ll keep watch of it next time?”

“If that’s what you want from me, I’d love to be able to help you in that way,” she answered with a reassuring sureness in her tone. 

“I do want that,” you replied with a sheepish grin. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, girly,” Gia smiled, lopsided and full of ease. “We’ll make sure to get you through this therapy the safest we possibly can. Gotta protect you and that baby.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

After filling her in on everything from your EMDR vision, she’d given you a few more pieces of therapeutic wisdom and advice. Little things to follow if the memories came back with a vengeance. 

But, you’d gone more than five minutes over your session’s time at that point, pushing her other appointment back. 

So, you didn’t get long before the two of you had to bustle out. You’d been about eight minutes past session end time when you officially exited the small room, the session having just ended. 

A long fucking session.

Your body was extremely weighed down by fatigue and exhaustion. So, when you finally connected with Jake, you sunk happily into his warm, safe embrace. 

It seemed walking directly into Jake’s arms was exactly what your body longed for after leaving Gia’s office. You’d had little to no choice in where your body had guided you.

He had already been standing, waiting for you. His amber-brown eyes, wide open and full of readiness to help you. He’d seemed anxious to see you. You could tell as much by the tapping of his foot, the way he’d been worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the wrinkle of his brows. . .

So, of course, as soon as you approached, his arms had widened to welcome you in. 

Surprisingly, you hadn’t cried when you met his arms. . . Honestly, it was probably because you’d exhausted your tear ducts during your session. And all that you felt now was pure numbness. You didn’t know how to feel – just knew that you were tired and needed someone to be close to.

And Jake was the person you wanted most. 

Once safe in his embrace, you didn’t have the mental energy to even think about how it would look to Gia – but you knew she’d understand. 

You felt Gia come up behind you, even halfway heard her introducing herself to Jake. 

And even though you were out of it, you still heard Jake respond kindly, hearing the smile in his voice. When he moved his hand to shake hers, you didn’t turn around, just kept your face tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms still tightly hugging you to him. The pressure was really nice – it really calmed you down to feel so secure with him. 

It felt like the field of lavender, but this was really real – and that made it inexplicably better. 

Thankfully since you’d quickly scheduled the next session in Gia’s office, you didn’t have to wait much longer to head home. You didn’t want to leave his embrace, but you ended up turning out of Jake’s arms to tell Gia goodbye. 

When you reached forward to give her a hug, she whispered calmly in your ear. “You’re safe. Everything is okay in the here and now. I’m proud of you, y/n. You are already making great strides.”

After telling her a quiet ‘thank you’, you turned to Jake. 

“I’m ready when you are,” he assured you, lips turned up in an easy grin. His eyes were soft in a way that showed you he really was ready to be whatever you needed him to be. 

You didn’t need to be told again. You were ready for food and sleep. So, after the two of you waved to Gia over your shoulders,  Jake let you lead him out, opening the door for you from behind. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you snapped out of your daze and found a bit of energy, you decided to divulge to Jake just how high your heart rate had gotten during the session.

You had expected him to be a little worried on your behalf, but he’d gotten. . . really, really worried. You’d go so far as to call it a minor anxiety attack. 

His eyes had bugged, face had paled, and his breathing had gotten choppy. . . All signs of some serious anxiety on his end. 

His care for the situation was apparent, that much was for certain. He’d babbled in a rush of words – voiced a lot of concern on your behalf and the baby’s. . . Well, that was what you could catch in his raspy, frenzied tone. You’d missed a few things as he’d rushed the words out.

It was really sweet how much he cared. You had to work to keep the tiny grin off your face in response to his obviously sincere regard for your health (and the baby’s). You’d kept your quiet smile at bay the best you could and calmly reassured him that you were wearing a heart monitor for a reason – so the doctors could track those weird things and get down to the root of why your heart sucked ass at times. 

You’d explained that medical professionals had started dealing with it the night at the emergency room and would continue once your monitor got sent in within the next couple of weeks.

“I know today’s already been a lot, but do you have it in you to explain more about that night?” Jake asked, his breathing evening out as he rounded the curb, out of the office parking lot. “The night you went to the emergency room?”

“Yeah, totally,” you readily agreed, jumping at the opportunity to not think about the muddled images still flashing in your mind from your session. “Where do you want me to start?” You wondered aloud, peeking at him as you picked with a loose string on the seam of your leggings.

He cleared his throat in the way that indicated he was a little nervous. “What triggered it, exactly? Had you been okay at the bar that night? Was it because of something that had happened there?”

“It wasn’t really because of anything that happened at the bar, no,” you shook your head, looking down at the string you were pulling at, giving it a good yank to do away with it. “And I was kind of okay that night. . . Same as I’d been every other day around the time,” you laughed humorlessly, not missing those days at all. 

But, you couldn’t help reflecting on the events at the bar. . . since he'd brought it up. That night, just thinking of it still gave you butterflies. . . The way he’d feasted his eyes on you as your song played. . .

Stay focused, y/n.

“Um— during those earlier days, I’d had several days where I’d been really fuckin’ dizzy. . . could hardly eat most days, always nauseous and puking. . .,” you crinkled your nose at the thought, shivering at the memories. 

After getting over the thought of the constant vomiting, you stopped your train of thought to consider the fainting. All of the factors. You were not sure what to blame in particular. Though, you remembered Dr. Stevens’ opinion. 

“Honestly, more than one factor triggered it. . . but. . .,” you drew in a breath, pinching your eyes shut at the worst part of the night. “I actually blacked out and fucking fainted,” you cracked one eye open to look over at him to gauge his reaction.

“You blacked— you what?!” His voice rose a little bit at the idea, the car swerving the slightest bit when he glanced at you.

“Focus on the road!” You shook your head, eyes now opened wide at his swerve. However, you did find his reaction a bit funny. “I’m fine now, Jake,” you reassured, reaching over to give his arm one squeeze. 

But quickly, you placed your hand back in your lap to avoid any sort of awkwardness. 

You offered him a smile as your hand moved, looking up at him from your twitching thumbs, just as he glanced down at you. 

His eyebrows were still knit with worry when he faced the road again. “You’re sure?”

“Mostly,” you answered, thinking of the heart monitor’s job, peering down briefly to where it stayed on your chest. “They’re tracking my heart rate to make totally sure. And I’ve even kept an eye on my hemoglobin — which is doing much better, too. Not that you care about that part—.”

“I care about it all,” Jake interrupted, his tone insistent enough to make you pause and look over at him. 

Let him care, y/n. He wants to. . . Don’t tell him what he cares about and what he doesn’t. . .

From under your lashes, you studied him. You were glad he was now stopped at a light, giving you a little time to share a look with him. His eyes were full of warmth. . . The deep brown of his irises, capturing you. His eyes held yours so tenderly, desperate for you to understand he meant what he said.

And you did understand. You understood that he truly cared for you. . . and that his patience for you was incredible. You just felt completely undeserving of the amount of chances he’d given you after you’d hurt him so badly. 

The look in his eyes had you trapped, completely enamored by all of him. . . Your heart beat was pulsing in your ears, helping you to feel light as a feather under his stare. 

But, when a car honked to let you both know the light had turned green, it jolted you both, effectively tearing your focus from the other. He was driving again and you were back to looking through the windshield to continue your story. 

You cleared your throat to break up the air.

“We um— we checked all the boxes, you could say. The doctor was sure to put measures in place to keep an eye on all of the things that could have been a major issue to trigger that,” you spoke confidently, to give him affirmation that things were okay. “So, yes, I’m sure I’m fine now and I’m going to be fine in the future.”

Out of selfish desire, you let your line of sight float back to him. Yet again. It was just so easy to sit and admire his natural beauty. . .

Jake sucked in a breath, so deep from his chest. You could tell he was considering your words, one brow still arched in contemplation. 

“Okay,” he sighed his response, relief evident in his looser posture. He eased up his grip on the wheel, leaning back in the seat. You tried not to watch the way his jeans stretched over his lap. “So,” he started, “is there anything else you found out that night? A big, prevailing reason you quite literally blacked out?”

“The doctor I spoke to thinks it’s because of this underlying condition I most likely have — called POTS.”

“POTS?” He asked, his tone curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day. 

“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”

You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day. 

The car stayed silent for a few beats. 

Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.

“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful. 

He seemed to be contemplating it all.

He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.” 

Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . . 

Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought. 

“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”

“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”

“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion. 

You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.

The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end. 

It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth. 

It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.

That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo. 

But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . . 

God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .

Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .

The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight. 

As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.

And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . . 

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories. 

Now was not the time. 

To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .

“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”

“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit. 

Music. You needed music. 

You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”

“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”

At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.

“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’.  I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.” 

Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . . 

You were just hormonal and emotional. 

You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”

Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you. 

But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .

It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.

But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . . 

You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!

This was going to drive you fucking nuts. 

So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment. 

The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses. 

And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.

Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?

'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true

You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . . 

Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .

And I'm sorry for it 

I'm emotional 

This is your fault 

Please listen when I say 

I care about you

You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .

But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him. 

And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours. 

You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.) 

The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.

Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest. 

This moment. . .

His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.

I was in the moment

I ain't really mean what I said to you

So put away your pride, baby

We can work it out if you want this, too

You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.

But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw. 

The OB office. 

Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .

The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?

You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him. 

“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could. 

“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.

“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.

“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark. 

Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely. 

Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right? 

“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason. 

Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”

Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”

Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”

Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further. 

You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?” 

“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.

“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”

You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked. 

“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.

“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”

“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear. 

She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.” 

Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek. 

Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body. 

But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in. 

Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.

“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”

“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her. 

This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful. 

She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.

“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now. 

“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”

Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud. 

“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”

“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”

“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”

“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”

“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips. 

“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”

You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy. 

“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.

“And he will be comin’?”

“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.

“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone. 

And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest. 

“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat. 

After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling. 

But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .

Or maybe you were just really, really tired.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex. 

You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.

If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you. 

You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.

You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night. 

“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”

It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space. 

Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him. 

The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip. 

And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . . 

You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . . 

But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.

“Hey.” 

Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.

Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features. 

For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it. 

Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.

“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak. 

“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”

And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . . 

“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”

“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way. 

Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment. 

You needed fucking sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed. 

Finally.

Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long. 

At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you. 

He hadn’t left you yet.

Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home. 

And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped. 

After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day. 

The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR. 

To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent. 

That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . . 

Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped. 

The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet. 

But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh. 

Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed. 

But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature. 

The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . . 

You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.

What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.

She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair. 

The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . . 

You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.

It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind. 

You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist. 

The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . . 

And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black. 

Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen. 

One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.  

“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”

She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times. 

So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake. 

Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there. 

You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify. 

And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go. 

This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so. 

It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.

Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest. 

No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. 

Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . . 

Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.

Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole. 

When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks. 

He’d changed clothes after dropping you off. 

Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . . 

He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.

And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him. 

Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?” 

A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal. 

Pleasant surprise. 

Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass. 

Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare. 

When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . . 

His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.

No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it. 

So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation. 

His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips. 

Fuck.

“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.

Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left. 

“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys. 

“Yes.”

“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions. 

“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.

“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay. 

For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door. 

Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused. 

Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.

He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you. 

Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?” 

You didn’t say that last word. Nope. 

“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words. 

A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit? 

“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again. 

“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”

Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally. 

But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace. 

It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away. 

Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug. 

Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . . 

Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard. 

He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated. 

And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways. 

When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could. 

He wouldn’t remember it anyway.

When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct. 

You wrapped your arms around his midsection. 

It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.

Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.

You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom. 

While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .

But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him. 

Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame. 

Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go. 

Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 

He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago. 

So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you. 

“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man. 

Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”

His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it. 

“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off. 

It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.

He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.

But. . . drunk words are honest –.

“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.

You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him. 

When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck. 

“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them. 

Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light. 

You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal. 

“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.

When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked. 

“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.

And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep. 

You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way. 

The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out. 

You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.

It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right? 

So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare. 

But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . . 

His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.

He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell? 

When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . . 

A secret not even for Jake to know.

Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you. 

His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week. 

He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . . 

So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment. 

Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”

“What was your question?” 

When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . . 

Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.

“It was noth–.”

“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”

“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”

“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”

God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him. 

Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him. 

His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.

You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at. 

And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks. 

But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.

You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.

Diversion. 

“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass. 

You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt. 

Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy. 

His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face. 

You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.

“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”

Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes. 

“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name. 

But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him. 

In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own. 

And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake. 

He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer. 

Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes. 

The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . . 

For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy. 

Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear. 

Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.

And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore. 

The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone. 

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow. 

You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. 

And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. 

“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 

You thought a moment before you answered. 

With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. 

As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. 

There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. 

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.

“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near. 

The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts. 

“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”

“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns. 

His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him. 

Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time. 

And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged. 

Stars. You saw so many stars. 

“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now. 

All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.

You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?”  He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”

The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word. 

Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you. 

He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body. 

You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck. 

No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have. 

“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”

“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.) 

And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer. 

“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself. 

And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him. 

He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind. 

“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state. 

“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”

“You sure?”

“More than.” 

Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell. 

You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit. 

You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food. 

But he was right there. . . 

No. 

You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes. 

Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”

“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”

“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”

“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”

“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door. 

Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit. 

You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder. 

The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.  

He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

About forty-five minutes passed. 

You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious. 

Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.

You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.

Jake. 

“Will you come sleep with me?”

You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.

“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.

But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.

When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.  

Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system. 

Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .

. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones. 

The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .

“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked. 

His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.

Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice. 

“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle. 

“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”

“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck. 

Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell? 

God. . .

Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all. 

But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?

Shit.

You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake. 

“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”

“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it. 

 You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again. 

“Want me to wash it?”

“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”

“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal. 

And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room. 

Well. 

Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated. 

You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk. 

He definitely wasn’t.

Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined? 

After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you. 

Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.

Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . . 

Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle. 

It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling. 

Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy. 

The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .

Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly. 

Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell. 

After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it. 

And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight. 

You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby. 

That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why did you come home?”

You were laying in his bed. Just like old times. 

Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight. 

Everything else though? Same as always.

Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.

Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him. 

It was heaven. That was what it was. 

A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.

Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair.  “I don’t like being away from you.”

Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.

“Was Maya mad?”

“Yeah.”

“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.

“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”

“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence. 

But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to. 

You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago. 

Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.

“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”

The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . . 

Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. 

“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.

You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible. 

“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss. 

And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring. 

It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night. 

. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 16, 2022 

As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday. 

“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic. 

Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”

He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. 

“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid. 

“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”

You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.

He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.” 

He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands. 

“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”

“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.

Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips. 

“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”

Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?

You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room. 

He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing. 

You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day. 

You, speaking of love. 

Jake, mentioning multiple kids. 

You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.

You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”

He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you. 

“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”

Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean? 

“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though. 

“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words. 

“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”

The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen. 

And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it. 

Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so. 

The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment. 

You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . . 

The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement. 

Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.

Here we go. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3

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Anything for You - Pt 0.5

daemon x daughter!reader 

Previous Parts

*i wrote and posted this after pt4 btw bc Part 1 was supposed to be a one shot*

Summary: Daemon returns home from the war in the Stepstones after years and when you both see each other it feels as if everything shifts. Upon seeing you again Daemon knows he has to have you regardless of the consequences. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, wine, fingering, face riding, oral(f), loss of virginity, p in v, masturbation(m), two daemon PoVs

Authors Note: i did steal a scene from season one bc i wanted to and that’s ok 🙂‍↕️ wioumcysicha - gnawing at the bars of my enclosure fr 

Word Count: 6k sry

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Two years ago

My hands shake as I read his half scribbled words across the parchment. Tears pour down my face as I read it over and over. I send all of my handmaidens out and curl up in my bed letting the sobs tear through my body. I wipe my eyes to read it one last time before crumpling it up and tossing it across my chambers. 

Daughter- 

I'm sorry I didn’t tell you that I was leaving in person. I couldn’t bear to see the look on your face, sweet girl. I’ll come home to you as soon as I am able. 

-Father

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Two moons before Part 1

My handmaidens fret about my chambers offering me new dresses and necklaces to all I shake my head. My doors are thrown open as more come in with different wines and sweets and I get up and lay across my chaise on the balcony. There is only one thing, one person that could truly make me feel better: my father. 

He left me that night two years ago now and hasn’t returned since. There has been such an emptiness inside of me since then. The Red Keep is crawling with whispers and rumors of different fates that have befallen the rogue Prince but I know in my heart that he will return to me. I’ve been lonely the past two years and the King has tried everything to get me to agree to a marriage I have no interest in. 

My handmaidens whisper about eligible Lords who are visiting and known to be very generous. I’ve shared a meal with a handful of them but none of them could offer me what I truly desired or needed. I’m not deaf to the whispers around the Keep that surround me that call me a ghost ever since my father went to war. 

In the fortnight following my nineteenth name day I have begun to truly believe what they say. I have no interest in anything besides laying on my chaise or taking baths. I call my handmaidens over to prepare me a bath as I slowly begin to rise. I stretch out and look across the Bay and my heart stops when I see a streak of red. 

It cannot be. I shake my head and run over to the railing. The piercing song I remember travels through my chambers and I drop everything and sprint down the hall. My guard chases after me as I make my way to the main hall. I wait at the bottom of the stairs and stare at the doors, not daring to wait outside. I pick at my nails and focus on trying to calm my breathing. 

“Princess, could I escort you back to your chambers?” my guard looks down at me concerned. 

“No.” I don’t even deign to look at him. I keep my focus ahead as the minutes drag by. Servants pass by and avoid contact with me as I take a seat on the bottom step. I rest my head in my hands as I continue to wait for the door. My guard shifts uncomfortably next to me and I roll my eyes as I begin to grow impatient. 

“Princess, it’s been well over an hour. Do-“ 

“No,” I snap, rising from the stairs. “I’m waiting for-“ the doors push open and I turn as the breath is taken from my lungs. I notice his short silver hair first. I take a deep breath and run over to him as the tears start to fall down my face. “Daddy?” I sob and he opens his arms and picks me up. I wrap my body around him holding him tightly as I cry into his neck. 

The metal of his armor bites into me but I have no care as I hold onto him tighter. I press my lips against his neck as I burrow in closer to him and his arms constrict around me. He slowly sets me back on the ground and I look up at him with watery eyes. 

“My sweet girl.” his eyes look me over. 

“Don’t leave me again.” my lip wobbles and I wrap my arms around him in another hug. 

“I promise that I won’t.” he whispers into my hair. “Come with me, sweet girl.” he threads his fingers into mine. “I have to go see the King.” he starts to lead me in the direction of the throne room. 

I continue to look up at him as we walk and I can see the smirk painted across his face. I look up at his short hair with a makeshift crown sitting atop his brow. He looks down at me before pulling me closer and I splay my other hand on the metal covering his torso. I look up at him with such an intense need that a whine slips from my lips. 

“Daddy.” I breathe out clinging to him. 

“We’ll have time later.” he presses his lips against my forehead before ushering us into the throne room. 

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After an hour long talk with the King, my father and I are finally leaving the hall. His hand has stayed molded to mine since we clasped them together. As we walk up the stairs I call my handmaidens to prepare a bath in my chambers. My father and I sit on my couches staring at each other while my handmaidens prepare everything. After they’ve placed everything out I dismiss them and my father looks at me with a raised brow. 

“What happened to your hair?” I purse my lips walking over to him. 

“Do you not like it?” he looks up at me with a smile. His hands grab my waist and pull me between his thighs. 

“I do. It’s just different.” I lean over him and run my fingers through his short locks. His fingers dig into my waist as he pulls me onto his lap. A shiver tracks through me as his armor presses against me.

“You look different, sweet girl.” he cups my face. “A woman now.” his hands slide up my sides and my breath catches. 

“Let me bathe you.” I hum. “I’m sure it’s been moons since you’ve had a proper bath.” I raise my brow and he smiles. 

“Are you trying to say something?” he chuckles, raising a brow.

“I missed you. I want to make sure you’re okay. Check you for wounds. Scars.” he squints his eyes at me before lifting me off his lap. He stands up and presses his lips to my forehead. 

“I will come find you later.” he nods before slipping out of my chambers leaving me there feeling more lost and alone than ever. 

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Daemons PoV

He had to get out of her chambers and quickly. The way her body pressed so perfectly to his had him thanking his armor for hiding his hard cock. Gods and she wanted to bath him. This is the first non selfish decision that he has made in ages. He felt a strange feeling when she frowned so deeply when he declined her offer. 

His sweet girl's face deflated and he watched her round violet eyes begin to water. He didn’t intend to cause her so much upsetness; he just needed to clear his mind and think. Upon entering his chambers he’s bombarded with servants buzzing around and bringing in clothes and candles. 

“Out.” he holds the door wide for them and they all begin to filter out. 

He clicks the door shut behind him and begins to remove his armor. Once all of the metal is littered across the floor he goes over to his bed and collapses. He inhales deeply and groans. He has to be going mad or his want is taking over his senses but he can smell her on his sheets. He thinks about her sneaking through the tunnels to curl in his bed over the years and his cock stirs again. 

He can’t take it anymore and shoves his hand into his trousers. He groans as his fingers wrap around his shaft and he thinks about her tossing and turning in his bed. The sweet little pout on her lips that he wants to rub his tip over. His thumb swipes over his tip as it begins to leak and he jerks up into his tightening palm. He turns his head to the side and he gets another smell of her sweetness and a low groan slips past his lips. His mind conjures a picture of her squirming beneath him begging for him and his pleasure bursts across his hand. 

He sighs, pulling his hand out of his trousers feeling like a young boy who just saw his first low cut gown. He walks to his bath chambers and looks at himself in the mirror before cleaning up and changing. He walks back out to sit in front of his hearth and he rests his head in his hands. 

He wants her so badly. He thought he would have more clarity after taking care of himself but it’s only made his desire stronger. He hopes that a night on the street of silk will fix his problem and if it won’t he’ll make her his. 

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Your PoV

It’s been three days since my father left my chambers and I’ve only seen him in passing in the halls. He hasn’t come to see me or share any meals with me. My handmaidens look over me worriedly as I continue to decline their efforts. They prepare me for bed and I pout under the covers as they begin to blow out the candles. Once they leave me for the night I stare at the ceiling waiting for sleep to take over. 

I groan as I continue to toss and turn, not comfortable or warm enough to find sleep. I wrap the blankets around me tighter and whine before pushing them off and getting up. I grab one of my candles and light it before walking over to the door hidden next to my bed. 

I was always thankful that my father showed me these tunnels before he went off to war. On particularly bad nights I would sneak through them and curl up in his bed as the sobs tore through my body. Tonight I’m hoping to be engulfed in his embrace. As I push open the hidden door to his chambers I frown, finding it empty. 

I blow out my candle as I make my way deeper into his chambers. I see that the bed is still made as I make my way over to it and begin to pull back the blankets. I slide beneath the covers and inhale deeply smiling that it smells like him once more. I hug a pillow against my chest and finally my eyes are heavy enough to shut. 

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I whine as I feel the cool breeze skirting across my skin. I reach blindly for the blanket and turn over on my back to try and find it with my other hand. I gasp, opening my eyes as I feel fingers trailing up my legs. I blink them a couple times so they can adjust to the dark chambers and look up and see my father looking down at me. I look down and notice I shifted my night dress up in an attempt to find the blankets. I pull at the hem and my father lets out a low chuckle. 

“What are you doing in here, sweet girl?” his voice like gravel. 

“I wanted to be held by you.” I look over his flushed face and smell the ale on his clothes. 

“So you come lay in my bed and wait for me in this little dress?” his fingers skim just beneath the edge of my night dress. I nod my head and look up at him. “You should be in your own chambers.” he shakes his head and sits at the end of the bed. 

“Why?” my voice a whisper. 

“It’s hard for me to control myself around you.” he looks at me over his shoulder. 

“What do you mean?” I sit up and drape myself across his back. 

“I want to ruin that sweet little cunt between your legs.” he turns around and pushes me back onto the bed. I look up at him with a heaving chest and flushed cheeks. “Gods, look at you.” his fingers brush over my hardened nipples and I gasp, biting my lip. 

“Please,” my voice broken and he removes his hands. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “I’m taking you back to your chambers.” I push my bottom lip out at his words and he scoops me up from the bed and tosses me over his shoulder. 

His hands rest on the back of my thighs as he brings us into the tunnels. He walks back to my chambers on steady feet and when we enter them he walks over to my bed and tosses me down. He watches as I bounce back and my dress slides scandalously up my thighs before shaking his head. 

“Go to bed, sweet girl.” he pulls my blankets over me and presses his lips to my scrunched brow. 

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Daemons PoV

After he brought her back to her chambers he sealed himself in his chambers and stroked himself until he was spent. The little sounds she made when he brushed over her nipples had him almost bursting in his trousers. The intense want and need in her eyes was all he needed to know that she felt the same way. He made his decision and went to bed knowing he would get what he wanted on the morrow regardless of the consequences. 

He wakes early and dresses himself to meet the King in the throne room. The traditions of his family are strange to others but he’s hoping that if anyone will understand it’ll be the King. He ignores everyone because his mind is set and he’s ready to get what he wants. He pushes open the doors to the throne room and finds it empty. He looks up the jagged steps and turns as the doors open again. The King walks in and looks at him curiously. 

“What is it?” the King sighs, approaching Daemon. 

“Brother, I have something to ask of you.” he searches the King's eyes. 

“Calling me brother? You must be truly desperate.” the King's eyes crinkles as he smiles. 

“When I offered up my crown you said I could have anything.” the King's amusement begins to fade. “I want my daughter.” Daemon nods his head. 

“What do you mean?” the King shakes his head. 

“Wed her to me.” Daemon feels his heart beating faster and he doesn’t care if his brother says no or not. He plans to claim her tonight and nothing is changing that. 

“No.” the King scoffs. “Daemon, there are plenty of other women for you to choose from.” Daemon lets out a chuckle. 

“They’re not good enough.” he waves his brother off. 

“I wonder if anyone will ever be good enough for you.” the King shakes his head.

“She is.” Daemon looks to his brother. 

“I’ll hear no more of this.” the King brushes past Daemon and begins to ascend the stairs and take his seat upon the throne.

“I will have her.” he points at the King before leaving the throne room. 

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Your Pov

I flare my nostrils as I’m jostled once again through the covered carriage that’s pulling me through the city. I push the linen back and look out the small window at the stands and life going on. We hit another hole and my head hits the wooden frame. My handmaiden flies across the carriage to me and cups my head. I roll my eyes and have her take her seat once more. 

A small smile starts to form on my lips as we pass through the gates to Rhaenys’s Hill. The carriage makes its way up and comes to a slow stop in front of the Dragonpit. I smooth my skirts as I step out of the carriage and onto the ground. I hear Caraxes' song and pray that he remembers who I am. I walk through the doors with my head held high before my feet falter as I see my father in his riding gear. 

“What are you doing here, sweet girl?” he tilts his head walking over to me. 

“I wanted to see Caraxes.” I chew my lip looking up at him. 

“By yourself?” he raises his brow. 

“You don’t want to see me.” my lip wobbles and I clench my fists to steel myself. 

“Who said that?” he cups my cheeks and I huff as a tear spills over the edge. 

“You don’t come and see me. You’ve been pushing me away. I’m so alone.” my voice cracks and I frown at how I sound. “I don’t know what I did.” I sniffle and he pulls me against his chest. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” he mumbles against my hair. His arms pull me tighter and I begin to settle. He pulls back cradling my head in his hands as he dips down. “Do you want to fly with me?” I search his eyes. 

“Really?” I start to smile as he brushes away my tears. 

“Come, we’ll find you a change of clothes.” he pulls me away from my handmaiden and rustles through some closets and finds me better attire. 

“Can you untie my gown?” I blink up at him. His eyes darken as he slowly turns me around. He pulls on the laces slowly while his other hand brushes the hair cascading down my back. Once loosened enough it starts to slip down my shoulders. “Thank you,” I hum, turning back to him. 

“Of course.” he nods his head. He turns and I push my gown off and begin to pull on the trousers and jerkin. He turns back to me and smiles. “I’ll have to get you your own riding gear made.” he chuckles, tightening the belt around the jerkin. 

“I would like that.” I offer him a shy smile. He grabs my hand and leads me down into the pits. Soft grumbles and songs come from deep within the earth as we continue our way to Caraxes. He slows our pace as we step into an opening with a curled Caraxes within. “Just as handsome as I remember.” I hum and his eyes blink open. 

Caraxes uncurls and pushes his snout forward into my father before pushing into me. A smile spreads across my face and my fathers arms wrap around me. He walks me over to Caraxes side and helps me start climbing up. He helps me take a seat in front of him and he holds me against his chest. 

“Are you ready, princess?” he whispers in my ear and I nod quickly. “Fly, Caraxes.” his dragon begins to move us out of the pits before climbing us into the sky. 

With every wing beat my heart jumps and my hands cling onto my fathers arms. As Caraxes levels out on the breeze I slowly relax. I close my eyes as I feel the familiar bite of the wind as Caraxes dips to circle the city. My father has him bring us over to the KingsWood. We land in an open field and we begin to slide off. My father cups my face once we make it to solid ground. 

“You have become so very beautiful in the past couple years.” he brushes his fingers across my cheek. 

“Thank you.” I look up at him chewing my lip. His thumb pulls my lip from between my teeth and I feel my cheeks flush. His thumb continues to ghost across my lips and I look up to him breathing heavily. He steps back and studies me. 

“Are there any young men who have caught your eye?” a smirk forms on his lips. 

“No.” I shake my head. “The King has expressed his wish for me to marry but no one is good enough.” I scrunch my brows because there is one person who is. “I’ve shared some meals but nothing ever progressed after.” I bring my hands together and pick at my nails.

“No little late night rendezvous in your chambers?” my head snaps up to his as I feel my cheeks blush.

“No.” I shake my head quickly. “No one touches me besides my handmaidens.” I feel my heart beating quicker as he starts to approach. 

“Do they now?” he tilts his head. 

“No, not like that, like bathe me and dress me and,” I shake my head feeling my face heat even more. “No one has touched me.” I blink up to him not knowing what to say. 

“Not even yourself, sweet girl?” he smiles. 

“Daddy.” I pout, not wanting him to tease me any longer. 

“I asked the King if I could wed you today.” my breath catches at his change in tone and conversation. I search his eyes to make sure he’s not teasing still. 

“Did he say we could?” my voice filled with unabashed hope. 

“You want to wed me?” he steps closer to me. My heart beats faster as he pulls me against him. “Be my wife? Carry my children? Let me bury myself between these pretty thighs?” he tilts my head up to him. 

“Yes, please,” I wrap my hands around his arms. He dips down and presses his lips against mine. I melt into his arms and he lifts me up holding me against him. His tongue pushes into my mouth as I gasp when his fingers dig into my ass. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, sweet girl.” he mumbles. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.” he sets me back down on the ground and I pout looking up at him wanting to still be within his arms. 

“Can we wed?” I ask softly. 

“The King said no.” my smile drops. “But I don’t care. You’ll be mine.” he nods and my smile starts to return. 

We continue to stroll through the woods until the late afternoon. By the time we make it back to Caraxes the sun is starting to slip below the horizon as he carries us back to the pits. Once we land he takes me back to my gown and I quickly change. “Go back to the Keep with your handmaiden and I’ll come to your chambers later.” he kisses my brow and I smile up at him. 

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I allow my handmaidens to give me a bath to get the smell of dragon off of me. After I’m smoothed with oils and perfumes they pull my silk night dress over me. I dismiss them for the night and lay on my chaise near the hearth. I wish I knew when he was coming or if I should just sleep. I frown and make my way to my bed when the door to the tunnel opens. A smile spreads across my cheeks as my father shuts the door behind him. 

“Were you going to bed, sweet girl?” he saunters over to my bed. 

“I was going to lay down and wait for you.” I walk over to him. 

“In an even shorter dress than before?” he groans, resting his hands on my hips. He gently lays me back on the bed and looks down at me. “Gods, I just,” he shakes his head. “Can daddy touch you?” his eyes snap to mine as a whimper spills from my lips. 

“Please,” my voice barely a whisper. 

He starts to lift my night dress off and I squirm under his heated gaze. His eyes trail over every inch of skin that he exposes. I squeeze my thighs together as he lifts my dress higher. When he pulls it over my chest I feel my nipples harden from the cool air. I lift my arms and he smiles, slipping the dress the rest of the way off. 

“Good girl.” he hums, skating his fingers up my torso. His fingers roll one of my nipples and I gasp below him. He crawls over me on the bed and I sigh, engulfed by his warmth. He dips his head down and sucks my neglected nipple into his mouth and I squeak as his tongue flicks across it. 

“Daddy,” I cry out. “Please,” I whine and he teases the hardened bud with his teeth. He chuckles against my skin before kissing his way down my torso. I watch with a flushed face as he spreads my thighs and settles between them. He presses his lips on the insides of my thighs and I tremble. 

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he looks at me with dark eyes. 

“Yes,” I whine. My head falls back to the pillows as his tongue pushes through my slit. Soft moans fall from my lips as he softly kisses my bud. His tongue trails down to my core and my legs shake on either side of his head. He holds my legs open against the bed and starts to lick at me with more fervor. “Please, yes,” I cry out and I bury my fingers in his hair. My body goes taught as my pleasure slams through me. 

I look down at him and see him staring up at me already. Soft pleas pour from my mouth as he starts to lap at me slowly again. One of his hands move from my thigh and soon I feel one of his fingers start to press into my core. My fingers dig into his hair and he groans against me slowly pushing his finger into me. He slowly starts to move his finger and let my head fall back as I feel my pleasure building once more. 

A loud moan is pulled from my lips as he presses a second finger in. My hips roll against his face as my stomach starts to tighten. His fingers curl slightly and I pulse around his fingers lifting up off the bed. He licks me through my pleasure before sitting up and watching my squirming body. I sit up and press my lips against his. 

“Please daddy,” I whine, pulling at his trousers. He watches me with an amused expression as I start to pull on the laces. I try to push them down and he chuckles, grabbing my hands. He rises off the bed and watches me as he slowly peels off his clothes. I lick my lips as he bares himself to me. 

“Lay back.” he watches me lay back and he starts to spread my legs to settle between them. “Such a good girl for me.” I mewl as his length spreads through my wetness. “I may not be able to wed you right now, but I promise you that I will one day.” he presses his lips against mine as he slowly starts to push into me. 

Every inch pulls a moan from my lips as he splits me open. My nails dig into his back as he stops his moments. I squeeze my eyes shut adjusting to his fullness while he kisses softly at my neck. He rubs soothing circles into my hips and I slowly open my eyes looking at him. 

“I’m so full of you.” I pant and he groans resting his forehead on mine. 

“You feel so good. So warm and wrapped around me so tightly.” he slowly rocks his hips into mine. I whine at the friction as he continues to softly rock into me. “You like the way daddy feels?” he groans and I nod my head. He pulls out of me and pushes back into me quickly, stealing my breath. He does it again and I arch up into him. 

“Yes,” my voice breaks and he chuckles against my neck as he starts a steady pace. 

I wrap my legs around him as my high watches through me. He stills in me softly cursing while his fingers dig into my hips. He starts to pound his hips into mine and desperate whines fall from my lips. My chambers are filled with the sounds of our skin and my soft cries. His rhythm falters and he groans stilling inside of me. I gasp as I feel his warmth spill inside of me as he collapses on top of me. I hold him closer enjoying the weight and warmth of him. 

“You did so good.” he lifts up and presses his lips to mine as he pulls out. He rolls over and pulls me against his chest. “My sweet girl.” He hums, pressing his lips against my hair.  

“Will you stay with me?” I look up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Of course.” he wraps his arms around me. “Go to sleep.” I wrap my arms around his chest and close my eyes. 

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One moon before Part 1

I pour my father wine as he takes his seat around the council table. He looks up at me with a soft smile as I take my place next to him. The other members slowly trickle into the room and I step closer to my father. His hand rests on my lower back and he rises when the King enters. The King places a kiss on my cheek before he takes his seat. 

The meeting today seems to drone on forever and I begin to lean against my fathers chair. He starts to rub circles onto my back and I look out the windows allowing the boring meeting to fade away. I’m brought back to the present as chairs begin to scrape against the stone as the members start to leave the hall. The King looks to my father and sighs. 

“There are plenty of eligible Ladies for you to court.” he looks at my father with tired eyes. 

“They are all plain.” he chuckles looking at the King. “You know who I desire.” my fathers bold words cause my knees to weaken and I shift on my legs to keep me upright. 

“I’ve already told you no,” he scoffs, sitting back in his chair. “I tire of this and the ceaseless rumors.” he waves us off. 

I feel the tears well in my eyes. My father rises with a shake of his head and leads me out into the halls. I softly sniffle as I cling onto his arm and he tugs me into an alcove and looks down at me. His thumbs brush away my tears and he softly places his lips on mine and I gasp pulling back but he pulls me back against him. 

“Someone could see.” I whisper up to him. 

“Let them.” he kisses me once more. “Let them see that you’re mine and only mine.” he kisses down my neck and I cling onto his arms. “Daddy’s good girl.” he purrs into my ear. I whimper and squirm in his arms before he’s pulling me back up to my chambers. “I got you something.” he shuts the doors behind us. 

“What is it?” I turn to him with a smile. He walks over to the table and returns to me with a box. He opens it and shows me the most beautiful necklace that I’ve seen. The jewels inlaid have to be worth a kingdom at least. “This is..” I press my fingers against the chain and he pulls it out and turns me around. His fingers ghost across the nape of my neck as he brushes my hair away. He clasps the necklace around my neck and steps back. “How does it look?” I turn and look up at him.

“You look divine. Though I think a lower cut dress would show it off more.” he licks his lips. 

“Do you want to take this one off?” I tilt my head, nibbling my lip.

“I do.” he nods his head and steps over to me. His fingers start to pull at the laces on my back before pushing it down. He helps me step out of it and looks over my body left in my slip. “This too.” he pulls at the hem and I lift my hands as he pulls it over my head discarding it to the floor. “Like this,” he nods. “Perfect.” his hands press against my skin softly digging into me.

“Please,” I lean up to try and kiss him. He smiles before pressing his lips against mine. I hold him close as he slowly starts to walk us back to the bed. He pulls his lips out of my reach and I pout up at him. 

“Get on the bed.” he helps me crawl onto the bed and watches as the jewels move across my chest. He lays down on the bed next to me and grabs my hand tugging me over to him. “Sit on daddy’s face.” I look down at him with wide eyes. 

“What?” I scrunch my brows. I squeak as he pulls my thigh and lifts it over his head. I straddle his face and look down at his mischievous eyes. “I don’t- Daddy,” I whine as he trails his tongue up my slit. His hands grab at my waist and push me down on his tongue causing me to cry out. I look down and see him watching me as his tongue lashes against my bud. “Yes, yes,” I roll my hips against his mouth and he groans, lapping at me faster. 

My hands catch on the hardboard as I start to fall forward. My back arches as he starts to lick against me more wildly. One of his palms lands against my ass and I jerk forward on his tongue. I whimper out and I start to roll my hips chasing my pleasure. His other hand lands upon my other cheek and I whine leaning back into his hands. He removes both his hands only to have them both land on me at the same time. My pleasure tears through me as I shake against his face. 

His tongue pushes into my core and I try to lift off of him but his fingers dig into me holding me down. I cry and gasp above him as his tongue swirls around my bud and I feel my high start to ripple through me. His palm lands on my cheek and I feel more pleasure start to pour out of me. He lifts my hips up slowly kissing down my thighs before laying me back on the bed. 

“You were such a good girl for me.” he murmurs, kissing my neck before licking across my breasts. He laps against one of my sensitive peaks and I whimper threading my fingers in his hair. “You look so beautiful like this. Flushed with pleasure, chest heaving and covered in jewels and sweat.” he hums, kissing over to my other nipple. He teases the bud between his teeth before letting it go. “A vision.” he shakes his head watching my breathing start to settle. 

“Thank you.” I reach up for him. He lays down and pulls me against his chest and allows me to cling to him. 

“Of course, anything for you, sweet girl.” he presses his lips against my brow. 

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i’m currently writing the final rn 🥺 i’ll prob have it posted by sunday tbh buuut before then if you guys  have anything you want to see in the final lmk and i’ll see what i can do 😏🤭

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[hinamie]

who do u think is the most touch starved character in jjk

i feel so -- and i cannot stress this enough -- inCREDIBLY strongly about fushiguro touch starved megumi. he lives in my head . i am plagued by thoughts about him craving physical affection but never letting himself seek it out because it's easier to keep your walls up when you don't let anyone Close to you no matter how much you want the opposite . i think abt him striving to make himself as transient as his shadows him wanting to be something hard to touch and harder to hold onto. i think so much about him trying 2 overcome any desire fr Touch as a kid during his delinquent days and clinging to whatever pseudo-connection the satisfaction of fighting others offered him because yeah it might have hurt but at least he could Feel it ,, but also eventually the fighting not being enough it not being the contact he craves but by this point he's seen too much death around him to think it's worth it to hope fr anything else :(((

lord help me i think so goddamn MUCH!!!! abt touch starved megumi in itfs contexts !!!!!!!!!! i think abt yuuji kind of clocking that megumi avoids physical contact and doesn't like to let himself be touched and wanting 2 respect that but megumi BURNS . i think abt casual fleeting touches (usually initiated by yuuji, never lasting more than a few seconds) and the way they wld linger in megumi's mind long after the moment has passed i think about that being how yuuji burrows his way even deeper in2 megumi's heart until he Can't ignore how much he Wants . i think about tentative finger brushes on backs of hands and under jaws i think about tracing circles into palms god damn it megumi's technique is so HAND focused i think about yuuji kissing his palms and knuckles and guiding megumi's hands To Him and On Him and megumi just finally allowing himself to hold and be held and -

[xoxochb]

hi it’s been awhile fr, but i still love you work and i’m very sorry about what’s going on rn

but could i request a connor stoll fic? anything your heart desires, i just need a little serotonin, if not that’s cool too, thank you !!

⋆·˚ ༘ * sweet fantasy

warnings: I based this off of this post from pinterest because it’s so connor coded pairing: connor stoll x daughter of aphrodite a/n: this is short as hell I’m sorry angel 😭

a pink hue is sprawled over connor’s cheeks and his lovesick gaze is nothing but completely obvious to you. your fingers entwine in his dark curls, twirling and un-twirling them in a repeated pattern. he speaks about his day— scratch that, he rambles. connor loves to ramble but miscellaneous subjects whether it consists of his recent prank, something he stole, his day, or overheard drama. you listen attentively every time though. the attention you give towards him makes his stomach erupt in butterflies. he recalls -before your relationship began- telling travis about his wonders of being in love with the gorgeous daughter of aphrodite which resulted in relentless teasing

connor didn’t care. he was completely, hopelessly, undeniably enamored with you and that’s all he really cared about. he stole for you, if someone insulted you in any way they woke you up drenched in black paint, if you cried he wouldn’t leave your side until you were calm, or if you were happy he would show just as much enthusiasm even if he didn’t care for whatever you were excited about. his words trial off as his mind can’t seem to settle on his day, instead on the very girl who’s lap he’s laying on. his cheeks turn red. you laugh and kiss his left cheek, then the right

“are you okay?” you ask

connor frowns as he thought he caused you trouble. “I’m sorry, I got distracted”

you brush a stray hair from his eyes, planting a kiss to his forehead. “don’t be sorry, angel. tell me what you’re thinking”

“you”

a smile appears on your mouth

“elaborate?”

he shrugs. “everything about you, I guess”

“I’m flattered”

he takes your free hand and places it over his heart. “I love you”

“I love you too” you place a kiss to his lips this time “sweet boy”

[s-4pphics]

hi i’m ill and had a dream ab ellie in cat ears so i wrote it its torture fr LOOOOOL its something quick fr i just miss writing ab sex :( might make it a lil series but i dont have a title idk okie bye

based off this

wc;cw: 1.3k, subpetplayer!ellie, dom!oc, SMUT MDNI, head, squirting, dirty talk, ellies so fucking cute and in love, happy gay bitches ew🙄

“El?”

“Mhm?”

“… Wanna roleplay?”

Your girlfriend choked on her 7/11 slushee, sitting up from where you two were snuggled together on the couch while the TV played. Your hand clapped on her back, and she turned to face you, her cheeks already tinting a deep red.

“… Huh?”

She stared at you in shock, her wet lips agape and her eyes glimmering under the dim decorative lamp. A slimy grin crawled onto your face.

“Wanna roleplay?” You repeated, your voice lower.

Her shoulders rose up and down with each recovered breath, her eyes nervously flicking around the room.

“Like… like in GTA?”

You snorted and shook your head.

“I think you know what I mean.”

“No,” she squealed, “I don’t—“

“You’d make such a cute little kitty,” you cooed, your hand coming up to play with her earlobe. She shuddered and subtly leaned into your touch before her eyes doubled in size at your amused expression.

“Oh?”

“I-I’m—“

“What if I told you I made an impulsive purchase a couple weeks ago,” You smirked.

“No the fuck you didn’t—“

“I did. Amazon coupon,” you snickered.

“… I fucking hate you.”

You pinched the plush skin of her ear and she flinched.

“Cats don’t fucking talk.”

Her body shook when your hand squeezed her cheeks together, her lids fluttering when you leaned forward to peck her nose and warm cheeks. You gave her a peck on her lips before licking her bottom one, and she hummed softly, inching closer for another.

“You know what to do?”

She nodded so fast, her nose bumped yours.

“Go on then. Top drawer.”

She shook her head with a whine; She wanted another kiss. You dug your nails into her face and she moaned aloud.

“Do what I say.”

You released her and she rose to run down the hallway. You grinned and kicked your feet up on the coffee table, snagging a few more Lifesavers from the bag and shoved them in your mouth.

This was your favorite part of the movie; Edmond’s about to get kidnapped by the white witch!

Fifteen minutes passed when you finally entered your shared bedroom, and your heart pounded at the sight in front of you.

Ellie was on her knees in front of the bed, hands folded in her lap, only in her running shorts and the fluffy, pink and black kitty ears that were littered with bows and glitter, the crumpled Amazon package that it came in was tossed near the window.

Her back arched when she heard the door slammed behind you; You could almost envision her pretty ears flinching at the ruckus.

You circled her like a lioness, “Look at you. The prettiest.”

You took a seat in front of her and she sighed, staring past you and through the wall. Her hands squeezed together.

“You can look at me, hun.”

She relaxed at your comforting tone, finally meeting your eyes at your word.

“Kitty’s been so fucking good today,” you praised, “Did everything I asked. The best girl.”

You massaged her scalp and she nuzzled up into your touch, following your hand wherever it traveled on her head. Her eyes were pleading and watery — desperate. So trusting and ready to give you anything you desired.

“Think kitty deserves a treat. Is baby hungry?” She nodded imploringly, her head falling onto your thigh to nestle it.

“Go ahead. Take what’s yours,” you encouraged gently with a nod.

She practically tore your panties to shreds, the fabric dangling off your legs. She ogled you like she was dehydrated and your cunt was fresh lake water, harsh breaths leaving her mouth, but she didn’t move. She whimpered and begged some more, rubbing her face all over your leg. You laughed, and she sobbed.

Her legs were squeezing together, trying to stimulate anywhere she could. She needed to get off with you.

“C’mon, babygirl,” You leaned back and propped your legs open, your pussy on full display for your girlfriend. She wrapped her arms around your thighs and yanked you closer, diving face-first into your pussy.

Delighted laughs molded with your moans with every swipe of her tongue on your clit, your hands rubbing her head and scratching her shoulder. She slurped and sucked all over your pussy, her tongue dragging up after she fucked it inside you.

Curses and gasps left your mouth, your legs instinctively closing around her head before she forced them open. Her tongue flicked over your bud perfectly, desperately drinking all your slick.

Nasty sounds of her tongue on and in your cunt disrupted the peace of your quaint space. Your hands left her to rub and yank at your tits. She moaned into your pussy while she watched you touch yourself, her arm falling between her own legs to rub down on her wrist.

Her licks on your cunt slowed with every grind into her hand, and you paused.

You scoffed when you looked down and saw her humping her own arm like a dog, her drool coating your hip as she cried in satisfaction.

“Ellie.”

A loud whine left her mouth, her bounces increasing in pace. You gripped her hair tightly and pulled her head up, her dazed eyes blinking slowly with affection. She loves you so much.

“You get your reward and this is how you act? Didn’t even ask me t’cum.”

She could only stare in complete adoration, her vision cloudy and hyper fixated on you. She needs you. Needs your cunt on her fucking face.

“Gotta take care of myself, huh? That’s how it is?” You snarked.

Tears filled Ellie’s eyes at the insinuation; She loves you! She messed up! She won’t do it again!

“Put your hands behind your back,” you scolded and her lip quivered.

Her wrists crossed at the end of her spine, and your hand came down to spread your sticky lips apart. You scooped some slick at your entrance.

“Open.”

Ellie’s lips parted, and you shoved two wet digits in her mouth. She hummed and sucked them diligently, her tongue swirling around to gather every drop.

“Uh huh. Savor that. You’re not getting anymore.”

Her expression downcasted. Her fluffy ears almost flattened atop her head.

“Don’t pout,” You pulled out of her mouth, “I gave you a chance. Sit there and watch me.”

Your fingers returned to your clenching entrance, slowly pushing inside, your walls slowly swallowing around them to pull them deeper. You and Ellie moaned in unison, the two of you watching how you stretched around your digits.

“Yeah? Kitty likes that?” You exhaled shakily and Ellie licked your thigh. You sighed happily.

“Was so fuckin’ close but you had to show out,” You spat quietly, your fingers massaging the squishy walls of your pussy, “Gonna fuck you up so good after I cum, fuck.”

Ellie was panting against your bare skin, hot and sweaty with her eyes glued to your pussy. You fucked yourself harder, arching your fingers to nudge that perfect spot, grinding them deep inside you. Wet sounds rang from your cunt and against the walls, heat building in the pit of your stomach at an alarming pace.

Ellie got closer to your pussy, her heavy breaths hitting your throbbing clit. You couldn’t bring yourself to push her away like you normally would, the intensity of your climbing orgasm overtaking your mind.

“Gonna make you suck my cum out these fucking sheets. Nasty bitch,” Ellie moaned right above your cunt, eager for your juices to drench her face completely. You’re right there, she can tell. You just need a little more, fuck fuck fuck, she needs this—

Kitty wants your cum, mommy? Please?

A sharp gasp left your lips and your eyes rolled into your skull. You barely felt Ellie’s lips wrap around your clit in a hard suction, your juices splashing against her chin and tongue and cheeks. She helped you ride it out in her mouth, her arms holding your bucking hips down on the bed. She keened at your gasped praises of goodkittygoodkittyfuck.

She eased you back into your body, her sucks easing into gentle licks on your bud. You promised yourself you’d get her for disobeying later; You’re fucking tired.

Some time passed as you wallowed in your bliss before a grin grew on your face.

“C’mere, baby.”

Ellie climbed onto the bed and on top of you, straddling your waist and leaning down for a peck. She pulled back when that mischief from earlier resurfaced in your eyes.

“I didn’t even get to show you the tail.”

Ellie shuddered against you; She silently prayed for you to get her a collar next.

[mariii1]

( ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘)(˘ ε˘ʃƪ) What's your sexuality (like)? 18+ (´ε｀ )♡

..........sooo i need to get out of the pattern of making time based promises, I've lied every damn time 😭😭 We'll see when the next pac will come out since im probably gonna do a lot more choices. Let me know if this resonated!

1. There might be something taboo you're holding back. You might not have delved a lot into your sexuality which isn't inherently bad but there might be a specific part you feel ashamed about. For some you this is about a fetish or your orientation for others its just shame that comes from purity culture/r@pe culture. To get rid of this is different for most, for a lot of you time and gaining more experience in life in general will help you feel more comfotable and for others you may need to take a more active role in getting rid of your conditioning. Y'all might be like me where your into our want to get into fetishgear like latex and maybe want to learn bondage but you may feel isolated in who to talk to and where to go. Getting past these anxious thoughts and actually doing your research is what's gonna help you, you might be procrastinating on this because of your own internal conflict.

2. Lord have mercy...You DO NOT want a romantic relationship or a family 😭😭 its coming through stroonnggly. I think some of y'all could be aro and don't know it. People might've told you you're cold hearted or weird for not wanting to date. For some this is toxic because you don't communicate that you don't want romance to people, which ya needa start if you don't. Yeah some of you in this group might have problems being honest either with yourself or other people. There may be pressure to fit in when there's no real harm if you don't, in this case at least. A lot of you don't believe in traditional relationships or just have no desire for romance. A lot of you are planning to be childless when you're older and if you're thinking about getting sterilized, it might be something to start thinking about seriously.

3. Oooohhh someone KNOWS fr what they want. You have this huge boundary and expectations of what you want and this couod for anything: hooking up, sex with a partner, casual dating, etc. Because of this though you might not have been in a relationship for a very long time. You're very headstrong about this and want a fair and equal relationship. I'm specifically getting a lot of femmes in this pile who are fed up with cis men. I don't have any other comments for you, you seem set in this mindset and if its working for you, great! 👍🏽

4. Me 😜 JK tbh i might be your type for some of y'all the same way I think Che Guevara is finee😩 I'm also getting hopeless romantic from this pile but ive never seen that stereotype as something positive and I feel like in this case you guys pine after people a lot but don't try to make any moves. I feel like you could have multiple crushes currently ir multiple ppl u got ur eye on but you haven't even said hi or anything to them yet. As a fellow introvert and someone who's just starting to try to make friends I get it, but it's time to get out of this mindset and just make the first move even if ppl don't like you or they don't turn out as great as you thought.

Rainbow divider @enchanthings