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builtbybrokenbells · 5 days

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Heartbreak Hot Seat | JTK

After seeking refuge at her best friends house, Y/N can’t seem to open up enough to let Josh help her with her troubles. In a twisted turn of events, it appears that his twin brother Jake has the perfect remedy for a broken heart.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 20k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), body worshipping, sir kink, impact play, praise, degradation, biting, nipple play, lots (and I mean lots) of dirty talk, lots (can’t stress that enough) of foreplay, body shots, softer sex (compared to what I usually write), overstimulation, multiple orgasm, (sort of) forced orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, begging, very brief and inadvertent mentions of free use kink, slight dom/sub, name calling, touch of angst, mentions of cheating/bad past relationships, breakups, sadness/depression (due to breakups), crying, long emotional talks, drinking, parting, Jake being too sweet for his own good, soft Jake, fluff, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!

hi guys ☺️ i miss writing Jake so much I had to hit you with back to back fics. this is literally porn w plot (over 2/3 of this is just smut I think), so I hope you enjoy this as much as I liked writing it! As always, enjoy, be kind, don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (I’m so, so happy to be back) (lightly edited 🥰)

“Here, you want to try this?” Josh asked, nudging your arm in hopes of breaking you from your solemn state. You blinked a few times, feeling his elbow on your skin, but his words were far away. They seemed like an echo in an empty room, like you had walked into the place only after he stopped speaking. Breathing seemed like a treacherous task, your bones aching every time your lungs inflated. You stared blankly at his hand, holding a fork in his grasp as he kindly offered you a taste of whatever he was eating. “Jake made it, it’s good.”

Jake made it.

You were sure whatever he made would be good, but the thought of food was worse than sickening to you. You wanted to be kind, to try the meal your friend (even if by extension) had made, especially after he offered you the hospitality for an afternoon hangout his home, but you couldn’t seem to accept the gracious offer. The crowd in the living room was overwhelming, despite only a few bodies being present. The chatter was loud and pulsing against your already busy brain, and Josh’s leg resting against yours was nice, but much more than you could handle in the moment.

Josh knew there was something wrong, but unlike usual, he could not seem to pry it from you. Over the last three nights you had spent crashing in his spare room, he used every ounce of energy to comfort you despite being unaware of what exactly your troubles were. You knew you could reach out to him anytime, talk to him about anything, but right now, it seemed impossible to speak the words aloud.

You had been friends with the boy for what seemed like a lifetime, surviving off his constant company and thriving off his eccentric personality. He stuck by your side through college graduations, career changes, and every challenge life seemed to throw your way. You were a busy woman, and he a busy man, and neither of you had much time for social lives outside of your demanding work schedules. Even so, that fact made your friendship all the stronger, because despite your lack of free time, you always made time for each other.

So when you showed up at his doorstep, 3am and crying while spewing absolute nonsense, he guided you to his spare bedroom and told you that it was yours for as long as you needed. The next morning, he came to check on you only to find you hadn’t slept at all. Hours spent sitting beside you attempting to cheer you up only resulted in further confusion and frustration. Despite his busy life, he cleared his schedule and made it a priority to be with you until you felt better. That afternoon, you managed some small talk, but avoided the elephant in the room. The next day, things felt a little more normal between the two of you. A few jokes were shared, and you even had a movie night in the living room with him and his partner. By then, Josh had vowed to let you speak on your own terms, but was doing everything he could to brighten your mood.

Today, when you woke from a broken and nightmare filled sleep, Josh knocked at your door to ask if you would like to get out of the house. After some internal debate, you decided it might be good for you, it might help you forget the only thing you could seem to think about, even if it was temporary. You showered (with Josh talking through the door and stressing the importance of self-care, of course), changed into some clothes you stuffed into a duffel bag during your quick escape, and the three of you hit the road.

After a short drive, you landed at the door of his twin brother’s house, where you would spend your afternoon. Jake, who you had heard loads of things about, was still a mystery to you. Between conflicting schedules and trying (and failing, sometimes) to find time to hang out with Josh, you never got much of an opportunity to get to know Jake, or even Sam for that matter. You knew he was quieter, a little more reserved than Josh, but was funny and had a heart of gold. You chalked up his praise to being his brother, but you never knew Josh to be a liar about anything. You trusted all he had to say about his brothers, and despite your sadness, you were excited to finally meet them properly, rather than just in passing.

You said a brief hello to Jake at times, mostly when you were leaving Josh’s house and he was heading in. You remembered him to be on the shorter side, but with a breathtaking smile and long, brown hair. When you stepped foot into the house and finally had time to appreciate the man standing in front of you, you understood Jake was a lot more than a pretty smile and long hair. He was stunning, and despite your broken heart, you couldn’t help but stare.

Not long after your brief introduction, the rest of the crowd begin to filter in. Sam and his girlfriend both seemed lovely, and Daniel and the friend he brought with him were just as nice. Jake had made lunch, and whatever it was smelled heavenly even if the thought of food sickened you. After a few hours of laughing and talking, the boys went back for seconds, clearing out the last of the food in the kitchen. The day was dwindling into evening, and you still hadn’t managed to break from your solemn state. You sat, listening to all of the conversations and laughing along to jokes, but didn’t find yourself with enough energy to contribute much.

Josh, clearly picking up on your lack of involvement, was doing all he could to help. Offering food was just another failed attempt of many.

“I’m okay, Josh. Thank you though.” You forced a smile, feeling guilty for your constant rejection. You wanted to tell him so badly, but every time you worked up enough courage to explain it, your words failed you and you thought you might be sick. His sad eyes seemed to be staring into your soul, and it was becoming too much to bear. “I’m, uh, is it okay if I grab something to drink?” You cleared your throat, asking for permission in hopes of changing the subject.

“F’course it is, mama.” He assured you. “You want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him, sliding forward and rising to your feet.

“Grab anything in the fridge. I know Jake won’t care.” He said, making sure you didn’t feel bad about taking anything.

“Okay.” You smiled, small but genuine. You didn’t feel deserving of Josh’s kindness, but you were still grateful he cared for you so much. If not for him, you would have nobody to lean on.

Quietly, you walked out of the living room and in the direction of the kitchen Jake had lead you to earlier in the day. When you were alone, you let out a long sigh. The kitchen was decorated nicely, simple but tasteful, and the sweet smell of whatever Jake had cooked was still lingering in the air. Instead of walking to the refrigerator, you took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs pulled out from the table, deciding a minute alone was more important than a glass of water.

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back on your shoulders. The chatter floating in from the next room was much less overwhelming, and you finally felt like you could breathe without the constant ache in your chest. Just when you felt like you were getting your bearings back, you heard soft footsteps puttering through the hallway. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the same one that was constantly bothering you since you showed up at Josh’s house, and prepared for another round of questions from your best friend. You didn’t turn to face him, figuring he would make himself known in due time.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” The voice was not as familiar to you, and definitely not the voice you thought it would be. You looked over your shoulder, curious as to who was talking. Your eyes landed on Jake, a sheepish smile on his face as he stood by the door.

“Hey, yeah.” You nodded, trying to make yourself friendlier than you felt. It was not Jake making you miserable, or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be having fun, to be getting to know the people most important to your best friend, but the weight on your shoulders made it so hard to enjoy the moment.

“I saw you sneak out, thought I’d come and check in on you.” He explained, careful with his words. “Mind if I sit?” You gave a chuckle, and genuine smile as you listened to his words.

“It’s your kitchen, Jake, f’course you can sit.”

“Right,” he nodded, stepping towards you. “Guess I was wondering if you were up for company, or if you just needed a minute alone. I know it can be a lot to handle when we’re all together.”

“No! You guys are great, guess I’m just not in it today.” You said, knowing he hit the nail straight on the head but you were too nice to admit it. “Come sit, please.” He did as you said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. He was in perfect view and facing you, giving you ample opportunity to soak in his features as he thought about how to continue the conversation.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. Josh mentioned you were going through a tough time when I called him this morning. We were kinda hoping it would take your mind off whatever’s going on.” You wanted to recoil at the idea of Josh sharing your sorrows with a man you did not know, but the intent was sweet, and you knew Josh would never do anything to harm you. He was just a concerned friend looking for a way to cheer you up. Jake, despite being a near stranger, had enough kindness in his heart to want to help too.

And sweetheart.

You didn’t know the man, nor much about him, but you definitely wouldn’t mind if he called you that again.

“Thank you,” your lips twitched into another smile as you looked down at your hands on the table. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”

“Josh?” Jake asked for clarification that he heard right, raising his eyebrow at you. You gave a small nod, almost wanting to laugh at his incredulous tone. “Yeah, I mean I guess. I kind of have to agree, cause he’s my brother and all.” At that, a genuine laugh filled the air, the first one that left your lips in days. Jake was hung on your laugh the minute it left your lips, finding the sound addicting despite just having heard it for the first time. The smile on his face made it apparent he only came to cheer you up, and he was happy he could do it even for a moment. “No, he is pretty great, even if I do hate him by times.”

“It’s a sibling thing, I think.” You said, looking back up at his face. “Love them, even when you hate them.”

“Exactly.” He nodded, agreeing with you. “He’s my best friend, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill him sometimes. Has a great heart, but he can be a bit… annoying.”

“Josh? No.” You scoffed, playing into the bit as clear sarcasm dripped from your tone. At that, Jake let out a laugh of his own. You watched, in amazement at how beautiful such a simple sound could be. “Seriously though, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Yeah, you guys have been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” He asked, leaning forward and into the conversation. It was your turn to nod, finding years of memories flash before your eyes when you thought of it for too long.

“Yeah, I met him as I was finishing up my graduate program in university. He’d just moved here, and I guess he was looking for some friends. Right place right time, I suppose.”

“Funny how things like that work out.” He said, listening intently to every word.

“For sure.” You hummed, pursing your lips slightly at the memory of how you met. “Ran into him at a bar, drunk off tequila and singing a terrible rendition of… oh, fuck, what was it?” You racked your brain, trying so hard to find the name of the song in the mess of your mind. “It was Neil Young, I remember that much.” You sighed, shaking your head at your spotty memory.

“Don’t Let It Bring You Down.” He finished for you, a sparkle shining in his eye as he saw your expression light up.

“Yes! How did you know?” You asked, shocked he knew before you did.

“I was there that night, and I definitely made fun of him just as much as you did.” He explained, chuckling at the thought.

“You were there?” You asked, even more surprised at that fact.

“Yeah, think I was playing pool with Sam. Josh sucks at pool, so he was trying to find a thrill elsewhere. He told us he met someone, he really liked their ‘energy’. Guess he was talking about you.” He continued, nodding at himself as he recollected the night from so long ago. “That, and he sings that damn song every time he drinks tequila.”

“Huh,” you huffed, wondering how you managed to miss him that night. “I guess I was out the door pretty fast. I don’t even think I talked to Josh for very long. Got his number and we were off to the next bar. We loved to party back then.”

“Shame, cause he’s been keeping you an awful secret for the last few years.” Jake let out a disapproving tsk at the end of his statement.

“No, it’s not him.” You promised, shutting down the notion. “Life’s crazy. I’m either always stuck at work, or at home—“ you cut yourself off, hearing the sound of the word fall from your lips. It was wrong, and so much so that it twisted your stomach with nausea. “Stuck at work.” You doubled back, feeling a frown start to form again. The word home felt like a sour taste in your mouth that you couldn’t swallow back.

Jake watched you for a moment, curious about your sudden change of heart, but understanding it might not be the best time to venture into it.

“Did you want a drink, sweetheart?” Jake asked, his eyes flickering to the fridge. “Maybe something to take your mind off it?” You debated, wondering if it would better or worsen your mental state. Before you could decline, he spoke again. “I was gonna have one anyway, so it’s no trouble at all. Be nice to have someone to drink with, anyway.”

“Fuck it, why not?” You breathed, watching as another breathtaking smile blossomed on his lips. “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great.” He stood, taking two steps past you as he approached a cabinet by the refrigerator. “Want to come have a look?” He offered, looking back over his shoulder at you. You shrugged, nodding as you stood to join him. He opened the doors, revealing a plethora of bottles that all looked a little more expensive than you were used to. “Whatever you want.”

You noticed how close he was standing, how sweet his cologne smelled as it wafted in your direction. It was musky, ambery even, with sandalwood standing strong against the undertones. He had his finger resting against his chin as his eyes scanned the labels, clearly unsure of what he wanted, too. You couldn’t help but study the intricacies of his face, the bridge of his nose and how it casted a shadow over his soft cheeks, the unintentional pout of his bottom lip, and the enchanting colour of his irises. He was stunning, and it was hard not to notice it.

‘Stop it, Y/N. You’re in no position to think anyone is attractive, let alone your best friends brother.’ Your thoughts were right, full of warnings you knew you should listen to, yet there was something so enchanting about Jake that made it difficult to listen. ‘Thinking he’s attractive is only bad if I plan to act on it, which I’m definitely not. It’s okay to admire him, as long as that’s all it is.’ You felt the devil weigh in on the matter, and for some reason, that train of thought was much easier to go along with.

So you did. Simple as that, you decided to allow yourself the pleasure. It was almost as simple as acknowledging how beautiful Jake was.

“Anything catching your eye?” He asked, looking over at you. You knew he was aware of your staring, and when your eyes caught his, your cheeks tinged red. He gave you a smile, silently telling you all was well.

“There’s so much to choose from.” You said, forcing yourself to look back at the liquor cabinet.

“Do you like it straight, or do you prefer something sweet?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you once again. Although the question was innocent and clearly pertaining to the topic at hand, you couldn’t help but feel your heart speed. Your body was encased in goosebumps at the simple thought of him meaning it in any other way.

“Usually sweet, but I think today I could handle it straight.” You replied, having to tear your eyes away from him again. Had you looked for a moment longer, you might have noticed the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“This is my favourite.” He said, reaching out and grabbing an expensive looking bottle. He brought it down to your level, leaning into you slightly as he let you read the label for yourself. As his arm brushed against yours, you felt the same pull of your heart as you did when he first sat across from you.

“I’ll try it out.” You mumbled, a little breathless as he looked over your face.

“Good taste,” he hummed. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He assured you, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip ever so slightly.

“I trust you.” You said, feeling like you were coercing your tongue to speak the words.

“You should.” He responded, waiting for you to step away first. It felt like an eternity before you stepped backwards towards the table, but when you did, you missed the closeness of him almost immediately. The warmth of his body against yours was memorable, and definitely something you wanted to feel again.

You returned to your seat at the table, followed closely behind by Jake. Before he sat, he grabbed two glasses and the ice tray from the freezer. Carefully, he poured yours first before adding a few ice cubes to the cup. Then, he nudged it in your direction before fixing his own drink.

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” He asked, swirling his ice around his cup before bringing it to his lips. As he sipped at the amber liquid, his eyes never left your face.

“Oh, nothing important.” You shook your head, averting your gaze to the glass in your hand. You did the same, raising the crystal to your lips and drinking down the alcohol like it was water.

“You’re drinking that awfully fast for someone who’s got ‘nothing important’ going on.” He noted, cocking his head to the side for a moment, as if he was trying to figure you out. “I’ve got an ear to lend, if you want to talk.” He offered, but opted not to press any further. He didn’t want to force you if you weren’t willing, but he did want you to know that the floor was yours if you needed.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” You chuckled, watching the condensation of the glass drip onto your fingers. The chill of the liquid distracted you from the severity of the topic. “You’ve been kind enough already, Jake. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for inviting me.”

“No thanks needed, y/n. Seriously, Josh talks about you enough that I feel like I already know you, and trust me when I say, I like you just as much as he does.” He promised, taking another small sip of his drink. “And I offered, sweetheart. I want to listen, even if you don’t think I do.”

“What is with you two?” You chuckled, shaking your head at his staggering kindness. “Too nice for your own good, both of you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” He grinned, finding your exasperation amusing.

“No, it’s not.” You shook your head, feeling your heart warm with gratitude for the two brothers. You barely knew Jake, but you agreed with what he said. Josh spoke about him enough that you felt like you were friends already, and by all of the nice things Josh had to say, you definitely liked him. Since stepping foot into the kitchen, you had come to greatly appreciate him for other reasons, too.

“That’s the heartbreak chair.” He explained, running a hand through his hair as he pushed it away from his face. “Something about it draws people in.” Your eyes flickered up to his face, shocked that he made such an assumption, and even more surprised that it was right. He barely knew you, but he could tell without you having to say a word.

“It’s that obvious?” You asked. He shook his head, rubbing his chin in his hand for a moment before he spoke again.

“No,” he cleared his throat, taking in a long breath before he continued. “Like I said, there’s something about that fuckin’ chair.”

“How so?”

“Two years ago, Sam sat there when his girlfriend broke up with him. Must’ve spent the whole night sitting there, drinking away the pain.” He said, thinking back on the event. “And Daniel, a few months back when him and his girlfriend went separate ways. Even Josh, a long time ago when we first moved here.” He explained. “Whatever it is, when people get their heart broken, they sit there. I usually sit here, but it’s not always me they’re talking to. Sometimes it’s Josh, or another friend, or anyone really.” You thought about his words, carefully considering your next question before asking it.

“Have you sat here?” Your eyes were showing the sadness you tried so hard to hide. You didn’t know why, but you were comfortable with Jake. You wanted to talk, to tell him all about the sadness plaguing you. Something about him made you believe that your sorrows were safe with him, and that he was the key to feeling better.

It was an invasive question, something personal and maybe too complicated for him to answer. You regretted asking, but hearing about his brother's sorrows didn’t sit right with you. If you were giving him a piece of you, you wanted a piece of him. He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between your face and the whiskey in his cup. Eventually, he gave a slow nod.

“More than anyone else, I think.” His honesty was sobering, and it was admirable. Because of his willingness to share his sadness with you, you felt even better about opening up to him. “I’ve never been lucky in love. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.” He shrugged, the joke rolling off his tongue effortlessly despite the hidden pain in his eyes. “About six months ago, I was doing the same as you. Came home, she was gone without a trace. I stayed a few nights at Josh’s house, just ‘till I was strong enough to come back here, and I drank it all away. I’ve sat in that chair, sweetheart. You’re not the only broken heart this house has seen. Trust me.”

“It’s hard to open up to Josh about it.” You said, forcing your hand to hold the glass to the table. The burn of the alcohol in your chest was much preferred to the ache in your heart, but you persevered. “‘Specially when I watch how happy and in love he is. He’s got everything, you know? Nice house, kind heart, beautiful face, and a wonderful boyfriend. It’s intimidating talking about my mess of a life to someone who always seems to have their shit together.”

“I can see what you mean.” He nodded along, agreeing to an extent. “You know, he’d never think differently of you. He loves you a whole hell of a lot.”

“I know that, but I think when you’re this miserable, it’s hard to believe anyone cares that much.”

“For sure.” He said, swallowing down another mouthful of whiskey.

Just as he placed his cup down on the table, the distant chatter in the living room began to move closer. Both of you turned to the entryway to the kitchen, wondering what the disturbance was. Soon enough, the crowd filled the doorway, but only Sam and Josh were visible.

“Think we’re gonna head to the bar, you two in?” Sam asked, oblivious to the situation in front of him.

“I’m good.” Jake said, his tone firm and certain of his answer. Josh looked at you, curiosity in his eyes as he waited for a response.

“Y/N?” Josh asked, wondering if you were joining them. You looked between the twins, your eyes lingering a bit too long over Jake. When you looked back at Josh, you shook your head slightly.

“Think I might hang out here a bit longer, if that’s okay?”

“F’course it is.” Jake chimed in. “You go, I’ll get her back to your place safe and sound.” Josh looked to you once more, making sure you were alright. You gave him a smile, nodding your head in agreement with Jake.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. Love you, mama.”

“Love you too, Josh.” You smiled again, wider and with more warmth than ever.

With that, the group moved towards the door, and they were out in the yard within seconds. The silence hung heavy between you and Jake, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. So far, despite you being a stranger, your talk with Jake had been nothing but comfortable.

“So, does that mean you don’t think I have my life together?” Jake continued where you left off, clearly teasing. The smile on his face gave him away as he pulled his chair a little closer to you.

“‘Spose I don’t know you well enough to know, yet. From what I see, looks like you do, if that counts?” He let out a laugh, finding your humor despite the pain beautiful.

“You hungry?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Noticed you didn’t eat earlier.”

“Think I missed the draw on that one.” You said, looking at the empty dish on the stove. He stood, wordless as he walked to the refrigerator. He searched for a few seconds before pulling out a plate, flashing it in your direction.

“Put some away for you, just in case. I knew they would eat it all, so I just wanted to make sure there was some left.” He explained. The sound of his words made your heart ache, but it wasn’t in a bad way; the simple action, especially coming from someone who barely knew you, made the whole world seem a little bit brighter. You understood Josh’s constant talk of how big of a heart Jake had now that you had the chance to see it for yourself.

“Thank you, Jake.” You mustered the strength to speak, in awe of his attention to detail. He stuck it in the microwave, waiting for it to beep before placing it in front of you with a fork. Without mentioning it again, he sat back in the same spot, as if the last few minutes had never happened at all.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked again, more direct this time now that he felt he had some kind of leverage. Clearly he made a good enough impression on you, considering you hadn’t run out the door when the opportunity arose. Before responding, you took a few bites of the meal he’d made in preparation for his company. Your eyes fluttered closed in bliss, the taste something you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if it was just because he was a good cook, or if it was because it had been days since you had a proper meal. Maybe, it was a combination of both.

For such a simple looking pasta dish, it was beyond anything you had ever eaten before.

“This is so fucking good, Jake.” You commended him for his efforts. He let out another laugh, happy that you were enjoying it.

“Good to know,” he nodded. “I’ll have to make it for you again sometime.”

“You’ll never get rid of me.” You joked, placing the fork down for a moment, wanting to make the meal last.

“Not the worst idea in the world.” He shrugged. You felt your cheeks dust with redness, his words almost too sweet for you to handle. You washed down the pleasant feeling of his compliments with another sip of whiskey, settling back in your seat as you prepared to confess.

“I think I’ve always been too blind to see the bad side of people,” you started, simple and easy to kick off the topic. “I like to see the best in everyone, ‘till the very end.”

“Admirable.” He responded quickly, shocking you with his interest in your sorrows.

“I dated this guy for a while, a few years at least. Guess it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but I loved him, or the idea of him, more so. He moved in with me not long after we met, and it was nice. Things seemed real good for a long time, but a couple months ago, he kinda pulled back a bit. I didn’t think much of it, ‘cause I was working all the time anyway, but I probably should have.” You sighed. “I started noticing he was gone when I came home at night, or when he went out, he stayed out far too late for a couple drinks with friends. Found some… suspicious things around the house, but chalked it up to a bad memory.” You laughed, shaking your head at your own stupidity. “I went home after work on Friday, and he was in bed with another girl. Mutual friend, real pretty, sweet on the surface… everything that I’m not.”

“That’s not true, sweetheart.” He shook his head, stopping that thought before it could go any further.

“Think we were long overdue for a breakup, but I thought it would be more decent than that.” You shuddered, recalling the moment that had been plaguing you for days. “I’m less heartbroken over him than I am for the whole thing. It’s just… dehumanizing, I guess. How many times did we… you know, after they started? And in my bed? Where I sleep at night?” You continued, watching the ice circle the bottom of your cup as the liquid neared the end. Jake reached out for the bottle, popping the cork and refilling your glass for you. You smiled, a silent thank you for everything he was doing.

“There wasn’t really a fight, or anything. I mean, I yelled for a little while, but it wasn’t worth my time. I told him to pack his shit and get out, and I assume he did. I haven’t been back, but I haven’t heard from him, either. Guess I just… don’t want to be in that place right now, alone, with that memory.”

“Don’t know the guy, but I can tell you he’s a fucking idiot.” He said, throwing back the last of his drink and refilling his own cup. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to be home. Like I said, I stayed at Josh’s for a while too. Sometimes it’s nice to get out of the place full of stuff that reminds you of them.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You gave a somber nod, blinking away tears threatening your eyes. “Think it always circles back to the same thing at the end of the day… hard not to think it’s me, that I wasn’t enough, or if I could have done more. That’s the hardest part of it, really. Not like he was the boyfriend of the year or anything, but I never would have done that to him.” You took another long swig of whiskey, feeling your head begin to swirl with intoxication.

“It’s not you, Y/N. You know better than that.” He said, furrowing his brow as he thought over your story. “So what is it? What do you need?”

“What?” You asked, unsure of what he meant.

“He got what he wanted, so what do you need, sweetheart? To scream? Cry? To get so drunk that you don’t know where you are?” He listed the offers, as if they were all completely reasonable and understandable. He didn’t want to speak empty words, or give you reassurances that would wash right off your shoulders once he was done speaking. He wanted to help you feel better, however he could. “We could even key his car, if you know where to find it.”

You let out a laugh, one that shook your shoulders and made your stomach ache. While you laughed, tears slipped on to your cheeks, but they did not phase you. Jake’s company was so fantastic that the hurt didn’t even seem to bother you anymore.

“You’re too beautiful to be crying over someone like that, sweetheart.” He leaned over, using his thumb to brush away the teardrops staining your cheeks. Once he finished, he cupped your cheek in his palm, ensuring you knew he was being truthful.

“No idea how you’ve never been the bride, Jacob.” You said, exhaling a long breath as you melted into his touch. It felt nice to be touched at all, and even better to be touched by someone who cared. It felt like it had been an eternity since you had experienced that in particular.

“My day will come, just like yours will.” He promised. “I know it hurts, but with time, you’ll thank him for it, because a girl like you shouldn’t end up with a guy like that.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, the utmost sincerity in your voice.

“Don’t mention it.” He brushed off the thanks, smiling over at you. “Now what is it? What will make you feel better, right now? ‘Cause I’ll be damned if I send you out the door before you feel better.”

“I just want to stop.” You sighed, rubbing your face in your hands. “I want to stop hurting, to stop thinking about him, to stop feeling like a different person. I want to feel like me. I want to feel good, instead of being miserable.” Jake leaned back in his chair, watching your face carefully as he thought about your request. You looked over at him, chuckling at yourself. “I know, steep request. Probably not much in the world we can do about that. Yet, anyway.”

“No, there is.” He cleared his throat, pursing his lips together slightly. You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued by his response.

“Go on.” You urged him, curious about his idea.

“I don’t know if I can help you feel exactly like yourself again,” he started, looking up at the ceiling while he tried to word his response. “But I definitely have a quick solution for some of those problems.”

“Let’s hear it, then.” He smirked at your eagerness to feel better. Before he continued, he threw back the last of his drink for a second time. You could tell he was feeling it now, too. His cheeks were tinged pink and his eyes grew heavier the longer he sipped away.

“You’re open to any suggestions?”

“Well, most.” You huffed, almost annoyed by how long he was dragging this out. “Maybe not murder or armed robbery.” He laughed at your exuberance, shaking his head slightly.

“Well, sweetheart…” he sighed. “You want to stop thinking about him, and you want to feel good.” He listed, waiting to see if he was correct. You nodded in response, still not seeming to piece the two together. “If you’re open to trying it, I’m sure I could solve both of those problems at once.”

“Okay, Jake, this is not helping. Can you just—“ you cut yourself off, your eyes widening in shock as the puzzle finally clicked in place. You swallowed hard, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. As you looked at his expression, your cheeks burned red and your throat went dry. “Just to clarify, are you offering what I think you are?”

“Depends, beautiful.” He said, his tone soft and his eyes trained to your face. “What do you think I’m saying?”

“Are you offering to fuck me?” You wanted to be repulsed by the idea, but you were far from it. If anything, the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach told you the exact opposite, imploring you to fall into his arms and let him do as he pleased with you.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that would get your mind off him.” He argued his point, playful and calm so you knew rejection was more than allowed. “And if you’ll let me, I know I could help with that other part, too.” He let out a small huff of breath, as if he was excited just by the prospect of the opportunity.

“You offer that to every heartbroken girl who sits in this chair?” You asked, ensuring he knew you weren’t denying the offer.

“No,” he shook his head. “You’d be the first, and the only one, I think.”

“You think?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Never know what the future brings.” He shrugged, trying to keep his composure. As soon as he saw your bewildered face, he doubled over in laughter. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, but when he did, he did not seem to retract his statement. When he realized you took his words seriously, he stood from his chair, stepping towards you as he spoke.

“Yes, sweetheart. The only one. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He asked, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Yes, maybe? I don’t know.” You said, your eyes darting around the kitchen to avoid his heavy stare. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this situation, so I’m not sure how to react.”

“Only if you want to, of course, but the offer is on the table.” He said, retracting his hand so as not to pressure you into it. You took a drink from your cup, finding your chest burning as you did so. Difference was, you knew it was not because of the liquor. As you sat the cup back on the table, you looked up at him, inspecting him closely.

He was attractive, and that was undeniable. You had been thinking about it since the minute you saw him, and you couldn’t seem to get the thought out of your head. Just half an hour ago, you were shivering from the closeness of his body when you were standing by the liquor cabinet, and now you were quivering just from the thought of his hands on your body. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but in the moment, what he was saying made sense to you.

He was hot, you were desperate to forget, and he was offering a quick solution.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Why not?” He watched you for another moment, standing still while you decided for certain that’s what you wanted to do. “Uhm, we won’t tell Josh about this, right?” You asked, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you.

“Definitely not.” He laughed.

“And it’s just that? Just sex?”

“Just sex, just tonight, if that’s what you want.” He assured you.

“Okay.” You nodded again, more confident this time around. “Just sex, just tonight, with a guy I just met, who happens to be my best friend's twin brother?”

“It sounds better my way.” He said, taking a step towards you.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Sex with someone who is happy to make you feel better.” He spoke quietly, kneeling down so he was eye level with you. His face was closer than it had been all night, and if it were even possible, he was even more stunning up close.

“Yeah, that does sound better.” You agreed, smiling slightly as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Jake seemed to prompt more of a physical reaction in you just by looking at you than your ex did in the entire time you’d been with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the whiskey combining with the heartbreak forcing you to make a deadly decision, or if it was just the fact you were attracted to him. Either way, you knew you couldn’t leave his house without a taste of what he was offering, because he had excited you just by mentioning it. You felt like leaving him without knowing what he could do for you would cause more grief than your breakup had in the last few days.

“So what do you say, sweetheart?” He asked, reaching forward and brushing his knuckle over your burning cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, but you tried not to let it phase you too much. “You want me to help you forget about him?”

“Think you already have.” You mustered the strength to speak, but not the strength to look him in the eyes. You were sure if you did, you would turn to putty in his hands.

“So you’re saying you don’t need anything else?” He pried, finding the teasing amusing now that he knew you were okay with his actions.

“No, I definitely do.” You corrected him, finally opening your eyes to look over his face. “I really do.”

“Tell me what you need, angel.” He said, flattening his palm against your cheek again. His fingers were tangled in the loose strands of hair hanging over your neck, the action more telling than the last time he touched you. It was firm, more reassuring, and meant to solidify his feelings about the situation.

“You,” you bit the inside of your lip, almost embarrassed about your need for him.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Think we’re long past that.” He said, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Although he had full intent to follow through with his earlier promise, he wanted you to be in charge of the matter.

“Kiss me, please.” With that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours as he held your face in his hand.

His lips still tasted like the alcohol he was sipping on, and his skin was still cold from the ice in his cup. Even so, the chill of his skin was quickly offset by the warmth of his tongue as it glided past your lips. The feeling was addicting, much more intense than you thought it might be. Your hands reached out for him, desperate for more. His fingers seemed to be burning into your skin, the touch electric and the sensation ten times more powerful than anything you had ever felt before. The emotion flowing through you from such a simple action was immeasurable, and you already needed more.

“Like that, sweetheart?” He asked, his lips still ghosting over yours as he presented the question. You were breathless, your head spinning and your mind completely free of the painful thoughts that previously seemed permanently attached to you.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your voice quiet. You could feel him smiling, cocky enough to know his plan was already working. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Come with me.” He said, moving away from you and rising back to his feet. Although you were sad he pulled away at all, you knew it was for a better reason. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and his own cup, waiting for you as you tried to bring yourself back to earth. You took your own from the table, waiting for him to make the next move.

He outstretched his arm, still holding the bottle tightly in his hand as he loosely wrapped the appendage around you. Carefully, he guided you to the hallway. Without any further words shared, he led the way to his bedroom with intent to finish what he started. As soon as you stepped inside, you were surrounded by him. His cologne lingered in the air, and his clothes littered the floor. His bed was messy, but in the most inviting way possible. Patch cords and guitar picks littered the surface of his dresser, and an acoustic guitar took post in the corner of the room.

Although the stipulations of your entanglement did not extend beyond a single night, curiousity got the best of you. With your heart singing a song curated specifically for him, it was hard not to want to know more about him. Seeing his life so intimately made you crave more substance from him, even if it was ridiculous for you to think.

“What’s on your mind now?” He asked, placing the liquor down on his bedside table.

“Nothing bad,” you assured him, still trying to soak in all the room had to offer. “Guess I’m just curious about you now, is all.”

“All you have to do is ask.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “Later, though, because talking isn’t my top priority right now.” You watched him as he closed in on you, your stomach twisting with excitement at his words. Before he could place his lips on yours again, you swallowed back the last of your drink and placed the empty cup on the top of his dresser, freeing your hands so you only had to focus on him.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you as your hand landed on his bicep. Now, with the opportune position, he had the luxury to touch you as he pleased with nothing standing in his way. One of his hands fell to your hip, his grip firm as he pulled your body into his own. He leaned down, placing his other hand on the back of your neck as he guided your head towards his. He started slow, fearful he might have come on too strong, but you weren’t willing to take your time with him.

It had been a long time since you had been excited by the prospect of sex, and despite knowing you should not be feeling such a way about anyone, let alone Jake in particular, he had elicited that response from you easier than anyone who came before. Even though his kindness was the most abundant of all his traits, you caught a few glimpses of what lie beneath, and if you were being completely honest, that was what held your attention.

The way his arm felt resting against yours at the liquor cabinet, the sly smile after his ambiguous questions, his heavy stare when he thought you weren’t looking, and the sparkle in his eye when you laughed. That was what drew you in, and everything else was just a cherry on top.

When you first sat with Jake, you almost felt guilty that you were so willing to tell him about your troubles, especially after shutting Josh out. Now, with his lips on yours and his hands exploring your body, it made sense that you felt such a way. Jake was offering much more than Josh could, and he could help in ways that Josh could not begin to imagine. He gave you an easy pass to forgetting, a quick solution to feeling good, and a simple way to move on, even if it were only for a short time. Jake was the perfect fit for what you needed, and you were happy that he was so eager to help.

Time was the only true healer, but Jake was a catalyst to speed the process up, and a very pleasurable one at that.

As the kiss continued, the two of you grew much more comfortable with each other. Your body had relaxed and your hands were more courageous as they travelled over the parts of him you were desperate to know. Your entire body was ablaze with excitement, and your mind was completely free of all the previous fears and feelings you were plagued with. His hand on your hip had drifted to your ass, pulling your hips forward into his as he became familiar with the taste of you on his lips.

If you had any fear about his willingness to sleep with you, it was destroyed within seconds of stepping into his bedroom. You could feel his own excitement, through his actions and other, more obvious signs. As he continued to kiss you, you could feel his erection against your leg, straining against the zipper of his jeans. As much as he wanted to take your mind off of things, you were just as happy to relieve him of the problem you had so easily caused.

When he parted from the kiss, his lips were pink and swollen, glistening with spit under the low light flowing in through his window. His hair was messy from your fingers running through it, and his eyes were darker than they were in the kitchen.

If you thought he was beautiful before, it had nothing on how he looked now.

His hands drifted under the hem of your shirt as he looked over your face, ensuring you were comfortable with continuing. When he was met with pleading eyes and a hopeful expression, his lips quirked up into a smile as he lifted your shirt over your head. As he tossed it to the floor, his gaze traveled downward, allowing himself to admire the parts of you that were usually kept hidden. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if the sight knocked the air from him completely and he was trying to recover from the shock.

“So fucking beautiful, angel.” He hummed, his hands finding you again as he spoke. The feeling of his calloused fingertips against the smooth skin was exhilarating, and even more enticing than anything he’d done before. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, bringing his lips back to your skin as if he was already missing the feeling of kissing you.

He focused on your neck for a moment, curiously exploring as he tried to find the sweet spots. When his tongue settled below your ear, a whine fell from your lips, so quiet he nearly missed it. The sound reached his ears, sending his skin tingling as it wrapped around his spine and made home there. He kept his attention in the same spot, desperate to hear more. Your hand raised to his arm, holding yourself steady as your stomach swirled with emotion. His mouth continued lower, and courage flooded him as his hands continued to familiarize themselves with you.

He unhooked your bra, brushing the straps from your shoulders as his mouth landed on your collarbone. You felt his teeth graze the skin, the action gentle but purposeful as your bra fell to the ground with your shirt. Now, without anything standing between the two of you, his hand landed on your breast. His thumb drifted over your nipple, moving in a slow circular motion as he felt it harden under his touch. The small sensation only furthered the ache between your legs, and you could feel the wetness begin to soak through the fabric of your underwear.

As he continued his work, you felt your thighs squeeze together in a shameless attempt to ease the discomfort. You didn’t want to rush him, because everything he was doing was phenomenal, but it was growing increasingly difficult to bite your tongue when you so badly needed more from him.

Eventually, his head dropped low enough for his tongue to graze your already sensitive nipple. The warmth of his mouth paired with the precision of his tongue was deadly. You felt a shaky breath rattle your chest as you tried to keep yourself calm, but it was growing increasingly difficult to do so. You needed him more than you needed anything in your entire life; your body craved him in a way you never knew to be possible, and he had promoted more pleasures than anyone before without even needing to take all of your clothes off.

Something about Jake was otherworldly, and his promises to help you forget were not empty. He was doing exactly as he intended, better than you ever thought he could.

He seemed to be enjoying the moment just as much as you were, completely content with pleasing you and never worrying about his own needs. You had never, in your entire life, met someone who was concerned with your needs first.

He pulled his mouth away from you, his eyes fluttering up to your face as he took a few seconds to sort out his thoughts. His eyes were blackened, his pupils completely consuming his irises as he thought about all of the possibilities the night could have.

“Let’s get you out of these,” he muttered, hooking his fingers through the back belt loop on your jeans.

He pulled the fabric away from your skin, letting it snap back to form as he pulled his hand away. The thud of the material against your skin sent another rush of arousal through you, and you found yourself complying to the request without a second thought. He brought one hand to the button, undoing it with ease as he dropped to his knees once again. He pulled down the zipper, tugging on the fabric so they fell down past your hips. As soon as the denim was out of his way, he brought his lips to your stomach, focusing his attention there for a moment before going any further.

You were aching for relief as his tongue drifted over the exposed skin, and you were nearly brought to your knees as he took the time to leave a trail of pink marks where his lips landed. It would be a reminder of the night for days to come, darkening further with time, and you were thrilled at the idea of having a physical memory of his touch when not in his company. He pulled your jeans further down your legs, his lips now ghosting over your hips as he tapped your leg. You lifted one foot from the ground, allowing him to free you from the jeans entirely. You repeated the process with the other leg, and eventually, the jeans were strewn across the floor and gone from your memory completely.

“Jake, I need you.” You huffed, looking down at him, watching carefully where his lips met your skin. He did not respond right away, seemingly wanting to finish what he started before moving on to something new.

Then, his lips pulled away from you, but did not stray too far from their original position. You watched the muscles in his jaw tense as he comprehended the raw emotion behind your words.

“You need me?” He repeated, his voice husky and his eyes heavy as he bargained with the fact.

“Please,” you whispered, breathless as you tried to recover from the constant stimulation he was providing. “So bad, baby.” He drew in a long breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he heard the pet name fall from your lips.

“How could I say no to you when you sound so pretty?” He asked, the question without need of an answer. With that, he used his arm to push you towards the foot of the bed, only stopping when the backs of your knees collided with the mattress.

Then, he rose to his feet, finding himself at eye level with you once again. “What do you want me to do, angel?”

“Anything; just touch me, please.” Your voice was weak, his effect still strong over you even though he wasn’t touching you.

“Anything I want?” He asked, stepping closer and bringing his hand to your side again. He let his fingers trail down until they met the hug of the elastic band of your underwear on your hip. “Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” You gave a single nod, showcasing your certainty on the matter. He chuckled at your eager nature, looking you over once while he thought of what to do next.

“Lay down for me, sweetheart.” He said, nodding his head towards the bed behind you. “Don’t be shy, get comfortable.” He continued, watching as you turned towards the mattress, unsure if it was possible to climb in and be uncomfortable. The blankets looked soft, and warm, even if they were strewn messily across the surface. The pillows looked like clouds, and there definitely wasn’t a lack of them. More than that, it smelled like him, even from afar. Although you’d only known him for a short time, it had already become a comforting scent for you.

You did as he asked, climbing into the bed and rearranging a few of the pillows. Once you were satisfied, you laid on your back, looking up for him as you awaited further instructions. He gave you a small smile, unable to refute how much he liked the sight of you in his bed, even if it was under strange circumstances.

It was never like Jake to dislike the sight of any girl in his bed, but you seemed to tug on his heart just a little more than others that came before.

“This is a sight I could get used to.” He hummed, adjusting himself in his jeans as he let his eyes trail every bit of exposed skin you had to offer.

“Thought this was a one time thing, Jacob?” He chuckled at your question, unbuttoning the few buttons holding his shirt together. As he slid the fabric from his shoulders, he responded to your inquiries.

“I said if that’s what you want,” he reminded you, dropping the shirt to the floor. Your eyes drifted to his body, drinking in every inch of him. The way the columns of his neck blended perfectly into his collarbones. You studied the structure of his shoulders, focusing intently on his biceps as your eyes trailed down his arms. Then, your gaze moved to his chest, the tan skin decorated with necklaces hanging from his neck. Your admiration ended when your eyes met the buckle of his belt, and you realized he was watching you watch him. “For some reason, I don’t think you’ll be able to stay away.” He sent a wink in your direction to follow his words.

His ego was taking up every spare inch of space in the room, and he was completely different than he was when you were sitting with him in the kitchen. The sweetness still lingered underneath the surface, but his desire had turned him wicked and he was doing everything he could to keep you on his hook. You couldn’t find a single complaint about it, because you loved this version of him even more than the kind hearted man who opened his home and his liquor cabinet to you.

“I think I want another drink,” he started, looking at the bottle decorating his nightstand. His gaze flickered back to you, wanting to ensure you were still watching him. “How about you?” You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach, wishing that he would just go back to touching you. The banter was fun, and you loved talking to him, but you had needs far more pressing than conversing with him. “Don’t look so disappointed, Angel.” He hummed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. “I promised to make you feel good, and I’m going to…” he trailed off, popping the cork from the bottle as he kneeled on the bed beside you. “But I have to have my fun, too.”

With that, he brought the spout of the bottle to your navel, carefully letting the trickle of cool liquid fall to your skin. A few droplets trickled down the side of you, landing on the mattress below, but he didn’t care. With great gentleness, he reached out and placed the bottle back on the stand. Without breaking your stare, he settled himself between your legs, his head hovering over your belly as he leaned down a little closer.

With his eyes still settled on your face, he let his tongue glide over your stomach just above your panty line. The skin was already dampened from the spill of liquid from the bottle, cold from the air hitting the wet surface. His tongue warmed the skin, but did much more than just that. The gentleness of his touch cause a plethora of emotions to course through you all at once, and you couldn’t seem to keep your mind straight. The disarray only seemed to worsen as he trailed upwards, drinking up the whiskey like he was a professional on the matter.

When the alcohol was consumed, he did not stop his tyrant. Instead, he continued all the way up until his tongue met your breast once again, circling around your nipple before suctioning his lips to you completely. The warmth and wetness of his mouth was otherworldly, and the new position allowed for his hips to meet yours while he continued teasing you. You shifted down on the mattress, not enough to break his focus, but just enough for your aching core to meet with his cock, strained against his jeans. The contact was minuscule, but enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath from him.

He used his free hand to hold your hips in place, grinding himself down on you ever so slight to give you a bit of relief. The friction was good, even if it wasn’t enough. Paired with the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive nipple, it was enough to pry a moan from your lips.

“Jake, please touch me. Need it so bad.” You whined, feeling your hips raise from the mattress despite his hand holding you down. He pulled his mouth away from you, a small popping sound ringing through the air as he lost the suction of his cheeks.

“You want me to touch you, beautiful?” He asked, shimmying to the side so he could do as you asked. He brought one hand between your legs, resting beside you on his knees as he held himself up with his other arm. His fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your aching core, noticing the wetness before he even pushed the fabric to the side. “Fuck,” he hissed, looking down at his hand. “All of this for me, angel?”

“Just for you, baby.” You whimpered, feeling his finger drift over your covered clit. Although you wished that the barrier did not exist, you would settle for what you could get.

“And what’s got you so worked up? It can’t be me, I’m just getting started.” He teased, pushing the fabric to the side. Before he continued, he waited for you to respond.

“It’s you, Jake.” You assured him, almost sheepish of the fact. He was right, he was just getting started, and you were far too worked up for just a few minutes of foreplay. You couldn’t help it, though; between his sinful touches and your own lack of sexual pleasure over the previous few years, you were ready to come undone before he even touched you.

“Don’t tell me he was that bad of a guy.” Jake let out a murmur of discontent at the thought. “Couldn’t think about anything other than himself, even with a girl as pretty as you in his bed?” Your cheeks burned red at his words, embarrassed at the thought of him being correct. “You know I won’t do that to you, angel.” He promised, finally letting his fingers get a feel for the wetness pooling between your legs. “From here on out, it’s all about you. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding in agreement with his idea. To you, it sounded more than good. It sounded fantastic.

With that, he gathered your arousal on his fingers, slowly trailing it up to your clit. He traced slow circles into the already sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your face so he did not miss a single second of your reaction. Your gaze flickered to his face, taking in all of the details while he did the same for you. His brow was furrowed with concentration, and his lips were still slightly swollen from earlier. The muscles in his jaw were tense, and his eyes told you just how happy he was to be pleasing you.

“You know, I was hoping to get you in my bed, even before you sat in that chair.” He confessed, his voice quiet as a sheepish smile crossed his face.

“Y-yeah?” You asked, the word breathy as you felt the pull of pleasure begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You were intrigued by his statement, so much so that it took your mind away from the burning desire for a moment.

“Yeah,” he affirmed, smirking at your obvious curiosity. “Been thinking about it since the first time I saw you at Josh’s house.” He continued, carefully letting himself move closer. He propped himself up on his forearm, moving his body down towards yours. “You walked out, all dolled up in a pretty little dress. Blue, if I remember right. I wasn’t really looking at the dress.”

He was right, and you could remember the scene just as well as him. It was the only blue dress you owned, and you were on your way to lunch with a potential client, which was why you were so eager to get out the door. He was carrying his guitar, in a cutoff t-shirt and jeans that hugged his legs just right. You were both younger, a little more naive and much more childish. You could remember being stunned by his long brown hair, tousled by the wind, and the sunglasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose. He was beautiful then, just the same as he was now, but you were too afraid to introduce yourself. You managed a small greeting as you passed by him, and spent the whole drive to the restaurant with the picture of him stuck in your head.

“Been waiting that long, Jacob?” You asked, finding a bit of strength to tease him back.

“I wouldn’t say waiting,” he chuckled. “But definitely thinking about it. Prettiest girl to ever walk out of his house, and the prettiest girl to ever step foot in mine.” He continued with the flattery, sliding his middle and index finger to your entrance. Before he continued, he slipped his fingers inside of you. As he began to pump his fingers, he let his thumb drift over your clit. The combination of the two sensations was overwhelming in the best possible way. “If I had it my way, I would have fucked you right there on his porch.” The vulgarity of his words may have been off putting in any other context, but as he said it, your walls fluttered around his fingers and another intense wave of arousal washed over you. “And you would have let me, wouldn’t you?”

You were nearly delirious from the pleasure steadily growing in the pit of your stomach. Your skin was ablaze, the sensation growing stronger with every word he spoke and every touch he gave you. You were willing to tell him anything and everything he wanted to hear as long as it meant he wouldn’t stop.

“God, yes. I would have.” You whined, moving your hips down on his hand as his fingers curled upwards, hitting the sweet spot inside of you.

You weren’t lying, either; had you known at that time he could make you feel so good, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. At the sound of your tone filled with need for him, he made it a point to curl his fingers upwards again as he pumped them into you. As his fingertips brushed over the sensitive spot he’d found with ease, a moan filled the air, loud and desperate for him to keep going. “Oh, fuck me.” You groaned, gripping at the sheets below you.

“I intend to, sweetheart.” He replied. Although he knew you did not direct the message to him, he felt the need to interject his own thoughts anyway. As the words left his mouth, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. He couldn’t help himself; he was compelled to kiss you, feeling that he might not be able to survive without the taste of you on his tongue.

His fingers continued to move with intent, eager to pry an orgasm from you. The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, your skin tingling with pleasure as another moan tore through your chest. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, feeling lucky to be the one experiencing such intimacy with you, even if it was under strange circumstances.

He broke from the kiss as he felt your walls clench around him again, knowing that you were closer to a climax than you would ever admit. He increased the pressure of his thumb, watching you carefully so he did not miss the moment he’d been patiently waiting for.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” He crooned, drunk of the pleasure twisted amongst your features. The praise washed over you like summer rain, settling deep in your stomach and furthering the intensity of the feeling. Your brow was furrowed, your eyes squeezed shut and your lips parted ever so slightly, allowing the most beautiful sounds to cross them. “You’re so fucking hot.” He muttered, propping himself up a bit further for a better view. As much as he wanted to focus on your face, he felt his eyes trail down to his hand, unable to resist the only other sight that could compare to your pretty face.

He sucked his bottom teeth between his lips, biting down on it as he watched his fingers disappear into your cunt.

Your eyes cracked open, desperate to catch a glimpse of him before you descended into the organ that was quickly approaching. When you caught sight of his face, you noticed his eyes were not looking at you like they had been moments before. When you followed his gaze, seeing what he was so fixated on, you felt a whole different type of emotion wash over you. He did not notice your stare, too caught up in the sight to even care about anything else. You were enthralled in him, watching him admire you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

You bit down on your lip, feeling the warmth in your stomach begin to spread to the rest of your body. You were so close, so ready to give in to the temptation of the feeling, but you weren’t ready for the moment to come to an end.

Within a second, that train of thought was completely disregarded, unimportant and needless.

A low groan, resembling more like a growl sounded through the room, coming from deep in his chest. His eyes turned dark, almost animalistic as he was taken by his desire for you. It was a simple thing, so unimportant in comparison to everything else he was doing to you, but it was everything to you. To know you could drive such a beautiful man to such desperate feelings made you weak, and knowing he was just as taken by you as you were with him sent you over the edge.

The orgasm that took hold was stronger than any you had ever had before. Your entire body was immersed in euphoria, from the very tips of your toes to the muscles in your face. Not one part of you was spared from his wicked power, and as your legs trembled, you came to terms with the fact he was right; heartbroken or not, you were hooked on him. Walking away would be ridiculous, and coming back for more was a given. You could not comprehend the idea of never feeling such a way again, and that made it all the harder to equate your solution for heartbreak to a single night.

“That’s it, angel. Doing so good for me.” His words seemed far away, but the sentiment behind them stuck with you indefinitely. He continued pumping his fingers into you, coaxing you through the climax with his hand and his words. You had never felt more important, more cared about than you did with him, like your enjoyment was the only thing in the world that mattered.

He pulled his fingers out of you, his gaze flickering to your face as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched as he slipped his middle finger past his lips, glistening with your release as it landed on his tongue and his mouth closed around it. As the taste filled his senses, his eyes fluttered closed and a low groan rattled his chest. Your face flushed, your stomach pulling with another bout of pleasure as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. He pulled his finger from his mouth, a slight popping sound filling your ears as the digit slid off his lips. Your eyes squeezed shut, the sight nearly pornographic, and hotter than anything you had ever witnessed before.

“Taste so fucking sweet, baby. Just like I thought you would.” His words were soft, gentle as they filled the air around you. You couldn’t look at him, fearful that if you caught his eye, you would descend into another orgasm without him even touching you at all.

Your knuckles ached as you released your iron grip on the sheets, your body relaxing against the mattress as you came down from the high. Your lungs ached for a full breath of air, and your skin was still tingling with the ghost of pleasure. You looked down at Jake, expecting him to be watching you, waiting for your next move, but he was doing none of those things. He was tossing his belt to the floor, sliding out of his jeans and boxers at once and tossing them in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You noticed his frantic nature, taking a second to discard your underwear and toss them to the floor as well. He didn’t say a word, making a move to shift downwards on the mattress. He settled between your legs, his hands on your hips as he pulled you down towards his face.

He guided your legs over his shoulders, settling his palms on the tops of your thighs as his lips dusted light kisses over the inside of them. As you both grew more comfortable with the new position, you felt his confidence grow, too. His teeth grazed over the sensitive skin, his tongue following the path to sooth any irritation that might occur. Goosebumps littered your entire body, and every nerve was aflame with desire for the boy who made home between your legs. You watched him, a wondrous sparkle in your eye as you inspected his every move.

Was it normal for someone to be this attentive, to be so concerned with making you feel good? Had you been missing out on such a fantastic experience, wasting your time with someone who was only concerned with himself? Or was Jake just so phenomenal that he made everything a million times more fun?

You did not know, and you did not care; the only important thing to you was him, and he was doing well in making you forget about all of your other worldly troubles. The only thoughts in your mind were pertaining to him and his ability to please you. He was like poison, infiltrating every thought and every emotion, completely taking over without you even thinking twice about it.

His eyes flickered upwards, meeting yours in a silent inquiry. The trail of love bites on your thigh was darkening by the second, and his gaze was burning into you.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He ordered, but it was hard to comply to his wishes when it felt like his fingers were searing into your skin.

“I-I just… sex has never been like this before.” You breathed, wondering how he knew something was wrong despite you not saying a word. He was effortlessly in tune with you, feeling every emotion coursing through you as if it were his own. “It’s never been so good, and I’ve never been so… taken care of.” You squeaked out the last few words, embarrassed to admit it to him.

“Oh, don’t tell me that, angel.” He muttered, almost pained at the thought. “If I had known he wasn’t taking care of you, I would have done it myself, a long time ago.” The sincerity in his tone made your head spin, and you were almost regretful that you had been so caught up on a man who wasn’t worth your time, when you could have been spending your time indulging in someone like Jake. “You mean to tell me he wasn’t doing this?” He asked, obviously referring to the act he was about to commit. Your cheeks burned red as you shook your head, silently answering him. “What a fucking idiot.” He muttered, clearly to himself.

Instead of continuing the conversation, he pulled your hips down a little further, letting his actions speak louder than his words. He lowered his head, and you held your breath as his mouth connected with your core. His tongue slowly ran through your folds, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. He let his focus remain there for a moment, circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as your hands snaked down your body, tangling themselves in the long locks of his hair. Your felt his tongue dip down to your entrance again, flattening against you as he repeated the same process from earlier, savouring every drop of arousal you had to offer him.

As his tongue reached your clit again, he let out a long hum of satisfaction, like the moment had curbed every craving he had for you in an instant. He pulled away from you for a moment, looking up as he listened closely to your shallow breathing. “I could stay between your legs for the rest of my life, and I’d be fucking happy to do it.” He said, his tone gruff as some residual anger remained in his mind. “Now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t think you’ll be able to get rid of me.”

A whimper fell from your lips, completely uncontrollable as you tried to sear the memory of him between your legs into your brain for eternity. He returned his mouth to you, using the sound as encouragement while he continued on with his work.

Jake was a force you were not familiar with, yet you feared you may never fully grasp his power. You met him at the perfect time, and he offered his services when you needed them most. It was supposed to be a quick fix, a simple solution to stop the pain from tearing you in two, but it quickly grew into something much more than that. Now that you had a chance to experience pleasure at his hands, you weren’t ready to give it up.

Calling Jake a rebound would be ridiculous, because he was the furthest thing from it; in just an hour, he gave more to you than your ex did in years.

Like you said earlier, you were mourning the situation more than you were mourning the person or the relationship itself. The picture of betrayal had been seared in your mind, the self-doubt and self-hatred was abundant, and maybe there was a hint of sadness over the loss of routine, but most of your ailments were not caused by the man himself. With Jake’s help, that became incredibly apparent, and the rest of the sadness and anger seemed to fade away the longer his hands were on you.

“A-ah, fuck.” You hissed, your fingers tightening in his hair as an intense wave of pleasure took hold. “Feels so good, Jake.” Instead of pulling away to respond, he hummed against you, the vibration of the sound furthering the sensation he was already giving you. He wanted to hear how good you were feeling, how good he was making you feel. His ego hadn’t gone away, and your compliments only fed it further. You would be uncomfortable with his cockiness if it were not warranted, but from everything he’d done so far, you understood that he was the only man you had been with who had a right to be so self-assured.

His hands inched up your legs, his grip loosening as he moved his fingers. The light tickle sent a shiver down your spine, and your head was spinning as his grasp slowly settled on your hips. His tongue continued to circle around your clit as he pulled you a little further down on his face. A moan filled the air, much more desperate than the last and the vulgarity immediately categorizing it as pornography. You weren’t sure if such a sound ever left your lips before, but you did not have time to focus on the fact before another one followed up the last.

Your cheeks were burning to the touch, your skin blotchy with redness and glistening with sweat. Your hands were anchored in the roots of his hair, and his tongue was driving you so crazy that you couldn’t help the automatic roll of your hips against his tongue. You were bordering the edge once again, and he seemed to have no intent to slow. One of his hands remained on your hip as the other began to explore, dusting over your stomach with great gentleness. It was a staggering difference between the hand on your hip, which was holding you tightly, as if he was scared he would lose you if he let go.

You were lost in the movements of his tongue, no other thoughts existing within your mind as he continued with his precise actions. The warmth of his mouth was heavenly, the wetness of his tongue making every move all the more remarkable. His hand raised to your chest, finally finding what he had been blindly searching for as his palm cupped your breast. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back onto the pillow as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Then, his fingers found your nipple, brushing over it and sending jolts of pleasure through you. The sensation combined with the feeling of his tongue was indescribable, addicting, and intoxicating. You felt drunk off of him alone, and you never wanted to sober up.

Just when you thought you were accustom to the multiple sensations all at once, he moved his hand, taking your nipple between his thumb and his forefinger and giving one hard pinch. You let out a gasp, your hips bucking forward into his mouth even further. You could see the shake of his shoulders, showcasing his silent laughter at your reaction.

Even if you wanted to be upset at him, you had no idea how to be. Being angry with Jake seemed like an oxymoron, two things that could not coexist together. If anything, all you wanted to do was praise him for all he had done to help you.

He retracted his hand from your chest, snaking it back down your body. He brought it underneath your leg, bringing his middle and ring finger to your entrance. He pushed them inside of you, with the same curl to his fingers as earlier. The added stimulation was heavenly, and a sure apology for his earlier action. He barely had to pump his fingers at all before your back was arching off the mattress, desperate and shameless for more.

“Jake, baby.” You warned, the words coming out hastily and jumbled together. “M’gonna cum.” You forced the rest of the sentence out, the fire in your belly blazing and threatening to take hold.

He hummed against you again, encouraging you to give in and let go. With one last curl of his fingers paired with the flick of his tongue, your second orgasm took over. Your legs trembled with the intensity of the feeling, your hands holding his hair as if you were afraid of floating away if you let go. The air was filled with obscenities, curses and praise for his work as you descended into the pleasure. If his mouth wasn’t occupied, you knew the praises and encouragement would be the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. He coaxed you through the moment, and your heart rate began to slow and your muscles started to relax from the tension.

Difference was, this time he didn’t slow.

His tongue continued to trace your clit with more intent than before, as if he wanted to see how far he could take it before you gave in. At first, the feeling was uncomfortable, but the idea of stopping was more troublesome than the sting of overstimulation. Instinctively, your body tried to pull away from him, but he used his hand on your hip to hold you in place. Your hands remained in his hair, but did not try and pull his head away from you. You wanted him, and the orgasm he had just given you was inexplicably addictive. You wanted to feel that way again so bad that you could spare the few moments of discomfort in exchange for something so fantastic.

The noises falling from your lips had upped in intensity, and definitely felt more dramatic. You were loud enough that you feared the neighbours might hear you had they stepped outside. He was living in the moment, driven near insane from the desperation in your voice. You looked down, and despite your blurred vision, did the best you could to admire him while you had him like such. His hair was a mess, still knotted around your fingers. The muscles in his back were tight, flexing with every move of his arms. His knuckles were locked in place around your hip, decorating it so nicely that you dreaded the moment he had to let go.

Although beautiful, those were not the things that held your attention. Instead, you were drawn in by the sight of his hips grinding into the mattress below. Pleasing you had worked him up so badly that he himself was aching for relief, unable to control how badly he needed to be touched. The thought was maddening, and the sight drove you over the edge.

Before the overstimulation even began to wear off, your body was forced into another climax that put the previous ones to shame. Your throat was raw from crying his name, your entire body aching from the violence of the feeling. For a moment, you thought you might die at the hands of his sin, but not even that thought could force you away from him. Your lungs burned and your head swam with thoughts of nothing and everything, all at once.

You had never felt such a way in your entire existence, and even when your body began to recover from the effects of his tongue, your mind had fallen far behind. You were barely holding on to reality as he finally withdrew his fingers from you, and your head was completely elsewhere when his head moved away, too.

“Could listen to you scream my name like that every fucking night.” He growled, pressing his wet lips to your thighs so he did not have to give up contact with you entirely. “God you’re a fucking masterpiece. Can’t believe it took so long for me to have you like this.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, instead wiping away your release from his chin and moving upwards so he could kiss you. As his hips landed on yours, you felt his cock press against your soaking core, the warmth of bare skin against skin nearly driving you into another orgasm. You were floored at his ability to make you feel good, and amazed that nobody else could make you feel such things. As his tongue glided across yours, you could taste yourself on him, only making the moment even more remarkable. It made him even more addicting, and you were certain you could get used to having him in such a way.

“Just a second, sweetheart.” He slurred, drunk off of you. He pulled away from you, sliding out from between your legs and climbing out of bed. You watched him, breathless and stunned at the picture of him completely naked in front of you. It was the first moment thus far that you had the chance to admire him fully, and you never wanted to stop.

He was painfully hard, the tip of his dick red with irritation from the rough threads of the sheets and glistening with wetness from where he was resting against you. The sight sent you mad, your mouth watering and your need for him growing tenfold. He turned to his bedside table, rummaging around in the drawer in search of a condom. When his fingers landed on the box, stuffed way in the back and hidden under a pile of junk. He looked over at you, smiling shyly as he pulled one from the box.

“Don’t really need these all that often.” He chuckled, an inadvertent way of telling you he was being truthful when he said you were the only one he offered his services to.

“Wait,” you uttered, watching as he raised the package to his mouth to tear it with his teeth. He froze in place, worried that you might have changed your mind.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, ready to discard the foil square in his hand and dress himself if you were uncomfortable. “Do you want to stop, or slow down?”

“No!” You shook your head, feeling bad that the thought even crossed his mind. Instead of letting his anxiety get the best of him, you sat up from your laying position. Carefully, ensuring you had your balance, you shifted so you were resting on your knees, facing him. You looked up, giving a small smile as you beckoned him closer. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he stepped towards you anyway.

Only when you reached out for him did he understand your intentions. He sucked in a sharp breath, watching as you grabbed his hand and guided him closer to the edge of the bed.

“Tonight is supposed to be about you, angel.” He muttered, a weak protest against your actions.

“I want to, Jake.” You assured him, unable to refute your desire to please him, too. “Please?” You looked up at him, doe-eyed with faux innocence written over your features.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, unable to resist the temptation. “I had no idea you were such a whore.” Even if his words were venomous, his tone did not match. He had such a way with words that even his insults sounded like praise. “Go ahead then, if you want it so fuckin’ bad.”

You debated thanking him for his kindness, but you opted to do it with your actions, instead. You leaned toward, bringing your mouth to him. You parted your lips slightly, letting your tongue glide over the head of his cock. The saltiness of the pre-cum staining his skin lingered on your lips as you took him in your mouth. You bobbed your head down slowly, allowing spit to accumulate on your tongue as you let it glide over the underside of his cock.

As you moved your head down on him, your eyes fluttered closed in concentration. His size was something you weren’t used to, but you had enough confidence to follow through with your efforts. When you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, your eyes watered as you fought back a gag. Desperate to impress, you relaxed your throat as you took him all the way. You felt him twitch in your mouth, letting you know that he was enjoying the moment just as much as you hoped. A string of curses fell from his lips, followed by a long groan. The sound only worsened the persistent ache between your legs, but you carried on, knowing that he would take care of that once you took care of him.

He raised his hand to your hair, gathering it in his hand and holding it away from your face. His eyes were permanently fixated on you, terrified of missing even a second of the view in front of him. You sat there for a moment, allowing yourself to grow comfortable with the feeling before forcing yourself to swallow, despite the momentary discomfort. As your throat constricted around him, he took in a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the sensation. Another groan tried to force it’s way from his chest, but he tried to hold it back, resulting in the sound coming out more similar to a whine.

Even if it was unintentional, it drove you fucking crazy.

You pulled back in one swift motion, inhaling a breath of air as his cock fell from your lips. Trails of spit covered your chin, but it did not phase you. Before he could recover from the loss, your mouth was on him again.

“Ah, fuck, sweetheart.” He growled, his grip in your hair tightening. “Full of fucking surprises tonight.” Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare as you bobbed your head down on him. You longed to sear the picture in your mind forever. His hair was disheveled, his jaw-hard set and his eyes crazed as he studied your every move. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you were certain of that. You felt lucky to be able to please him in any way, and grateful to have caught his eye all those years ago.

As you drew your head upward, you let his cock leave your mouth completely, deciding to give him a show. You circled your tongue around his tip, pursing your lips as you placed them on the side of his dick. You pushed your tongue flat against him, suctioning your cheeks just a bit to add some pressure. As you moved your mouth down his cock, you made sure to keep eye contact with him the whole time. When you reached the base, you slowly ran your tongue over him as you brought your head back to the tip. Without breaking the momentum, you took him back in your mouth and bobbed your head back down until his tip hit the back of your throat again.

You started a steady pace, listening intently to every sound that passed his lips. It wear encouraging, and it was hot. If you had to say, it was the most attractive thing you had ever heard. As you felt him slide down your throat again, you let out a moan. The vibration amplified the already intense feeling, causing his head to fall back on his shoulders as he hissed out a long string of curses. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, desperate for a release but unwilling to give in to it just yet.

In truth, you would not have minded. He had been beyond generous already, and to do him a kindness was the only way you thought fitting to repay him. Even if you would miss out on fucking him, you were happy to be used by him in any way.

As you continued at the same pace, you could feel him begin to lose himself to the pleasure. As your head came down on him, his hips involuntarily moved too meet with you. The constant pressure in the back of your throat was making it difficult to keep calm, but you persevered until he pulled away first. A particularly sharp thrust of his hips sent you over the edge, and the gag you tried so hard to stop finally forced its way out. Your throat constricted around him again and your eyes welled with tears. Hastily, he pulled away from you, his chest heaving as his concerned eyes looked over your face.

“M’sorry, angel. You okay?” He asked, crouching down so he was eye level with you.

“Yeah, I’m good, it’s okay.” You promised, nodding you head. He raised his hand to your cheek, swiping away tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“We can take a break if you need it,” he assured you, holding your gaze. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m going too fast or if it’s too much.”

“I’m okay, I promise.” You gave him a soft smile, well recovered from the moment of slight tension. He watched you for a moment longer, wanting to be certain. When he realized you weren’t going to change your mind, he leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss. The softness of the action was all you needed to feel better again. “Can you fuck me? Please?” You muttered the words against his lips, unable to wait until he was finished to ask the question.

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” He asked, intrigued by your excitement.

“Yes, please.” You breathed, needing it like you needed air. The desire you had for him was nearly debilitating, and since he’d stopped touching you, there was no relief for the grating need.

“Turn around for me, Angel.” He said, rising to his feet. He was in no position to deny you anything, because he wanted it just as bad.

You did as he asked, noticing he was reaching for the foil wrapper on the nightstand again. You couldn’t comprehend the grief that washed over you as you saw it, and the words rushed out faster than you could stop them.

“I’m on the pill,” you said, hearing him freeze in place. “I’m clean, too.” You were telling the truth, because before him, unprotected sex wasn’t even a thought in your mind. Whatever he had done to you that night seemed to permanently alter your mind, and the simple thought of not having him completely was sickening.

“Me too.” He hummed, almost relieved that you told him. He tossed the condom back on the table, the dull clatter of the impact prompted a smile on your face.

You backed up closer to him, your knees resting near the edge of the mattress and your feet dangling off the edge. He stepped towards you, his hands reaching for your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His touch drifted over your ass, appreciating you while he had you in such a way.

“You have no fucking idea how good you look like this.” He praised your beauty, his voice deep and laced with desire. One of his hand fell from your hip, and seconds later, you felt his cock rest against your cunt. Slowly, he ran the tip through the wetness that was worsening by the second. “You want it, sweetheart?” The husky tone settled deep in your bones as you dropped to your forearms, bringing your top half lower to the mattress. You pushed your hips back towards him, adding a little more pressure to your clit, which he was resting against.

“So bad, Jake.” You pleaded, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“What was that, Angel?” He asked, sliding himself back down to your entrance. “Couldn’t quite hear you.” There was a smirk on his lips, cute enough to help him get away with the teasing, but irritating enough to bother you.

“Please, baby.” You whined, trying again.

“Please what?” He pressed further, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly. The miniscule change was agonizing, but it still made your head spin. “I want to hear how bad you want me, beautiful.��

“Please fuck me, Jake.” You finished your broken sentence, your tone stronger than it had been all night. “I need to feel you, please.” With that, you pushed your hips back again, testing your limits.

Unlucky for you, at the same time, he thrusted forward with force, causing the impact to be so much more intense.

“A-ah, fuck!” You yelped, the size of him something brand new to you. The way he filled you was enough to bring you to your knees, but the painful sensation of his cock hitting your cervix amplified the pleasure even further.

“There you go, baby.” He crooned, completely disregarding your response as he drew his hips back and slammed back into you with the same energy. “How does that feel?” The slight sneer in his tone was aggravating, but you had to admit that it looked really good on him. The sudden change in attitude made you realize that what had come before that moment was not typical for Jake. He was snarky, arrogant, and he liked to be in charge. You could tell by his fingers bruising your hips and his tone talking down to you.

Although you thoroughly enjoyed the time you already spent with Jake, it almost made you sad when you realized what exactly you missed out on.

As you were stuck on the thought, you felt a sharp sting across your ass. The sensation on your skin combined with the pleasure of him inside of you, making you quiver under the touch. “Answer me when I fucking speak.” He barked, letting his fingers gently caressed the reddening skin where his hand made contact. You weren’t sure if it was purposeful or absentminded, but the sweet touch after the harsh words felt good, reassuring that he was only putting on an act.

Then, you decided if he wanted to push you, you could do the same to him. The worst that could happen was a punishment, and the idea of punishment at Jake’s hands was nothing but thrilling.

“Feels so good, sir.” You exaggerated your tone in hopes of getting under his skin, but the term of endearment seemed to short circuit his brain. His hips stuttered and his hands tightened their grip.

“Such a fucking whore,” he spat, his words quiet as he regained his composure. Even if his words were harsh, you could tell by his voice alone how much he enjoyed your attitude. “I love it.” He muttered the words to himself, but you heard it despite his efforts to keep it to himself. He felt your walls flutter around him, drawing him in further and deeper, encouraging his antics even further.

One of his hands raised to your hair, gathering it in his fist and knotting it around his hand. He tightened his hold, pulling your head back ever so slightly as his hips continued at the same, bruising pace. You arched your back even further, your chest nearly brushing against the mattress now as your ass raised to meet his hips.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed, holding your hips as he upped the strength in which he was thrusting into you. “Take it so fucking good.”

The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, threatening to snap with every move. You were crying his name, praising him for his hard work as he pushed you closer to a climax. You were sure his bedroom would never recover from the pornographic display the two of you found yourselves in, and the thought served as a comfort. You wanted him to think about you every time his bedroom door closed, remembering how you looked in his bed as he fucked you from behind. You wanted him to picture the way your ass met his hips every time he closed his eyes, and you never wanted him to forget the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Although he intended to solve your problems, you wanted to create a new, constant one for him; one that plagued him every night and haunting him during the day. You wanted Jake to succumb to the need of you, and you wanted your number to be a constant call in his phone, begging you to come over so he could curb the urge for a little while. You wanted to infiltrate every thought that crossed his mind, because you could not stand the idea of him giving this to anyone else.

“You want to cum already?” He asked, recognizing the tremble of your legs and the desperation of your high-pitched moans. “So fucking needy you can’t even enjoy it for a while?” He chastised you, but both of you knew there was zero malice behind his behavior. He was living for the way you moved against him, surviving off the sound of your pleasure. He was thrilled to drive you to such a state so easily, and he would give you whatever you wanted, so long as you asked nicely.

“Please, sir. I want it so bad. I need it.” You stressed the importance of the topic, feeling the burn begin to overtake your entire body. The urge was impossible to stave off, and you knew there was no use in trying. After all he’d done to you so far, you were long past self-control.

“Fine, but you better not hold back. I want to hear every one of those filthy fucking noises.” He growled, pulling your head back with a little bit of force. “Put on a good show, sweetheart, or I might not be so nice next time.” He warned, holding your head in place with one hand and your hip with his other. He pulled you back on him, making the impact even more powerful. The painful pleasure pulsed through your entire body, so intense that you could feel it behind your eyes. With every thrust of his hips, you grew closer to the release you so desperately needed.

In exchange for him giving you what you needed, you gave him exactly what he asked for.

“Oh, god, Jake.” You whined, upping the dramatics for the sake of his request. “You feel so good, baby. Please don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling your head spin with the threat of your climax. You could hear his shaky breaths, the sound of your words hitting him harder than he anticipated. His hips remained steady, though, never faltering as he continued on exactly as you asked him to.

“Come on, angel.” He huffed, looking down at the curve of your ass, watching himself as he fucked into you. The permissive statement sent you spiralling, pushing you over the edge with little thought.

“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, feeling your stomach burn with pleasure. Your hands were balled into fists, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. Your arms and legs felt like they would give out from under you as they trembled. Jake seemed to notice the same thing, and the hand holding your hip slipped under you, holding you up so you did not have to worry about anything other than feeling good.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl.” He crooned, never letting up on his pace as he continued to fuck you through the climax. Even as you came down, your body did not relax. Your skin was ablaze and your forehead was glistening with sweat. You were tired, and the feeling of him inside of you became less pleasant and more intense as he continued to thrust into you. Your noises became less angelic and more desperate, as if they served as a warning for him to slow down. Overstimulation was threatening your exhausted mind, driving you closer to insanity by the second as the burn of irritation began to spread.

“Jake,” You wheezed his name out, trying to bargain with him as he increased the speed of his hips. “Jake, please.” You pleaded, now for an entirely different reason.

“What, you wanted it so bad and now you can’t take it?” He growled, his hips still moving at a relentless pace. “You can take it sweetheart, I know you can. Be good for me, baby. Just a little longer.”

“I don’t know if I can.” You cried, your throat raw from the desperation of your moans. Both of you knew he would stop if you really needed it, but he would be damned if he gave up before you truly needed him to.

“You can, beautiful. Being so good for me.” He rushed out, clearly growing close to his own climax. “Don’t you love being a good girl for me?” He asked, easing up on you ever so slightly.

“I do,” you whimpered, feeling his hand in your hair push your head towards the mattress. The strength of his thrusts had lessened, and the overwhelming sensation started to become pleasurable again. “I love it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He whispered, desperation beginning to set in for him, too. He loosened his hold around your hips, knowing you were much steadier, now. He moved his hand between your legs, his middle finger finding your clit with ease. “Just a little while longer, baby. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, his words giving you the strength to keep going. You clenched around him, amplifying the sensation for both of you as his finger continued to trace around your clit.

“So fucking tight.” He praised, saying it mostly to himself. “Give me one more angel. I know you have it in you.” He was right, the orgasm was already building at a rapid pace. You could feel the tingle of euphoria in the tips of your fingers and toes. You were too strung out on him to answer, but he knew that you would give him what he wanted.

Nobody in their right mind would ever deny Jake anything he asked for, anyway.

“Jake, fuck, m’gonna cum.” You rushed out, the urgency something you had never experienced before in your life. He let out a low chuckle at your state despite feeling the same desperation.

“That’s my girl.” He said again, the statement still hitting as hard as it did the first time he said it. With one last thrust of his hips, you came undone, all of the pleasure from the night coming to one final climax.

Your mind was blank, no thoughts or worries left to bother you. You wanted to scream his name, but nothing was coming out. Your chest ached and your lungs were in dire need of air, but you could not even seem to do something as simple as breathing. Jakes hand pushed your head further into the mattress, your cheek pressed against the soft fabric of the sheets as he started to lose his composure, too. His movements were sloppy, his hips stuttering every time he fucked into you. The finger that was once tracing perfect circles on your clit seemed to forget how to do so, and he had his turn to utter profanities that only solidified the moment in your minds forever.

His grip on your hair loosened as he reached his peak, spilling his release inside you as his hips began to slow. He used his arm to pull you back on him one last time, holding you there while he recovered from the intensity of the moment. He let out a long breath, looking down once more where his hips rested against yours. He drew back, slowly thrusting forward a few more times as he fucked his release back into you. A low growl sounded from his chest, the sight alone nearly working him up all over again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked, his loving and catering tone returning as he withdrew from you completely.

“Yeah, m’okay.” You nodded, feeling the pressure in your skull lessen as he loosened his hold on your hair. “Fantastic, actually.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, excited at the idea. “You feel better?”

“Jake, you have no idea.” You breathed, slowly moving from your position. You were sore, tired, but you felt better than you ever had. “I don’t think I’ve ever… no, I’ve never had sex like that.” You confessed, rolling on to your back to let your body rest for a moment.

“I’m glad I could help, beautiful.” He said, laying down beside you. “Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up later.” He said, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, his skin warm and soothing as the sound of his heartbeat thudded in your ears.

“I should probably call a cab, get back to Josh’s place before the bar rush starts.” You sighed, saddened by the thought alone. You wished to stay wrapped up in Jake’s arms for the rest of the night, even if you knew you shouldn’t. You were going through a breakup, and dating was not on the table (or shouldn’t be, at least), but there was something special about Jake, something so different that it made it impossible to want to walk away from him.

“Are you crazy?” He scoffed, his tone light as he looked down at you.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head up as you awaited an answer.

“Like I’d ever make you take a cab.” He rolled his eyes. “But, you’re not going back to Josh’s place, sweetheart.”

“What if I want to?” You shot back.

“Do you?” He asked, seemingly staring into your soul. You bit the inside of your lip, fighting back a smile as you gave a small shake of your head. “Didn’t think so. I’ll just tell him we drank a little too much and you crashed in the spare room.” Your stomach sank at the thought of a spare room, but he could see it in your eyes before you had the chance to address it. “You’re not actually staying in the spare room, gorgeous.”

“Okay, good.” You breathed, chuckling at your own stupidity. “‘Cause I’d much rather stay here, with you.”

“That was never even a question.” He assured you, letting his fingers gently trail over your back. The light tickle was addicting, comforting and soft. It was exactly what you needed after such a high energy evening. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” He said the second part, quieter this time, but you could still sense the truth behind his words.

“No?” You giggled, smiling up at his pretty face.

“Mmm,” he hummed to himself, the sound vibrating his chest. He seemed like he was thinking about all of the possibilities the night held, everything he could do with you (or to you, for that matter), and more importantly, what positions he could put you in. “No, definitely not.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You let out a sigh of content, already dreaming of the same things. A silence fell between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. With Jake, it never was. After a while, you felt the urge to speak again, to show your gratitude for his kindness. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.” You whispered. “It really helped.” His lips quirked into a smile as he pulled you closer to him. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m glad I could help, sweetheart.” He muttered, his lips still pressed against your hair. “And please, if you ever need help forgetting about anything at all, just give me a call. I’d love to help you out.”

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builtbybrokenbells · 6 days

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✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨

i love you!!! thank you darling 🤍🤍

#asks <3

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builtbybrokenbells · 11 days

Text

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 1 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; mutual pining; crying + feelings of sadness; arguing; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; JEALOUSYYY; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk (that, off and on, turns positive); talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ acting on them hehe); reader and jake are both STUBBORN (as always); cheating; heavy petting; oral sex m!receiving; forgetfulness; vivid imaginings of sex; talks of EMDR + the possibility of revisiting dark places; jake being the best, most helpful baby daddy there ever was (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 11 (Part 1) Word Count: 23.3k+

a/n: sorry for the looooong ass wait. same old, same old. life is busy. (also, @joshym and i did go to our first three greta shows on THIS leg and almost died, too - soooo that got in the way lmao.)

as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits <3

and biiiigg thank you to @gretavangroupie for being the dopest proofreader + catching my little, dumb mistakes lmao <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

-🌼🌼🌼-

"...covetousness, looking more at what we would have than at what we have..."

-Joseph Hall

-🌼🌼🌼-

Chapter 11:

Monday

December 5th, 2022

Staring at the ceiling seemed like the best possible option. No rush to your morning or day. Class had been canceled due to a pipe bursting in the building it was held in. And after seeing that in your notifications, you’d also had a text from Gia – telling you she had to cancel your therapy session again, still recovering from the after-effects of Covid. You couldn’t be mad at her, but admittedly, it’d made your heart fall.

And to make your morning even better, when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the sound of Jake and Maya. The most lovely way to wake up.

All you could hear through your door were two little fucking lovebirds out in the living room and kitchen area. . . The sound from the box fan you’d decided to keep next to your bed was your best companion in your bubble of endless sulking at Jake and Maya.

The ceiling fan above you was great entertainment as it rotated on a perfect pattern, seemingly in slow motion. And the box fan was hitting your face with the coolest, most refreshing air flow. Offered some sort of relief, at least.

In a moment that threatened to make you feel real sad, you felt the slightest bit free by the fans and their fresh air and consistent patterns. The serenity that rolled from them was your only saving grace.

Today was going to be a long day. There was nothing to do.

But, on a wild hair (and after a particularly grating laugh from Maya), you decided to text Theo and ask if he wanted to make up for yesterday's missed study session today. You didn’t know why you did it, but you did. And his text agreeing to it was instantaneous.

Theo, 8:34 a.m.: I would love that! Does 4:00 work for you? I have to work until 3:00 :(

You took your time responding and texted back lazily, not really wanting to do anything with him, but desperately wanting to get Jake out of your mind.

You, 8:37 a.m.: Sure! Sounds good.

This lovely day had already started with a drag. On top of Jake and Maya talking and giggling like teenagers through your door, the sky was gray outside your window, rain having poured all night long. A light drizzle was still hitting your window.

Your stomach rolled at the new smells of breakfast coming from the kitchen, Jake and Maya eating breakfast at your house after their fun night you’d been privy to through the walls.

The dreary cloudiness of the December day was offset by Maya’s squeaky laughs. It kept happening – she kept laughing her ass off at him. The Jake you knew could be funny from time to time, yes, but he wasn’t a comedic genius by any means. He really wasn’t that funny.

But, you’d learned she was adamant at being a good little textbook girlfriend. And it had become absolutely exhausting for you to experience — especially while you continued to carry her boyfriend’s baby.

Your mind got stuck in a thought when you came back to that. . . One little thing that had been bugging you, coming to your mind everyday since Maya had found out.

How in the fuck was she so okay with it? Her boyfriend living in the same house as a girl who was pregnant with his baby? How was she being so damn cool about it?

You grumbled much louder than necessary as you yanked the charger from your phone to check your Ovia app. The photo of what the baby looked like this week was the first thing you saw. You imagined what it looked like right this second. . . . You also wondered when you’d start to feel him or her move – to your surprise you weren’t really stressed that you hadn’t felt it yet. Based on your last doctor visit, you knew the baby was completely healthy and you were feeling much better than you had been a couple weeks ago. You were trying to be logical.

What you did let your mind wander to was what the baby was bound to look like. It was a normal thought process. Would it be a boy or girl? You didn’t even want to guess. Would it have Jake’s eyes and bright smile? You still hoped so – those continued to be the features you desired most of all.

Even though he was not at the top of your happy list right now, you wanted him to share in this with you. It was a conundrum. And, you couldn’t deny that his gesture last night had been so incredibly sweet—the personalized cup he’d left for you, full of iced water.

But, as soon as you went that route, your mind flicked to what hadn’t been so sweet. The not-so-sweet things your ears had been witness to right after he’d dropped the cup off at your door.

Your moment in the kitchen, nothing but an afterthought as soon as he’d gotten to his bedroom to find his goddess of a girlfriend waiting for him. He’d claimed to want you so badly in the kitchen, only to move right on from you to her.

But you weren’t an idiot. You knew he wasn’t yours like he was Maya’s. Although, it didn’t stop your heart from tearing in your chest as you listened to him fuck the girl he truly belonged to through the walls.

Simply put: you were just done witnessing their sex life. Done with it.

It was disheartening and made you feel insecure and sad in ways you really didn’t need to feel.

Your hand found your belly as you tried to get onto a happier train of thought. You read through all of your baby’s fun facts for Week 15. And, rubbing at the bare skin under your giant sleep shirt, you briefly wondered what Jake’s hands would feel like on your bare belly. Your belly, rounder every day with the baby you shared.

You felt your hormones hype up, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes at how much of a jumbled mess your life was.

And, while the predicament could’ve been blamed on you for breaking things off. . . You’d known, way back in August, that he was most likely bound to leave you for her. That day you’d picked him up from her house, their seamless connection had been obvious.

What was strange was every now and then, you heard these faint words from a memory in the back of your mind. His voice. His words. And it was always him arguing it – arguing the validity of him and Maya.

But the entire situation wouldn’t come back to you. So, you’d resolved that the words had been in a dream. They felt more like a dream. . . One you couldn’t reach back to. His stern voice telling you how wrong your assumptions were, a wavy non-memory. . . .

Though you still believed that no matter the case, whether you’d broken it off in August or waited until later, things would have turned out the same. Everything that happened was meant to happen. You’d still be pregnant and Maya would still be around.

There was no escaping the fact that Maya was going to be around. One way or another. Around and taking away the possibility for you and Jake to ever be together again. Not that he needed that. You weren’t good for him. You’d had your solid reasons for cutting things off.

But. . . why did those reasons seem to get hazier everyday? They were harder to place as the days went by.

You sighed deeply, deciding to focus on what else was real. . . The other things in the now that made you feel good. There was no reason to have any of that clouding your mind, to make you feel even worse than you already did.

Getting up, you made the bed and afterwards went to undress. Get ready for the day. But, as soon as you’d stripped your shirt and were standing naked in your panties, your heart sank. You heard something through the door that you really didn’t want to fucking hear.

“Your body looks so perfect in that, My,” Jake’s voice came through the door, sounding astonished. The cat call he made at her right after made a weight fall to the tresses of your tummy. “You are so beautiful. So damn pretty.”

And when your eyes caught sight of your bigger body— reflecting back at you through the mirror. . . .

The tears that leaked from your eyes were expected, your heart hung so heavy in your hollow chest. Words he’d just spoken to you not so long ago as you’d worked to rid yourself of stretch marks (your creams and oils working wonders, by the way, thank god).

“Beautiful,” he’d firmly stated while his eyes locked with yours in the mirror, just as he’d said the word. “This is beautiful. You are beautiful.”

You’d felt reassured by his words and pep talk that evening. . . It was stupid how his words had helped your mind to clear some darkness. It was stupid because obviously those words weren’t special for you. He’d say the same words to her in a heartbeat. You weren’t special.

And, no matter what he said about it not being because of the baby, it was true that he’d started being (more) attentive after finding out. The attentiveness had started almost as soon as he’d known about the baby. So, surely the words he’d said were just to perk your sad, pregnant feelings.

He was great at being attentive. You’d learned from past experience that he was like that if you were in any sort of relationship with him, too. And Maya was in more of a relationship with him than you fucking were right now, so . . . . of course he was bound to say that shit to her.

Her obvious, natural beauty being highlighted by him any chance he got was the opposite of what you needed to hear. You knew how pretty she was. Anyone with two eyes could tell; she was built so perfectly, her face was symmetrical as could be. . . And her smile, wide and shining, with the straightest teeth. He was dating Aphrodite herself (with more voluptuous curves than Aphrodite, even) and he’d be a fool to not state the truth.

And you. . . well, you were not built as well at the present time. And you were aware you’d hadn’t been built as well as her before the baby either. Her appearance had filled you with insecurities even then — and would continue to do so.

Jake could talk you up as much as he wanted. But you knew it wasn’t completely genuine and was just because he felt obligated.

You looked back to the mirror, watching to see the way your body looked as you turned to see the plump curve of your ass. Turning fully around, your hair flowed behind your shoulder as you eyed your backside. The world would never know if you were pregnant if they saw you from the back. . . You hadn’t even realized how normal the back of you still looked. All that had changed was your ass was slightly more plush with the baby weight. But, that wasn’t a bad thing.

The longer you looked at your backside, looking like your normal, used-to-be body. . . You realized how empty you felt to look at a version of you without your baby.

You kept your eyes trained on your body in the mirror as you spun back around on your heel to observe your front. Placing both hands on the tummy you had, your baby tucked safe as could be inside of you, you observed yourself.

There was no denying you were bloated while Maya was perfectly fit — her boobs and ass perky while yours weren’t as much so . . .

No, your whole body was changing to accommodate the little life you were growing. But. . . as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were finding you were really okay with it. You rubbed your hands smoothly over your ever-growing stomach, tracing shapes on the smooth skin of your (now) stretch-mark-less tummy.

Your belly was growing. . . constantly. You knew that over time, it would continue to crowd you tighter and tighter in every space you occupied.

But. . . You were okay with that. All it meant was that the baby continued to grow and that was what mattered. . . It didn’t matter that you didn’t look like Maya.

But, it didn’t change one thing you knew you couldn’t grow to appreciate like you had your body. You weren’t sure you’d ever be okay that Jake was with Maya. . . And that made it all feel so much worse. Because, no matter how hard you tried, you knew you’d still subconsciously compare yourself to her because of his relationship with her.

And the sounds through the walls, both cutesy conversation and sex. . . The displays at the kitchen counter. . . It got you in your head. Because Jake. Jake was in your head. Always.

It made perfect sense that he wanted to constantly be intimate with her. They were dating. She was hot. He was more than hot.

You grumbled, squeezing your eyelids shut to ignore the image of them fucking — it mocked you behind your eyes. Then, there they were again at the kitchen island. Jake with his head thrown back in pleasure, with Maya on her knees in front of him. . . her perfectly manicured, white pearl acrylics clutching his shirt.

You didn’t even want to think about the scratches those nails had made on the tanned skin of his back. How she probably marked his back with her pristine, almond-shaped nails. . .

Crazy. You were going to go crazy.

Because while you could fully understand why she’d wanted to fuck him constantly (you’d been there – still were there), you hated witnessing it in any way. Why did it have to be right next to you? Or in front of you at the kitchen counter? How in the fuck could you rid yourself of that?

Then, it dawned on you as you changed into a comfier bra. . .

There were rules. There were apartment rules. There’d been no conversation about taking those away. Whatever happened during those months in the summer between you two was exempt. You’d been involved with each other. But now things were back to the way they’d started. No romance (just confusing, minor incidents, really). You were back to being two roommates. . . with a baby.

Those rules you’d rambled off to him in the living room all those months ago hadn’t just evaporated. And Maya. . . she wasn’t the one blatantly disrespecting the rules that had been set for so long. Jake was doing that – not Maya. She didn’t know about them. But Jake sure as hell did. You were sure they were still posted on the kitchen fridge, under schedules and shit. Right under his nose and he didn’t even fucking care. And he wasn’t following them worth shit.

Technically, those still stood. . . right? Had to. A baby made between you two didn’t eliminate them. It actually made you feel more validated since you carried his baby now. You were the one literally living everyday as a pregnant woman for his baby. . . The least he could do was not fuck his stupid ass girlfriend on the kitchen counter. Or right next door.

And, in no time, Maya was sitting at the back of your mind. Didn’t care about her. She didn’t matter right now. No, it was Jake who was making you so mad you couldn’t see straight. . . What the fuck was his problem?

-🌼🌼🌼-

Later in the day, after allowing yourself a little nap after a nice long shower, you got ready for your study sesh with Theo.

You took extra time on your hair and makeup — decided you wanted to look good. Focus on something – someone else. You were desperate to get your mind off of Jake.

Truth be told, you’d accelerated at hyperspeed to a raging emotion since you’d undressed and stood in your room, being forced to listen to him go on about how beautiful his girlfriend was.

And, it just got worse as you had to wait far too long to hear little giggles and goodbyes fade out of the apartment. Finally, at Maya’s departure around 9:30, Jake’s door had closed . . .

By that point, you’d had plenty of time to stew and ponder. You’d pondered multiple ways Jake was pissing you the fuck off. . . Some, very valid. . . others, not even close (you were hormonal, okay?!). You’d piled on more reasons in the shower to be irate with him, too, aggressively shampooing your scalp.

You had to admit, riding a wave of emotion over Jake that didn’t leave you in a mess of tears was actually pretty fun. . .

You’d let your mind wander down aimless paths. By the time you were getting dressed and ready for studying, you were fuming. So much frustration with him. And right now? Jake’s selfish, crude behavior had your full attention. . .

Admittedly, you knew nearly everything you were feeling was thanks to a surge in pregnancy hormones. Those super-human hormones were making you see only red at the thought of him. And, ridiculously, you didn’t try to tame your thoughts. No, you decided to just ride. Wanted to ride the winding rollercoaster of emotion for as long as you could. It felt good to just be angry with him.

Was that a pregnant woman thing? Did it make you a bad person?

. . . Because, well, even if it did make you a bad person, you didn’t care.

But. . . As you finished your light mauve lipliner, layering on chapstick, you realized maybe you should care. Not for Jake’s sake. For the baby’s sake, you didn’t want to put any unnecessary stress on the sweet love growing in your tummy.

So, you’d devised your plan. A plan to get your mind off Jake. Something to maybe piss him off a little. God only knew how he’d pissed you off time and again. He needed a taste.

You just needed a solid distraction. And what better distraction than another man to prove to Jake that you could play at a game.

Just because you were pregnant didn’t mean you couldn’t do as he did. . . You know. . . .mess around like him. How he performed his little stunts for God and everybody to see and hear. . . Would he be okay with it if you did the same? It seemed like an interesting experiment.

The spiral of negative emotion towards him had started with how selfish he was being with the apartment rules. Because, yes you were just sick and tired of Jake and Maya flaunting their shit. That was the root of it. And when your mind had wandered just far enough to retaliate. . . you’d decided to push in to the urge.

You wanted your own thing to show off. . . Your own person to be obnoxious and publicly affectionate with you. And you had the perfect person in mind. . . someone who’d shown interest time after time. . . Going all the way back to sophomore year of high school. The very same person who was about to spend the next few hours with you to study.

Though, you couldn’t help but wonder. . . Even with how interested he’d been before, would he mind your pregnancy?

You figured to test it; there was no use in trying to hide your round belly from your (admittedly cute) study buddy. Hopefully he’d find you, as a pregnant woman, just as appealing as he did before he knew you were pregnant.

You’d decided on your dark brown jumpsuit, which complimented your body just right. With the weather being chillier, you decided on a tight white mock neck underneath. The jumpsuit was your new favorite piece of clothing. You hadn’t worn it out yet, but it actually fit your changing body well. You’d ordered a few failed attempts at a jumper like Gia’s, and you’d finally found one that fit your rapidly transforming body. The material of the suit was soft and stretchy, meaning it would be a go-to for the next several months.

It wasn’t even maternity – that was your favorite part! Outfits like the one you were eyeing yourself in kept you from having to wear clothes made exclusively for pregnant women. In fact, due to its incredibly flexible nature, you already had a few other colors by the same brand in your Amazon cart. . . Cute, comfy, and not made for pregnant ladies only.

The idea of wearing maternity clothing was still something you were warming up to. . . You’d discovered on BabyTok that a lot of expecting mothers hated wearing maternity clothes. The general consensus (that you agreed with) was that it made them feel even more ostracized when they already felt like your body wasn’t your own.

After having the full ensemble put together, you turned to glimpse at your ass in the suit, adjusting your gold jewelry as you turned back around to face the front.

You were beyond happy with what you saw.

Adorable and sexy all in one outfit. Your curves were being hugged in all of the right places: boobs, belly, butt. And, even then, the jumper still left some mystery with its looser parts. . . You felt confident.

The white sneakers and white mini crew socks added the ideal final touch, helping you to feel even more comfortable and excited by your outfit with the other trendy addition. (Thank you, blessed Target and your off-brand tennis shoes.)

The thought made you momentarily think about making a Target baby registry when the time came. Would Jake want to be involved in that? You wanted him to be. . . Ugh. You actually hated how badly you wanted him to be in the middle of all of it with you.

You were supposed to be mad at him!

As you slung your belt bag over your chest, you huffed at the thought, tightening your bag a little to balance just right over your bigger breasts. And, as you did so, your mind started drifting. Drifting to the same eyes you always had waiting for you at the back of your mind. The eyes you wanted looking at you, admiring you. . . They weren’t Theo’s. Not at all. These eyes were Amber-brown and darkened naturally when they took you in (rather, they used to darken at you).

Then, there were the calloused hands you wanted to meet you at the end of the day, in your bedroom, to help you take off this outfit. Piece. By. Piece.

You growled to yourself, readjusting the belt bag once more to not be so tight over your boobs.

Damn that fucker. Jake was like a thorn in your side—making his way into thoughts of yours without giving you a chance to combat it.

God, you just needed to focus on another man. Jake had Maya. You needed someone, too. Right? It was going to help. It would be an attempt, at the very least, to get your mind off of your baby’s (smoking hot) daddy.

Once more, you eyed your outfit – your little round belly, in particular. You loved how it stretched the material at your waist just enough to see there was a baby in there. . . your baby. How could you be so proud of a life that you hadn’t even held in your arms yet?

Your phone dinged from where it laid on your comforter. You walked to check it, finding a quick text from Theo to ask if you wanted him to pick you up. And. . . you agreed . . . It was the perfect start to your plan.

As soon as you sent it, though, you suddenly felt a solid moment of pause at the idea of dating another man while being pregnant with Jake’s baby.

You didn’t want anyone else. Really. You knew it. Your body grew instantly uncomfortable at the idea of someone else. You craved one person in particular and it was not Theo. . . but who’s to say it couldn’t be Theo? Or any other man, for that matter? It could be. It could. . .

If Jake was able to move on from you, you could move the fuck on from him, too.

So, with that thought, you ignored the pull towards Jake. Didn’t need him infiltrating your fresh state of mind.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once Theo had texted that he was about ten minutes away, you decided you’d make your way out to the living room.

But, of course, the other occupant of the living room at that moment was someone you did not intend on seeing. Didn’t want to see him. Jake, sitting on the couch watching some documentary.

He wasn’t wearing PJ’s on this gloomy, rainy Sunday afternoon, but rather a sexy ass outfit (What was he dressed up for? Could you not catch a fucking break?!).

Looking at him, all you could imagine was being held close enough to feel him hard, against your ass, hand cupping your breast just like you’d needed so badly. . .

Last night, he’d made you feel so many emotions. Two of which being seriously intense longing and lust. And he’d seemed to feel the exact same way. . .

. . .Only to go back to his room and make it no secret that he was fucking Maya into his mattress and not you.

He offered to come to you, y/n. . . a voice whispered, sounding like Elsie. It was something she would say. But, you already knew what you’d tell her. It was what you’d told him and what you’d been telling yourself.

It wasn’t right. Last night had been enough to make that apparent to you. . . and hopefully him, too. It would be a mistake and it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all to do that shit–even if the other person in the equation was someone you despised as much as you were growing to despise Maya.

But, alas, you had no ground to stand on. . . He wasn’t your boyf—.

Well, yeah, actually. You did have some ground. You would pull the motherfucking Baby Mama card if you had to.

You yanked a Canada Dry from the fridge before going to wait in the doorway for Theo.

Back to square one of being pissed with Jake. Hearing Maya outright crying and moaning his name repeatedly felt blasphemous (dramatic, but whatever). . . You were even more tired of hearing him – the same moans and groans that had once been your favorite sound. . . . You were just damn tired of it.

As you popped the can open to take a decent swig, you worked to convince yourself that it mostly annoyed you. Just because it kept you from getting enough sleep for you and a baby. But you knew, quite frankly, it was because you cared more than you should have about it.

What you didn’t care for was hearing said baby’s father fuck another woman any and every way she wanted.

Not when there was a time it had been you instead.

You let your eyes travel to him, sitting on the couch. The profile of his face was all you could see. The sharp outline of his jaw. . . The straight bridge of his nose, begging to be traced by your finger. His pretty mouth, lips slightly open before he licked them in anticipation at the screen in front of him.

Had he not noticed you? Or was he purposefully ignoring you? Whatever. It didn’t matter.

Even though it was wrong, you weren’t able to help the way your brain spiraled at the thoughts of endless summer days as you surveyed him. You thought of those blissful days where it had been you he was fucking so well you saw stars over and over again. . . leaving you with a dull ache between your legs from how fucking good he’d given it. . .

Ugh! No. You rubbed your thighs together, working to alleviate the thoughts that had your panties getting slightly damp. Motherfucker.

Because, again, everything you’d had to witness between him and Maya and he hadn’t even cared. . . . fucking jackass. Acted like he cared so much that day in the kitchen. Didn’t want to let go of what you’d had. But then he’d moved on to what had been patiently waiting for him. . . So fucking soon after. You hadn’t had time to catch your breath.

Truly. Fuck Jake Kiszka. The butterflies that jittered in your belly at your inappropriate thoughts were simply confused as hell. . .

“How you feeling today?” He asked, not looking away from the television, definitely sensing your presence behind him.

God. . . stop acting like you care.

“Fine,” you plainly stated, tone clipped, rubbing your belly briefly.

You looked away as soon as he turned his head in your direction, avoiding eye contact with him. But you could feel his eyes piercing burning holes in you from the couch. You busied yourself on your phone, ignoring him. You checked your Ovia app for the second time today.

“You sure about that?” He asked, his voice getting buried in the back of your mind as your eyes traced the new baby facts again.

Size of an avocado. Legs were officially longer than arms. . . could bend his or her knees and elbows now. . . Baby might be growing hair (would it be his color? Or yours?). . . Baby’s heart is still under construction but capable of pumping 25 quarts of blood a day. . .

You realized then and there that, in spite of how pissed you were with him, you wanted him to live all of this in real time with you – wanted to tell him all of these new things about the baby.

“Baby is the size of an avocado today,” you meekly stated, not wanting to get all mushy when you could have slapped him and felt fine with it.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? I just told you what,” you snapped your eyes over to him on the couch, but realized he was standing and gathering his bag of almonds and glass of water to head over your way.

You moved closer to the door, not caring to smell hints of sandalwood or vanilla or citrus or amber . . . whatever the fuck he’d chosen to use to smell sexy today.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head on his way to the kitchen.

You followed every one of his movements; watched him put the almonds in the pantry, then eyed his firm grip on the glass cup as he finished the drink off in one final sip. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he closed his eyes to savor it. You saw as a few drops from the drink slipped from the glass, down his chin, and all the way to his chest. Damn. Right down the middle of his perfectly toned and tanned pectoral muscles. When he went to wash it in the sink, you observed closely as he swiped under his plump bottom lip with his thumb to catch the remnants of water.

In no time, he was done washing the cup and facing you again. A tiny grin quirked on his lips and you realized it was probably because you still had your mouth open watching him. Quickly, you shut it and raised a brow at him.

“Don’t smile at me.” You sounded ridiculous, but you were trying to cover up your moment of staring at him. Didn’t want to seem weak.

“I apologize for smiling,” he responded, his eyes rolling with the words the slightest bit. “What were you saying before?”

“You seriously already forgot?”

“No. God,” he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was trying to spark the conversation to life again.”

“By acting like you forgot what I said?” Damn it all to hell – what was wrong with you?

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not,” you retorted, knowing better. You were upset. . . not about this, in particular. Just him. Just upset with him.

“Yes you are.”

“Stop,” you bit back, not wanting him to see through you. “If you would have just listened the first time and not asked me ‘what’, then we would already be done talki–,” growling with a huff, you frustratedly tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “I blatantly said that it was about the baby. You knew what I was talking about,” you looked down at your phone, doom scrolling on the app – looking at past and future weeks in your pregnancy. “Just listen better next time and you won’t have to talk to me for so long.”

Okay, now you were letting off that you were weak. You sounded pathetic. Were you really feeling insecure about that at the root of it all? Did you feel like he didn’t want to talk to you?

If you were being honest, you did feel like a burden and the tears accumulating in the back of your throat were proof of it. Part of you felt completely inadequate and like he couldn’t care. But. . . if logic was to speak and remind of what was real, you would realize he was the one that initiated the conversation in the first place. Of course he wanted to talk to you. . .

Or was he just being nice?

“Goddamn, yes ma’am. Sorry for my lack of rapt attention and preparedness. I’ll pay better attention next time,” he grit back. “Jesus Christ.”

You couldn’t blame his frustration. There was no denying you sounded crazy. This was becoming something it didn’t need to because you were grumpy with him and just generally hormonal.

Looking down, you thought you’d offer some sort of apology. There was no use in being completely unreasonable. “I’m sorry I’m being so moody and grumpy. These hormones are all over the place,” you reasoned, not wanting to divulge your complete irritation with him you’d sat on all afternoon.

You saw him move from your peripheral. Quickly, you came to terms with the fact that he was coming close enough for you to smell him, despite your efforts to avoid him. And if he didn’t smell more incredible than any other man to ever exist. . . fuck.

You looked up from where you’d started checking your nails, not able to deny his closeness. It spiked your heart rate. He was leaning his back against the counter, right next to where you stood by the door. Personal space was a foreign concept, apparently.

His eyes drifted over you, your skin flaming at the attention from him. His gaze skated over your figure – no doubt he was taking in the outfit. You felt pretty fuckin’ hot. This was the first time you’d felt genuinely pretty in a long time. You could only hope he saw you and thought so, too.

“You look fucking—wow,” he commented, his voice low enough for you to feel his words. “I can’t put it into words. But, damn, this outfit,” he smirked, nodding his head at you before letting his eyes land on your round belly with a soft smile before he looked at you. “I like how the baby looks in it, too.”

You blushed. That was sweet as hell.

“Thanks,” you sunk your eyes into his before letting your eyes rake his figure. If he could do it, you would, too.

He looked fine as hell in his all black outfit with that damn mustache coming in again. . . You could think of a few things that could settle an argument or two. You thought of him exposing your bare breast last night, his dick hard and pressing into your ass. . . . Wanted to feel him grind against you right now. Quite frankly, looking at him, all you wanted to do was lay across the kitchen counter and let him –.

No.

That was the same counter he’d betrayed your rules on. Dammit. You were so mad at him. Was it legitimate? You couldn’t tell. Hormones and shit.

The knock against the door was what broke you from your reverie, eyes having been locked on him for far too long.

“You goin’ somewhere?” He asked, folding his arms tighter across his chest. You didn’t look at his biceps or the jewelry on his hands and wrists. Didn’t think of the way his earring hung just right for you to see it through the thick tresses of his long, wavy hair.

Instead, you took those thoughts and turned them into another woman moaning his name.

Goddamn, y/n. He hasn’t fucking cheated on you. For God’s sake. Slow your damn roll.

“Yes,” you stated, moving to check your makeup in the living room mirror. When you reaffirmed why you felt so damn confident today, you unlocked the door, opening it so Jake could see for himself. He’d moved from his space at the counter, behind you, out of curiosity.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Theo’s grin took up his entire boyish face, his fresh haircut complimented his square jawline well. His excited energy fed the tense air perfectly. Just like you wanted.

“Oh. . . study buddy. . . I remember you,” Jake commented behind you. His tone was almost mocking, challenging the situation. “Making flashcards or some shit, I presume?”

“Depends, man. Might have other goals in mind for today. . .,” Theo winked in Jake’s direction, then yours. You couldn’t help the smirk that fell across your features at his response to Jake. “Little Miss Hot Thang here still needs to go on a date with me like she promised. Maybe we can talk about that, too,” he winked at you. Your eyes smiled, but your lips couldn’t quite reach them.

Little Miss Hot Thang? What?

Though, you had to applaud Theo, he was playing into what you’d wanted perfectly – his little crush on you was shining through. The little cocky lilt in his tone that seemed to be consistently present made your skin crawl just a bit, but you were mostly used to it after all of the studying and times you’d sat next to him in class.

Right now, you only cared to make a point to Jake, though, and Theo’s tone was a non-issue. Though, you hoped his words were clicking with Jake like you wanted them to.

“Oh, yeah? Wanna take her out on a date?” Jake snipped from behind you.

Your eyes twinkled at the sound of his response, tummy somersaulting at the edge in his voice.

It was like a scene playing out exactly as you’d want it to as the viewer. . . The only thing that sucked, though, was that even with the two handsome men standing on either side of you, your body was still only pulling you to the wrong one. The handsome one behind you, dressed in all black. The same one smelling like the most incredible mixture of sandalwood, vanilla, and amber. You caught a whiff of something new, too. . . A different cologne?

You wanted to sink into him. . . let him hold you again, just like he had on Friday.

You did not feel pulled at all to the one in front of you, dressed in his dark wash skinny jeans and a Pratt Football Alumni sweatshirt. The man you didn’t want, that you were about to flirt with even more. It made you less and less excited by the minute for what you were egging on. . . Did you even want it? Was this a stupid idea? You were simply encouraging it for the sole purpose of giving Jake a taste of his own medicine.

Was it worth it?

It made you question if you were sure you wanted to continue entertaining it if you knew you didn’t actually want him.

“Of course I want to take her on a date. You kidding?” Theo smiled, not assuming anything but the best of the situation, his eyes finding yours flirtatiously. “Who wouldn’t?”

You gave a sideways grin to him, feeling unsure of it all.

“And you’re sure she wants it, too?” Jake asked, challenging him with a scoff in his tone.

Suddenly irked by his questioning, you turned your head to the side to address him, still not fully looking at him. You relied solely on your turned head for him to acknowledge that you were speaking to him.

“Not your damn business, Jake,” you snapped, contemplating your next words. “But, yes, I would love to go on a date with him, if you must know. Just like old times.”

You tacked the last words onto the end for extra emphasis. . . . For extra emphasis on the web of fibs you were delicately weaving.

The words made Theo’s smile grow as he leaned towards you, tucking a lock of freshly curled hair behind your ear.

The action made your heart rate pick up – which made you think. Perhaps there was hope you could string this along—just for long enough to shut Jake out. If the tall blonde man was making your heart rate speed up now, he would continue to do that, right? Maybe this revisited ‘romance’ would actually turn into more. . .

Ugh. But was that what you wanted?

The answer was more than likely a big fat no. Fuck no.

Though, you did like what it was doing to Jake. Especially when you looked over your shoulder and saw the pink tinge that had enveloped the apples of his cheeks, how his jaw was set in tight tension. His eyes were trained on Theodore, observing him. Judging him. And when you saw the sudden flare of his nostrils, you knew.

This was making him angry. You’d go as far to say jealous, even. Could it be?

And as horrible as you knew it was, it felt way too fucking good.

“Just like old times?” He questioned, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at the man in the doorway.

“We dated in high school,” Theo answered for you, completely oblivious of Jake’s irritation towards him. For all he knew, Jake was just an asshole. Was he even picking up on Jake’s mood?

Better that he didn’t. You didn’t want him thinking there was anything more between you and your roommate; even though the baby growing in your belly said much differently. But you were sure Jake’s little perturbed act was something Theo would eventually catch onto. . . . so, you tried to get him off of the subject one more time.

Matching his level of irritation seemed the only possible solution to shut him up.

You turned fully around to face the long-haired man. His arms were crossed, hands wrapped tightly around his biceps and squeezing intermittently. You observed his handsome features for maybe one second too long, but you couldn’t help it. The beauty mark on his right cheek, along with a couple of tiny scars under his left cheek bone caught your eye – parts of his face you’d memorized months ago. His tanned skin was the perfect canvas for every single precious mark it honed. Would your child have any of the same freckles he did?

Not letting yourself get too lost in that devastating train of thought, you tried to catch his eyes and to no avail. He was hard pressed to intimidate your study buddy or some shit.

When you cleared your throat to gain his attention, his hard gaze finally landed on you rather than the poor, unassuming man in Pratt gear behind you. But. . . . you lost all ammunition to say anything hateful to him when his stare penetrated your own. The way his eyes bore into yours made your breath catch in your throat.

You were right before – you could read him well. And while he was obviously angry and (oddly) jealous. . . . you also sensed a tinge of hurt behind his darkened irises. You’d seen his eyes falter like this before. . . the way he would try to hide the hurt behind a sort of tough act.

“Jake,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. You didn’t know what you were trying to communicate to him, but you had a feeling he’d catch on to whatever it was.

He didn’t flinch away. No, he let you touch him, leaning into it the slightest bit. His eyes glimmered for the briefest moment, holding yours. . . . . Before he suddenly was moving away. You were losing him. And, instantly, you knew that the impending fling behind you was definitely not what you wanted.

God. What had your life come to?

“Alright, well, so be it,” the stark tone in his voice, along with the way his eyes stayed trained on yours, made your skin prick with goosebumps and all of your senses flare. “I suppose you’re right. Nothing you do truly is my business. Just as mine isn’t yours, right?”

Thankfully, his biting words made your skin flame once more in aggravation. You were mad at him. Right? You could fight those words.

You wanted to keep whatever upper hand you’d created, so you had to be quick with your next words. And actions.

You squinted at Jake, inhaling deeply and pursing your lips. Then, without taking another second to think it through, you turned once more. Leaning into Theo, you let your hand lay flat on his buff chest. The blonde then placed a sure hand on your hip, looking down at you with a raised brow and smirk. You sort of enjoyed it, but you also felt a little icky about it. Luckily, you knew how to keep face.

Looking over your shoulder once more to say something, the words caught in your throat when you saw his fists balled up, nails surely digging tiny abrasions in the palms of his hands.

You would venture to say his current feelings teetered on the edge of how you felt towards him and his girlfriend.

Feels great, doesn’t it, Jake?

Yeah. . . . . You were completely sure you wanted to play this little game. With the way he was reacting, you were getting curious to see just how far it could go. . .

From behind, you heard Jake shuffling away, his door closing a little louder than normal. A slam, yes, but not enough to alert Theo to anything going awry. The tall man’s blue-green eyes were sincerely sparkling as he grabbed hold of your hand gently.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You remembered you wanted to talk to Jake about the rules as you pulled out of the complex in Theo’s Mustang. His mouth was going a million miles a minute with shit you didn’t care much about. So, you used his personally-created distraction to your advantage and decided to text Jake about wanting to discuss something with him.

Might as well catch him while the fire’s hot. Maybe he’ll actually pay attention.

It took him a few minutes to respond. It made you momentarily question sending it to him after you’d just irked him as you had at the apartment.

Jake, 3:05 p.m.: oh. So you’re planning on coming back tonight, huh?

Your heart jumped in your throat. Motherfucker.

You, 3:05 p.m.: We are purely studying tonight.

Jake, 3:06 p.m.: is that what lover boy wants? A ‘pure’ little study date?

You glanced over at your classmate as your senses flamed with Jake’s words. Fuck him and his invasive questions. You locked your phone.

It was a good damn time to finally look up and acknowledge the other person in the car. You figured this, because as soon as you looked over to Theo, he was waiting on you, trying to include you in conversation. Just at that moment.

“Don’t you agree?”

Shit. Agree with what? You’d totally tuned him out.

“About. . .?” You trailed, feigning interest and trying to act like you were thinking of all of the things he’d said. “I’m still stuck on what you said earlier about. . .,” your eyes glanced at his Pratt sweatshirt. You cleared your throat, “About school.”

God, that was a step too far. Brave? Stupid? You didn’t even know if he’d mentioned school! Fuck.

But, you were relieved when he laughed, nodding his head as he went ahead at a green light. The smell of his Black Ice car freshener was almost too much for your pregnant super-senses.

“Yeah, me too. That professor is crazy!” He said, going ahead as the light changed. “No, but do you agree that this test is going to be a piece of cake?”

Wow. So he really had spent the past several minutes talking about school and a test? Shit. You had imagined there’d been more. Didn’t know why. It was Theo. He had a one-track-mind. He was all about school and Pratt.

Meanwhile, you weren’t even interested enough in school to carry a fully thought-out conversation about it, much less drone on and fucking on about it.

“Oh, yeah,” you knit your brows. “Piece of cake. We’ve got it in the bag.”

“So. . . you sure you don’t want to make tonight our date then?” He proposed, a blush rising in your cheeks with the lift of his brow. Oh.

Answer was. . . Yes. You were sure you didn’t want to go on a date tonight. Didn’t want to go on one at all, if you were honest. Or did you? With the way the blush hadn’t left your cheeks yet, you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about it at the moment.

It was confusing as hell. But, you’d dug your own grave. You had led him on.

Momentarily, you contemplated it. . . If you did it tonight, would that help you to get it over with sooner? Be rid of this guy who’d annoyed you more often than not in recent times?

Ugh. No. You couldn’t let it end after one night. You needed to drag it out.

“Why don’t we start with some studying and then we can talk a little more on that?” You tried, voice cracking a bit on the last word, feeling utterly unsure of it all.

“So . . . .,” he trailed, waiting for you to continue.

“So, I’d say we will find another night to have our date. Make it special,” you slapped a sweet grin on. Make it special? God, shut up, y/n. “I promise.”

His eyes shone, hand coming to grip yours. Fuck, yours were clammy as hell.

“Yeah, special,” he enthused, your stomach dropping at the word. “I like the sound of that, y/n.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you were finally home from your excursion, you could have sighed with the deepest relief. You’d have been lying if you said your social battery wasn’t drained. You’d worked to keep up with the flirtiness, acting flirty even when it felt completely unauthentic.

But. . . Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a moment to sigh with relief, being immediately met by Jake. Still awake and reading a book in the armchair. Didn’t want to make him suspicious of you being turned off by Theo in any way. You needed to convince him that you were interested in the jock.

You figured you might as well start off strong.

“I really like him,” you breathed the supposed lie, not able to contain the eye roll threatening to expose your charade.

Jake hmphed from his spot in the chair, not even caring to look up from his book. “Good for you, y/n.” His tone was a grumble as he never lifted his eyes from the page, in fact turning to the next page, more invested in the literature than you.

You turned to hang your belt bag next to the door, swishing your leftover Pink Drink after the bag was put away. When you walked to put the drink on a coaster in the living room, you looked over to Jake, who was still busy reading. Even though he seemed to be ignoring you, you suddenly wanted to spend some time with him. But, before you could get situated on the couch, you decided on going to your room to change.

As comfortable as your outfit had been, it still wasn’t sweatpants. And the basket of freshly clean clothes you’d left on your floor held your comfiest pair of sweatpants and your biggest Pratt sweatshirt, made of the softest cotton material. You were quickly unlacing your tennis shoes and stripping out of your jumper and undershirt and bra (good god, so uncomfortable). Once you were in the set of comfy clothes, you felt instant relief.

You’d kept your socks on, feeling abnormally chilly. December’s evening weather was still sticking to your skin. It was fucking nice to not be burning up hot.

With one last glance to the side, you grabbed your own book to read, sitting on your bedside table. One from your recent night out with Jake. You figured it wouldn’t hurt you to sit with him in the living room and read at the same time as he did. It had the potential to be a nice, calm setting.

Just before you could make it out of your bedroom, you went to grab your fluffy blanket from your bed – only to find Stevie snoozing away on it. Your heart swelled at her deep sleeping breaths, completely at peace. Being as you were not about to wake her, you just decided to head to the living room and use the blanket you kept in there.

Water was your first priority before a blanket, though. Your mouth had turned to sandpaper in the time between leaving the living room and walking from your room, back to the common area. You were always thirsty these days.

Though, as you went to grab your giant Stanley from where you’d left it earlier, you noticed it freshly washed next to the sink. What. . .? You hadn’t–? Jake must’ve done it.

Your heart tripped over itself. Why did he. . .? Finding your voice, you asked him. “Did you wash my Stanley?”

“Yeah, figured you’d be thirsty when you got home,” he called from the living room, just loud enough for you to hear in the quietness of your apartment. “You fill that giant ass thing up at least twice a day and down it like it’s nothing. And I hadn’t seen you fill it up even once before you left.”

But. . . . he’d been so angry when you’d left earlier? Why was he taking care of you and your things?

“I filled it up when I came out this morning,” you clarified, shocked that he’d noticed your routine of sorts. “But I didn’t get to finish it before I left. Got left on the counter for a Canada Dry,” you made a noise of realization, thinking how delicious one of those would taste right now, too.

When you went to grab the ice cold can, you got the most stereotypical pregnant girl craving. Ice cream.

And. . . you had absolutely zero of it.

“Dammit,” you said to yourself, shutting the freezer door in quiet resolution. In slight frustration, you huffed, blowing hair off your face.

You’d survive. Still really freakin’ sad, though. You could feel the pout making its way to your features all on its own – you couldn’t control it. The cravings came with a vengeance in recent weeks.

When you got to the living room, you fluffed the cozy blanket that you kept on the back of the couch, wrapping it around your shoulders. And in no time, you were sitting, tucking yourself as far into the couch as possible, making sure to lean against the arm of the couch that allowed you to see Jake.

What if you wanted to talk to him about something you learned about the baby as you read? You’d want to see his face to talk to him. And what was wrong with liking a nice view as you read?

As soon as you’d snuggled in with a pillow tucked just right behind your back to support you, you went to open your book, only to find a disappointing reality.

There was no book. No Stanley filled with water. Just the Canada Dry. You’d left your book and your Stanley (still unfilled, forgot to do that, too, you thought) on the kitchen counter.

“Fuck!” You griped to yourself, letting your head fall, placing your hands over your face. You’d just gotten comfy and now you’d have to get up again. Getting comfortable was becoming a chore.

The tears were coming. Dammit.

But, in almost no time, you felt a presence next to you, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Jake asked, nearby and your ears instantly tuning in to him, head still in your hands.

“Pregnant brain,” you mumbled, the words smooshed into an incoherent response.

“What?”

You sighed, bringing your hands to your cheeks to wipe any tears that might have made tracks. Luckily, most had fallen into your hands to avoid a mess of mascara. Though, Jake’s thumb came up briefly to wipe just under your right eye. His finger on your skin, so gentle and making your heart race.

There was no resentment in his eyes when you briefly caught them before looking away. It was as though earlier had never happened. No anger or irate energy between you two. Just compassion coming directly from the man next to you.

Then, his hand was gone, his arms crossing over the thigh, as he took a knee next to the couch. He had leaned in close enough that your head was fuzzy with the scent of him—he smelled so delicious. Although, that new fragrance to his cologne you’d smelled earlier. . . it was there again. What was it?

“New cologne?” You questioned, sniffing the onslaught of tears away.

“Doesn’t matter right now.”

“I wanna know.”

“Answer me first,” he insisted. “Why are you crying?”

You growled, irritated with his insistence. Looking over towards him, you locked eyes with his. Your heart leapt at how his eyes gazed back at yours. . . His stare was unwavering, showing just how much he cared.

“My pregnant brain,” you tried again, grumbling. The pouting still couldn’t be helped. “I forgot my fucking Stanley and book in the kitchen. And I just got comfortable,” you huffed, going to throw the blanket off from around you.

Jake’s hand came up, holding yours to stop you. “No, you stay. Let me get it.”

You didn’t have it in you to argue and not having to move sounded nice. His hand on yours also had you completely frozen. “Okay,” you whispered, eyes growing wet again at his kindness.

A loose grin spread across his pretty lips and he was gone at a moment’s notice to grab your things for you.

Your tummy fluttered at him, completely in awe of his gesture. Though, you shouldn’t have been. He kept doing things like this. Little things to help and show he cared. . .

Why were you upset with him again?

“Did you forget to fill the Stanley?” Jake questioned from the kitchen, your head snapping in his direction.

The tears were back, for God knows why. “Yes,” you cried. “I’m sorry you have to—.”

“Why are you sorry, honey?” he responded, inflection showing nothing but a genuine desire to help. “I’m here to help you. I told you this.”

Yeah, because Maya wants you to.

Aaand you were annoyed again.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, checking your less than pretty manicure. You could stand to have another done soon, the chipped black paint on your nails having seen better days.

In no time, he was walking back to you with the Stanley full and your book in his other hand. He was wrinkling his eyebrows, one raised a bit more than the other in curiosity at you. You felt how your face was still reading unhappiness. Thanks to your lovely thought process. But, then, your tummy rumbled (loudly), reminding you of the other reason you were cranky.

You flushed, embarrassed by the sound.

God, be a little more subtle, sweet baby. Please.

It had turned into even more than ice cream, though. You realized you hadn’t eaten since the morning and you were feeling it now. The ice cream didn’t even sound overwhelmingly delicious anymore. . . all you could do now was imagine how incredible a giant bowl of mixed melons would be with an even bigger bowl of pasta. Any kind. Every kind.

Damn. You really were going to have to get off this couch. Jake was not about to be your errand boy – you weren’t going to let him do that shit. It made you feel really bad to make him do all of the work and running around when you were fully capable.

You figured it would be best to save his willingness to help until you were further along. Lord knew he would get tired of this ‘helping’ thing eventually.

“You hungry?” He asked, sitting on the couch, alongside your stretched out legs. “I can get you whatever you–.”

“No,” you shook your head, moving to get up, managing to flip the blanket off of you this time without him stopping you. “I’m not going to make you do that shit.”

“You’re not making me do anything, y/n,” he said, emphasizing his kind words with another grin, this time laughing a bit to show his beautiful smile. “I want to do whatever I can to–.”

“Jake. That’s not fair to you,” you said, swinging your legs off the couch, abandoning the pillow supporting your achy back. This time, he did stop you again, placing his hand on your thigh, as soon as you’d been sitting next to him. His palm rested dangerously close to a place he shouldn’t be close to.

But, he wasn’t moving his hand and you sure as hell weren’t feeling an urge to move it. It felt so good to have him touching you again. And when he started rubbing gentle circles into the thickness of your thighs through your baggy sweatpants. . . Ugh.

Your mind flashed back to the kitchen, how he’d held you so close and massaged your breast. . . . the same way he was now massaging your thigh.

You were going to light on fire. . . with absolutely zero complaints. You’d die happy if you were set to flame by his touch alone.

Goddamn, y/n. Get it the fuck together.

Before you could immerse yourself any further into your thought process, your stomach made yet another animalistic sound you couldn’t control.

“God,” you shuddered, closing your eyes with a shake of your head. “That’s embarrassing.”

“How is it embarrassing?” He flashed his eyes at you, a dimple in his cheek with his words.

“Well, apparently the baby is just feeling the need to expose me from the inside out,” you complained, placing a hand to your heated forehead. “I can’t even fib and say I’m fine because you’d know I’m bullshitting you, thanks to our child.”

He chuckled, a sexy rasp to it. “I’m glad she’s exposing you because it helps me to know how I can assist you.”

“No, Jake,” you groaned, rubbing your temples with your pointer finger and thumb. “I already told you. . . I don’t want you being unfair to yourself. Don’t hyperextend yourself on my behalf.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat, contemplating what he wanted to say next as he clutched firmly to your thigh, with his other hand now holding his chin. Tapping a couple times with his pointer, he let go of his face and your leg at the same time. Your leg automatically felt the loss, in sudden desperate need of his touch again.

Leaning forward, elbows pressed to his firm thighs, you watched as the muscles in his back flexed so exquisitely through his favorite thin, white, cut up t-shirt. Same one he’d been wearing so long ago, the night in the bathroom. . . when Theo had been over for a stupid fucking study session. Studying had been utterly fucking pointless that night after how Jake had handled you in the bathroom.

You shook yourself of the memory, already feeling yourself beginning to pulse with desire at the memory alone. How did he have this motherfucking hold on you? No other man had ever done this to you. Was it because you were carrying his baby? Did that make it inherently worse or some shit?

Watching carefully, you noticed how his arms filled out the sleeves more-so now than they had before. . . the sight quickly brought you back to the present. He’d slowly put on a little bit of weight, in all of the best areas possible.

Happier than before, perhaps?

You licked your lips absently, appreciating his figure while he was so near to you.

And, as if on cue, your stomach started to grumble again. Fuck. Mocking you and your starving ass. . . suddenly hungry for much more than fruit and pasta and motherfuckin’ ice cream.

“It’s for the baby,” he finally said, after having stared into space for way too long. “Let me do it if it’s for the baby, at least. Please. It’s all I can do right now – help you to help her.”

Her. You wondered why he was so set on that gender.

More than that, though, you were wondering why it felt like an actual punch to the chest that he wasn’t wanting to help you for you. You didn’t want him to. You’d been through this mental battle many more times than you cared to admit. It was so selfish to think about yourself over the baby. Of course he’d want to help the baby. It had nothing to do with an obligation to you.

“It’s the best I can do for my baby at the moment, y/n. I’m not doing anything else tonight, so it’s the perfect opportuni–.”

Your stomach growled once more and you had absolutely zero energy to be argumentative.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh. “But, I am upset you’re doing all of this for me when there isn’t really a way I can repay you,” you remarked, getting up from your spot on the couch, stretching your limbs to loosen up as much as you could.

“Damn, my body hurts,” you mentioned, offhandedly. You were tense and your back wasn’t loving the extra weight getting added to your body by the day. Not to mention, your boobs felt so heavy — as always these days.

“Can we go somewhere to get stuff? Make it here or go out? I don’t care; we just don’t have what I want here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“Cool,” you grinned. “I’m sorry you have to–.”

“Don’t say sorry,” he groaned from deep in his throat, irritated but not irate.

You started a trek to your room to gather things to get ready when he made you stop in your tracks with one utterance of your name. “Y/n,” he started, tone stern. Right before you could walk away from the couch to grab your Chuck Taylors and put on a bra, you turned on your heel to observe him, ready to take whatever he had to say with as much ease as possible.

His tone sounded dangerous – your blood licked with desire at the commanding way he’d spoken your name.

You raised a brow, as if asking ‘what?’.

He continued, his eyes brightening when he got your attention, but he didn’t change the tone of his voice right away. It made your skin tingle. “I am the one who can’t begin to repay you.” Moving forward a couple steps, he held your cheek so delicately in his strong hand. “You’re growing my baby–our baby–every day. I can’t even begin to–,” he shook his head, dropping his hand as he went to cover his eyes, nose twitching with a light sniffle. When he looked up again, his eyes were threatening to let tears fall, but his voice was steady as he spoke. “You are not the one to worry about repayment. I don’t need anything in return for the things I’m doing to simply be there for you while you make a whole ass human being.”

The way your cheeks pinkened was uncontrollable. Hearing him say such intimate words was making your head spin. You wished those words could translate into him caring as much for you as he did the child you were carrying, but you knew there was a fat ass chance of that ever, ever happening. You’d given that up with him.

“You helped in making the little bean,” you replied, voice thicker than you expected, tacking a laugh to the end of your line. You hoped it distracted from the way your voice had held so much emotion.

Clearing your throat, you finally went to walk to your room. But, after walking halfway to your bedroom, you paused right before making it to the hallway from the living room.

Why, when you were just complaining of your aching body, were you about to go put on a damn bra?

“Would you mind if I went braless?” You asked, turning to your roommate, getting his opinion. Didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by any means.

Jake blinked a few times, having to cough a couple times to come to the question. Shit. Even the question alone had made him feel uneasy.

“It’s fine. I’ll go put one on,” you started, turning back around. Over your shoulder, you continued. “I don’t want to make you feel–.”

“I would rather you didn’t,” he said, voice husky, behind you.

The words made you stop in your tracks. You felt the muscles in your shoulders squeeze in anticipation at the words. Even when you knew nothing could come of his words, his opinions. . . you felt them everywhere.

Suddenly, you were back in the kitchen.

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

Then, he’d let go of your chest to move your strap to do what you’d so desperately wanted. Needed. Once it was draped over your shoulder, he had moved a hand slowly down over your tight sternum, into the front of your camisole. When he’d grazed his fingers over your oversensitive nipple, skirting over your breast to push your flimsy shirt down, you’d whined, knees buckling.

And, finally, as if you’d been waiting your whole life, he’d pulled your full breast out to touch the air.

The more you thought back on last night, you realized just how much he’d seemed to love your breasts. And, apparently, he wasn’t keeping it a secret from you since the incident.

“No use hiding that I like your tits, y/n. Always have. But. . . right now?” He began speaking in the present time, as if reading your thoughts. “I love how big and full they are. . . I love why they’re bigger. . .,” He sucked in a breath, the sound rattling through his teeth as his jaw clenched. There was no missing how he seemed to move in his black pants, adjusting his sudden. . . issue. You didn’t look down to watch him. Couldn’t. His voice was like velvet with his next words. “You should know how I feel about them after the way I touched you.”

Holy–.

Speechless. You were speechless. But, you had to say something in return, so you went with the first thing that came to your mind.

“Won’t wear one, then,” you sighed, breath caught in your lungs. Your panties were suddenly wet and sticking to you, close to you in a way you wanted him close to you. Did he want all of that? Or was it just your tits?

“Go wait in your room for me,” he’d whispered heatedly, his words piercing your heart at the anxious energy that had floated through your veins.

He had wanted it last night, but you’d rejected him. . . God.

But you literally couldn’t even imagine doing that.

You’d chosen to cut things off with him, and he’d moved on to Maya without a second thought. Any time you said no or stopped things (pre-pregnancy most definitely included), it was always her he chose. It was obvious who his heart always instantly wanted.

What tripped you up was the way he looked at you before he went to her. It was the same way he was drinking you in from the doorway at the moment.

Best to not overthink it.

Still, you couldn’t help what you said next. “I want you to be able to see what you like.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why do you think the baby’s a girl?”

You asked the question as he was driving the two of you home from Walmart.

After walking the aisles with the sole purpose of getting exactly what you were craving, you’d left the store with everything that you’d wanted at home.

With your pick of fruit, ice cream, and the specific type of pasta that sounded good (Penne, for some reason), he’d taken the lead on finding the ingredients for the sauce. All he had asked you was if tomato sauce sounded best or if something else sounded better. A tomato-based sauce sounded arguably more delicious, so you’d answered as such.

Once satisfied with your response, he’d gone full ‘Chef Mode’ and had promised that you wouldn’t be disappointed with his go-to, ‘staple tomato sauce’. You’d responded with your trust for his plan, giggling at his intensity as he narrowed down which ingredients would make the tastiest sauce.

And, of course, he hadn’t allowed you to lift a finger when loading everything into the back of his Jeep. He’d helped you up and out of the passenger seat both at home and at the store, noticing your struggle to keep your balance.

“I already told you. It’s just a feeling,” he responded, turning left down a prettier street on the 30-minute drive back home. You were passing a garden park, the streets lined with tall light posts, older with intricate detail to align with the quaint part of town.

Lavender. . . So much of it, sprawled out in the park’s grass. It made your heart clench in your chest.

You looked at him from the corner of your eye, raising a brow with a sarcastic, skeptical face he wasn’t going to see. “You’re sure it’s not anything more? Some secret you have of wanting to be a girl dad? Braid hair? Use all of the bows in her hair?”

“Well. . . I guess that’s sort of it. I love the idea of having a boy, too, though. . .,” he said, his voice lilting at the end of the sentence to emphasize his genuine response. He sighed, scratching the side of his nose once. “It’s just. . . I really like the idea of a baby girl who reminds me of you,” he peeked over at you for a brief moment, making your heart speed at the words and the way he was looking at you. His eyes were dark in the light of the car, but his tan skin glowed under the yellow street lights. “Seeing you in her soft features. . .it gets me. She’d have your nose, your smile, your dimples, your beautiful, innocent eyes–.”

“Innocent? Oh, Jacob. You know better than that,” you laughed heartily, the words coming so smoothly from your mouth. Even after awkward lulls in your relationship with him, it seemed you could go back to that easy feeling so seamlessly – you’d found that recently. It hurt your heart that moments like this couldn’t last forever. “You know much better than that, sir.”

“You’re right, I do,” he chuckled along, clearing his throat before he adjusted himself a bit in the seat, inconspicuously. You pretended not to notice. “You can definitely be a freaky little thing when you want.”

Blushing, you were yet again caught off guard by him being so blatant with you. He kept saying things that made your heart become a flurry in your chest. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it.

Not wanting to lose the moment, you responded with a question that tested the waters. You played into him, just a bit. “What was your favorite thing we did that was . . .freaky?”

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he made a sound that told you he was deep in thought. “Hm. . . That’s hard for me. . . we had a lot of sex in that span of– yeah,” he blew out a breath, once again trying to subtly move around in his seat. And, again, you acted as though you didn’t notice. “I’d say the day in the pool is a top three – top tier – moment.”

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“It was fuckin’ hot, I don’t know. . . I loved everything about it.” He blew out a breath, relaxing a bit against his seat as he brought a hand to rest at the top of his thigh. Dangerously close to his. . . .

You blinked as he started speaking again, switching your eyes back to his profile as he drove. “I think what turned me on the most, though, was that you were willing to give me head and ride me with everyone else so close,” he sucked in a sharp breath of air.

You caught sight of his hand, inching just the slightest bit closer to his crotch. His fingers were now splaying out to lay delicately against his zipper. Your eyes were trailing up his form just as he stopped at a stop sign. And without any preparation at all, he caught your eye as you watched him so closely.

Hot air caught in your lungs.

“Yeah. That was risky as fuck,” he finished, his eyes dark under the yellow street lights lining the road.

The way your heart lurched in your chest with the way he looked at you. . . . dammit. It made your breathing turn so heavy, filling up your lungs. When you breathed fully in, you puffed your chest out as you exhaled through your nose. And you would’ve been blind not to notice Jake’s eyes trail down. . . slowly. . . . to your full chest, staying there to admire what he saw.

In your peripheral vision, you noticed his hand inching. . . .closer. . .and closer to fully cup himself.

You didn’t dare look down, though — too afraid to break eye contact with him and suffocate the moment completely. But, before you could worry much more about it, he spoke.

“Fuck, y/n,” he rasped, his voice deeper and needy.

Surely this wasn’t happening again. . . . You couldn’t be tested like this again with him. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself this time.

Your cheeks were fully pink from hearing him say your name like that. It wasn’t new at all. No, you’d heard it many times before. He was desperate. Asking for help. Begging for it.

You’d come so close to each other the night before. . .

What happened next couldn’t be stopped if you tried.

Finally, you looked down to his hand to observe his predicament. And what you found made your body instantly, completely ready for him.

His thick shaft, straining against the tight black denim of his jeans . . . . The zipper of his jeans, aiding as well as it could in keeping him constrained. But it was no match for him.

The yellow street lamps above you created the perfect shadow to accentuate the sight before you. . . You could see the outline of him so incredibly well.

“Please, baby,” he whined, completely at your mercy.

What in the hell was going on? You didn’t know how it had suddenly escalated to this once again.

But, you knew you didn’t need any other word to convince you against what you wanted — needed — to do. He had taken such good care of you all night. . . You wanted a way to repay him.

Fuck Maya. You couldn’t help this. You were weak for him, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. The baby hormones were only making this ten times worse, you were sure.

Your hand, clammy yet purposeful in its movements, seemed to move in slow motion towards him.

And once you met his pants and settled a hand over where he needed you most, the car suddenly felt so small – too constricting. The hot air blowing from the vents was too much.

You felt your breath catch in your lungs right as he took in a harsh breath of air. Your skin tingled, your entire body covered in goosebumps, despite the warm car.

With baby hairs stuck to your damp forehead, you inhaled through your nose, letting your hand fully grasp his thickness. You felt his body shiver beneath your hand. You felt your own body react to the moment, clenching around nothing for him. Holding him through the denim was slightly difficult, but you did the best you could. Touching him like this again seemed unreal. Just holding him in your hand again like this. . . It was heavenly.

Though, you were finding as you squeezed just slightly, it was nothing like feeling the weight of it, bare in your hand. So, with a racing heart and soaking wet panties, you decided to make it happen.

With one hand still on his dick and the other on his belt buckle, you looked up to quickly gauge his reaction. His pupils were blown out, nearly filling his entire iris, glowing as he watched you under the old street post lamps.

You raised one brow, trying to school your features the best you could. But you knew there was no way you could honestly change the look of desire painting your features. Your heart hammered in your chest, your head light and airy.

“Can I. . .?” You breathed, the words almost stuck in your throat.

He cleared his throat and nodded his head a bit. “Yes, please,” he sighed, a whine at the end of please, while your hand absently stroked him. You watched his pretty face contort just the slightest bit any time you brushed the tip. He unbuckled his seatbelt, seeming to give the final go-ahead.

So, without any further direction, you moved the hand from his dick to unbuckle your seatbelt. The other hand stayed busy, unbuckling his leather belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

However, your seatbelt was not working in your favor, the latch stuck and not letting you pull the metal from the fastener.

“Goddammit!” You breathed in frustration, on the verge of tears at the fading opportunity and the stupid seatbelt ruining it all.

Without any words, you saw his hand come over, your gaze lingering on two purposeful digits pushing down on the red button to the fastener just right. Your breath caught.

The way your body buzzed at the sight, you knew you needed his hands on you, too. Needed him pushing those fingers into you, against you, rolling circles against you . . . .

Though, when you witnessed the seatbelt finally becoming undone, all thoughts for yourself were flying out the window. All you could think was that you were that much closer to seeing him. Holding him in your hand. Doing whatever this was with him.

Your panties were uncomfortably soaked when you resituated to lean over the gear shift. Though, when you did this, you remembered a new obstruction that you had to adjust with to get the position just right.

Your belly grazed the handle of the gearshift and you suddenly weren’t looking forward to having to lean over it. Though, within seconds, without having to be told, a hand came over — same hand that unbuckled the seatbelt — to shift the car into park. But after he was done, he kept it there, hand covering the gearshift to make it more comfortable for you to adjust.

Tears pricked your eyes when you glanced up at him under bashful lashes. “Thanks,” you muttered with a blush, leaning just a little further over to continue getting his pants undone.

“‘Course,” he replied, voice soft underneath the need. Genuinely concerned, he asked, “Is that better?”

“Yes. Much better,” you answered, no question to your tone.

When your hands finally got his belt buckle undone, you could have cheered with excitement. But, you kept it all to yourself as you unbuttoned his pants, wanting the moment to stay calm and warm and gentle.

Or did you want it to be gentle?

Before you could do anything else, your back started to feel the new weight that hung in front of you. This position, in the cramped car, wasn’t the best. You arched it, just a little, to try to relieve some pressure. You’d deal with the pain for a bit, though. . . For this — needed this.

What you didn’t want to deal with was having to get his jeans off. Not tonight. Not with your back beginning to ache the way it was. So, you simply pulled the zipper down, and with one more heated stare up at him through your lashes, you tucked a hand down into his pants. He didn’t take his eyes from yours.

Your gaze never wavered as you continued from the band of his boxer briefs, down further to finally have your hand meet his smooth, pink tip.

His eyes dared to flutter shut, but he kept them on you. His lips opened slightly to release a whine mixed with a guttural moan. And his stare. . . It was hot, heating your body all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He eyed you, almost possessively. It made your head spin and skin prick with desire for more – you were aching in your panties for him. He swallowed thickly, not daring to tear his eyes off of you for even a second.

You skated your hand to pay proper attention to the pillowy soft tip you could feel beneath your fingertips. Your touch was light at first as you stroked it, but you quickly went to massage it skillfully with your thumb, remembering how he liked that. You made sure to trace the delicately crease underneath it, watching how it made his body tremble.

Moving carefully, you spread the healthy amount of precum over the pillowy head of his thick shaft. His hips rutted up towards you, showing you how much he was enjoying it.

The deep moan he released made your legs clench together and your own moan released of its own volition from your mouth, under your breath. His sound was accompanied by the sight of his head, thrown back as much as he could, while still keeping his eyes trained on you. The sound and sight would be forever sealed in your memory.

With the jeans constricting your movements, you continued to handle his girth the best you could. His heated flesh, dick rock-hard and the skin of it so soft. . . You continued further down from the head, letting your line of sight finally trail down to his pants.

When you looked down, you were met with the sight of his dick, beginning to peek out from the top of his jeans. You’d pushed the pants down a little to access him, apparently, and it’d made the pretty pink tip of him almost fully visible.

It made your heart flip and tummy hurt to see him like that, swollen tip shiny under the dim lights from his arousal. He was so thick and ready — only a small view of him waiting, just above the waistband of his briefs.

You decided you’d take further advantage of the new access you’d created when you’d apparently pushed his jeans down. But, before you could go any further, you decided to wet your hand with some saliva. Wanted it to be as pleasurable for him as it could be.

Though, when you moved your body back and removed your hand from him, the strangled cry he emitted had your breath rattling in your chest.

“Don’t stop,” he whined, exhausted and needy for you.

You reached forward, eyes dark and trained on him. Grabbing his chin, you made him watch as you spit into your other hand.

His eyes flickered, jaw set as he knew what was coming. His breaths were sharp and labored, chest huffing as he waited for what was next.

And, just as your hand was on its way down to his pants, you changed your mind.

You wanted more. Yeah, you loved touching him with your hands, but there was something you liked much, much better. . .

With one swift movement, you skillfully rebalanced in your seat to have your knees in it as you bent completely over him. Your belly came to lean on his outstretched arm, the one belonging to the hand still holding the gear shift.

Hurriedly, you brought your hair behind your head and twisted it into a makeshift ponytail. Pushing back the sleeves of your sweatshirt, you knew the jeans were officially coming further down for the next part.

You tapped his thigh and he got the hint. Lifting his hips, he moved the left side of his waistband down as you took care of the right. And, finally, he was springing free from the black briefs.

Dear God — you’d forgotten just how pretty. . . .

Not wanting to waste another second, you grasped the hair at your neck as the other hand delicately grabbed hold of his length. You positioned it, just right. . . . And then, your lips were kissing his tip delicately before your wet mouth sank down over him.

You would never be able to find the proper words to describe how Jake Kiszka’s dick felt, laying heavy against your tongue. Going almost fully down once, you felt him hit the back of your throat. He cried your name, his free hand coming down to squeeze his thigh. Your eyes watered, lips not quite touching the bottom of his belly.

Once you were sure you had wet his dick completely with your mouth, you bobbed your head languidly, giving him long and slow licks. You savored every last inch of him with your tongue, moving a hand to cup where his balls sat in his pants.

His breath stuttered, a low sound released from the pit of his chest. “Holy fuck. I’ve missed you.”

The words were said softly, not so needily. . . You almost stopped to acknowledge them, but decided against it. It seemed best to ignore the words for now.

So, continuing, you let your tongue lick once more from the base of his dick all the way back to the tip. You grasped his shaft once more in your hand, giving him a few pumps, skimming the underside of the head with the tip of your tongue at the same time.

But, after feeling his thighs shake and hearing your name fall from his lips, you switched your course of action. Not yet.

With one final stroke of your tongue in the crease, you enveloped his throbbing tip in your mouth. After sucking on him for a minute, you went to move to the top of the head and curled your tongue around and into the slit at the peak of it. You licked every last piece of his earlier pre-release from him, wanting to savor it all for yourself.

Without warning, the sound of a horn blaring behind the Jeep, a car having come up — jolted you. The car’s lights were bright, bright enough to blind you and seemingly catch you in the act. So, you stopped at a moment’s notice, shuffling to wipe your mouth and get settled back down in your seat.

Jake took a while to come back to reality. As you buckled back into your seat, you kept an eye on him as he snapped out of it, blinking rapidly. His eyes averted from where they’d been and he used his hands to pull his pants back up, dick still hard with no relief.

Your heart fell as you watched him put himself away, tucking everything back where it belonged, adjusting. He went as fast as he could to buckle his belt, the car behind you honking once more.

“Fuck off,” you mumbled under your breath. “Be patient.”

Jake apparently hadn’t heard your reprimand to the car behind you. He just kept doing what he was doing, trying hard to get his shit together. After sliding his seatbelt back over his chest and lap, he lifted his hips in his seat to settle back in place, one hand clutching the top of the wheel.

He didn’t look your way, just kept his eyes trained forward. Wanted to seem inconspicuous to the car behind you, it seemed.

Following his lead, you turned, breathing hard and facing the front of the Jeep. You wiped your mouth, fluffing your hair back over your shoulder and pulled your sweatshirt sleeves down. The way your heart was beating in your chest was enough to make your heart monitor go off, but surprisingly it stayed silent.

You silently thanked it, not needing any more unwelcome interruption to the previous moment. Needed time to reset.

What the fuck had just happened?

You kept your eyes ahead, observing through the windshield.

The windshield was so clean, it looked as though it wasn’t even there. He obviously cared a lot for this car to keep it looking so nice. You liked how he liked things being kept in good condition. He paid attention.

Speaking of attention, you brought your mind back to the matter at hand before. . . . Trying your best to respond after everything that had just happened.

“The pool was pretty risky. You’re right,” you laughed breathily, still trying to deflate your stuffy airways. But I think that moment just beat it — risky for more reasons than one. . .

Thankfully, he wasn’t acting strange. He actually chuckled along with you, huffing under his heavy breaths. “Yeah.”

When you inhaled and exhaled again, it felt closer to full and even. You felt a faint smile find your lips.

You tried to refocus your brain. You’d think about how he’d felt against your tongue later. Or maybe you didn’t have to think about it. . . It honestly seemed so natural, it was like going back to normal. So strange. Or was it?

So, you went back to what he’d been talking about prior. . . It was making you think. Really think. Had you sort of wanted the guys to find out? By god. . . With a little contented sigh, you continued, “. . . You know, maybe I always secretly wanted them to know.”

“Wanted who to know what?” He sighed heavily, his breathing evening out next to you.

“I think I sort of wanted the guys to just find out. Might’ve made it easier to deal with if they just happened to see,” you explained, talking your own mind through the new train of thought. But. . . there was a reason it had been kept secret. “I just-just couldn’t get past the thought of Josh being upset with me.”

“Why would he have been upset with you?”

You could feel his stare piercing through you. Though, you kept your line of sight trained on a few drops of dried rain on his windshield. Didn’t dare look his way.

“I can’t get into all of that right now.”

You thought of everything Josh had said that kept you from pursuing things any further than you had. How he’d been so protective of his brother before you’d even gotten to know Jake at all. . . He wanted the best for Jake and you knew now, deep down, that you could do him nothing but harm. You weren’t the pick for a man who needed a woman who was good, all the way down to the soul. . . .there was too much that kept you from feeling safe for others. You were not pure enough for someone as dreamy and brilliant as Jake.

Your stomach suddenly hurt at the thought of what had just occurred. . . The guilt began to eat at you. You didn’t want him to lose someone good for him because of dumb sexual urges. But were they dumb urges? Or fully understandable and expected?

Fuck. You didn't know.

What you did know was that Maya was real. She was his girlfriend. She should be the only one doing what you just did. . .

No matter how much you cared for him and wanted him, Maya had been the right one for him all along.

As much as you despised her, she was a sweet woman who treated Jake very well. You saw it in her eyes, the way she’d mess with his hair, hold his hand, sit on his lap. . . They clicked in a way you could only hope to click with someone so illustrious as Jake Kiszka.

They got each other in a way you thought you had gotten him, months ago. . . but that thing between you two had been temporary – you’d known so all along.

And, chances were, he’d been seeing her the entire time anyway.

You felt sick at it all.

There was no way you alone were good enough for him. God, he was just so precious and unique in every way imaginable.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to. It’s the past now,” he reasoned, cracking your heart a little more in your chest. “I still reminisce, though.”

“Me too,” you whispered, tears stuck in the hollow of your throat. “I have a slight disagreement with you about something, though.”

He wrinkled his brow, turning to look both ways before going straight. He caught your eyes when he looked in your direction, and turned a wrinkled brow into a raised one.

“The baby has to have your smile and your eyes,” you reasoned, watching him as he continued straight. “Boy or girl. I’ve wanted those features on this baby’s face for a long time – since the moment I let myself think that far.” You weren’t about to tell him that his smile and his eyes were the sole reason you’d decided to keep the baby that day, on the way to the abortion clinic. The two intricate, incredible parts of his face that showed him – showed just how much of a gift he was to the world.

The same sort of gift you wanted to give the world, in his baby.

“We’ll see who wins their pick.”

“Mama gets first vote.”

“That’s fair,” he responded, flashing the same exact grin you imagined every day for your child.

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was raining again when you got home. The late-autumn, early-winter thunderstorm, a calming vibe for the apartment as Jake cooked in the kitchen.

The smell of italian seasonings and tomato sauce were heavenly, the pitter-pattering of rain against the kitchen window was marvelous. And the fact that you were casually hanging out with Jake? That was beyond the way either of the latter could make you feel.

(The fact that you’d had his dick in your mouth less than two hours ago was something you were trying to put far out of your mind for the time being.)

“Did you have plans tonight?” You wondered aloud, letting the words traipse out of your mouth on their own as you dried a dish with an already-dampened towel, having been working through your task as you waited on dinner. Jake was cooking the sauce and the pasta, and as he dirtied a dish or utensil from cooking, you’d clean it, dry it, and put it away.

He hadn’t wanted you to lift a finger, but after putting your foot down and giving him a look, he’d relented.

“Noticed you dressed up earlier,” you continued, putting a mixing bowl back in the cabinet.

Why were you asking this? You were just asking to be hurt by him saying he’d been with—.

“Yeah, meeting with the label execs,” he replied, moving the seasonings around in the minced onions, garlic, and green pepper, searing hot in the saucier; the new addition of garlic made your nose tingle with eagerness to eat. “Went well. Talked album release and all that shit.”

You watched him, his beautiful hair now meeting the tops of his shoulder blades. . . And, if you were being honest, you could’ve sighed with relief at the idea of him not being with Maya earlier tonight. Which. . . was admittedly unfair of you since you’d been out with another man earlier that day.

Yes, y/n. It’s not fair. And Jake’s relationship is not your business anymore, a gentle voice reminded you. You’re the one who called it quits and you have to be okay with not being the one he chooses. Who he chooses to spend his time with shouldn’t matter. . . No matter what you get yourself into. . .

Snapping from your thought, you noticed him reaching for one more tomato on the counter next to him. You could tell he was looking for the cutting board and knife, but he wasn’t going to find them as you’d already cleaned them.

Without having to be asked, you went ahead and got them back out for him.

His eyebrows were turned in with confusion as you placed them on the counter next to him, one brow raising with appreciation. “You’ve already washed them? I’m impressed – just used them,” he laughed under his breath, going about his task with chopping the red fruit. “I’m sorry to dirty them again.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you grinned, deciding to take a break. You washed your hands and dried them before leaning against the counter to watch him cook, glancing at the glowing green time of 9:33 p.m. on the stove. “You’re making dinner for me way later than you should be having to–you shouldn’t be–,” you stopped yourself, shaking your head. You knew how he’d disagree with your statement. “. . . I’m just trying to keep up with your mad chef skills. Professional chef, meet your professional dish-washer,” you bowed dramatically, only bending so far with the slightly protruding tummy at your waist.

When you rose up and pushed your back against the counter again, you laced both hands under your tummy and looked over at him. His dimple, fully present in his cheek with a bright grin lighting up his features. “You are so fucking cute,” he said, almost as if he couldn’t help it.

The little comment made your heart warm for like five seconds, but then he was turning to the island behind him to grab some salt for the tomato mixture cooking on the stove. It smelled heavenly, by the way – perfectly ripe tomatoes sizzling in olive oil with fresh vegetables, parsley, and cilantro. . .

But, as enticingly savory as the smell was. . . your eyes were still glued to the island.

Everything from your afternoon of contemplation was hurtling at full speed back into your mind.

Maya, on her knees. Jake, moaning. You, having to watch. As much as his relationship wasn’t your business, your apartment and its rules were.

And, in spite of what had happened in his car — or all of the sweet things he’d said tonight and the incredibly kind thing he was doing for you at the present moment. . .

You knew you had to bring up. You’d texted him about it earlier and everything. If you didn’t say anything about it now, you knew your pregnant brain would let you forget again.

It was also probably best to bring it up for another reason. A reality check. Because, as wrong as the action was to do out in the open, it wasn’t wrong for him to be doing it. It was wrong what happened in the Jeep. As much as it broke you. Your buzzing hormones were screaming at you.

It was wrong for him to treat you like anything more than a friend. Yes, you were carrying his child, but he had a girlfriend.

So, saying something about the instance might help to remind him that he had a girlfriend. . . And that you weren’t her.

You needed to bring her back in the discussion – as much as you fucking hated it, it was real life.

“I, um. . .,” you started, looking at your polish-less toenails. You really needed a self-care day. Both types of nail beds were looking terrible. Task at hand, y/n. “Jake, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What’s up?” He replied, voice open and ready to receive it.

You hoped he was ready to hear you and would understand where you were coming from.

“On, uh, on Thanksgiving. . . I–,” you struggled to begin. But, you had to spit it out. Had to get your point made. So, you trudged through. You let the image that was stained in your brian fuel you to say the words exactly as they needed to be said. Letting your back go straighter, and pushing your chest out with purpose, you asserted your claim. “I walked in on Maya and you. You, um, were pushed against the island,” you let your eyes trail there of their own volition. It spurred you on. “She was on her knees. It was obvious what was happening. And I don’t really think that it aligns with–.”

“With the rules,” he finished, sighing in a reflective sort of way. “Yeah, I know.”

You were shocked. He remembered? Then why–?

“Why did you let it happen then?” You asked, still not looking up at him, burning holes into the counter he’d been leant against as her mouth made lewd sounds, echoing in the small space even now. The image was absolutely unwelcome in every sense of the word.

“I was feeling the moment,” he sighed. You heard a burner click down and his own feet slide against the floor.

Looking back at your own feet, you caught a glimpse of his feet . . . facing yours. Ironically, you couldn’t help the New Girl reference spurring in your brain.

“A guy’s feet point at what they want, and his feet were pointing at you.” Cece’s voice was setting off tiny alarm bells in your head. Your heart rate picked up a bit at the idea of it – was this how Jess felt during that entire episode?

Then, you thought about how similarly Maya looked to Cece and you were sick to your stomach all over again. Fuck. She really did ruin everything. And you hated with a burning passion how aggravatingly stunning she was.

“Well, it may be best to not ‘feel the moment’ in the middle of the apartment,” you replied, your faster heart rate encouraging you to spit the words out. Finally, your eyes flicked up to him, only to find his eyes trained on the ground as well, and a blush on his cheeks. “There are rules for a reason, Jake. You agreed to them.”

You continued. “And not only did you break the rule about common spaces, you’ve also been having loud sex right next door while I try to sleep and I– it’s not good for me or the baby and–.”

“I’m sorry. I will tell her to be quieter.”

“I can hear you, too, Jacob.”

“Well, then. . . we’ll work on that.”

“Work on it?”

“Yeah. We’ll try to–.”

“You won’t try, Jake. You’ll just do. . . Just be quiet. Damn. It’s not rocket science.”

“Goddamn, y/n. I understand,” he replied, shaking his head as he glanced at you once and then back at the ground. “And I’m so damn sorry my responses are lacking today.”

Silence. It dragged for a minute or two — long enough for him to go back to checking the sauce, then coming back to face across from you again.

This was officially the longest day in history. You were tired of it. But, you also didn’t want it to be over. . . You’d liked spending so much time with him.

“How would you feel if you heard me next door having loud sex with someone?”

“I wouldn’t—,” he started, grumbling, jaw tense. “It’s not my business.”

“Didn’t ask if it was your business. I asked how you’d feel. Would it make you feel uncomfortable at all?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Why am I a liar?”

“Because, Jake, even if we didn’t have a past,” you placed an absentminded hand on your tummy. His eyes flickered down at the motion, but almost instantly found their way back to your face. “Loud sex makes other people feel uncomfortable.”

“Not me.”

“Want me to test your assumption? I could invite someone over and make sure to have the loudest sex to see how it makes you fee–.”

“No,” he responded, with no hesitation. “Well, not no. You can do whatever the hell you want– I just– fuck. I wouldn’t like it, y/n. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I want you to be honest.”

“I wouldn’t like hearing you fuck someone else,” he insisted without another thought, voice low with eyes dark enough to make your head swirl and your chest heat. “Especially while you’re pregnant with my baby.”

Your heart thumped a million miles a minute in your chest. Again, your heart monitor apparently let you have the moment. “Well, I don’t like hearing my baby’s daddy moaning another woman’s name. And I especially don’t like seeing him getting sucked off by said woman either,” your words were true and harsh as they slid off your tongue. It felt good to say them. Have them out in the open.

“We’ll adjust it. I’ll talk to her.”

More silence. But, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

No, this was literally just a conversation. A conversation that needed to be had, between two people who knew each other well enough to make a damn baby.

As he checked the food once more, he flicked off the burners completely and slid the pans back to begin to cool a bit. He placed the sauce pan on the warmer. You just watched him – focused on the fact that he was right here, so present. . . .and all you wanted to do was kiss him. Even more than pulling his pants down again, you just wanted to wrap your arms around him and kiss him.

He was once again across from you, closer this time. You caught sight of his hands, nearing your face. And, just before he could gently grasp your face in his hands, he dropped them.

Backing up a bit, towards the oven, his eyes softened. His gaze settled on you in a way that made you want to curl up in him and cry. “You ready to eat?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

“Are you going to . . .?”

Her eyebrows wrinkled, questioning. She was nearly sleepwalking, her eyelids barely open. I knew she was tired and beyond ready for bed. It was selfish of me to ask, but I had to before I lost the fucking nerve.

“Are you going to have sex here?” I clarified, clearing my throat.

She scoffed, but a gentle smile stayed on her pretty face. “That isn’t your business, Jake. What is your business is that it won’t be loud if it happens. And I won’t be doing it out in spaces that you can see.”

At her words came the most unpleasant feeling. . . . and the sight I imagined – it made my stomach turn and my skin heat with jealousy.

Instead of Maya and me at that damn island, I saw y/n and that fuckass Theo guy. . . Him, towering over her. Her round belly, carrying my baby, being held in his football-playing hands as he pounded into her from behind.

He would be making her his in a way I sure as fuck didn’t want her to be. The way I knew how her delicate eyebrows would sink in at the feeling of him inside of her. . . the way her body would be giving in to him, soft, tight, and ready.

The way she’d moan like she did tonight as she sucked me off. . . . Fuck.

And the sounds she’d make. . . I knew the exact noises that would come from her mouth if he was fucking her– the wet sounds from her pretty pussy. . . I knew every single sound like the back of my hand. I’d elicited them from her over and over again for two of the most astounding months of my life.

I could practically feel her clenching around me at the thought. . . the way her body would basically give out with certain positions or motions of my hips. . . . and how she’d become absolute putty in my hands as her release climbed up her spine and spilled over my dick. . .

My dick twitched in my pants, but I tried like hell to stop it.

Hell. This was hell.

And the thoughts were damn near crippling me.

But she was right. It wasn’t my fucking business. I’d told her the same damn thing earlier. Fuck me.

As wrong as it felt for another man to be fucking the mother of my child, I had proven with my relationship and careless actions in it that I had moved on. Though, I hadn’t moved on. I wasn’t moving on. I thought I had been, but then. . . the moment I truly stopped to think about her being pregnant, that first night I’d known. . . I’d known for a damned well fact that I hadn’t moved on worth shit.

Poor Maya. I honestly felt like I was using her at this point. But. . . I did love her. Or so I had convinced myself over the time we’d been dating.

I was just desperate to cling to a woman who hadn’t hurt me. I was so tired of it, and Maya would never. She only ever wanted to please. And that felt so damn good.

“Okay,” was all I could respond with, through my clenched teeth. It was a pathetic response.

She breathed in deeply, her beautiful chest expanding under her sweatshirt. I could see her nipples, hard and ready beneath the thick material. Sweet hell. Was it for me? Or was it for him? Or. . . worse. . . was it for no one and her body was just always ready these days? Was that what happened to women when they were pregnant?

Was that why she’d suddenly been so eager tonight to throw away the morals she’d had just last night? Was a raging, uncontrollable libido to blame for what happened in my car tonight?

Fuck, I needed to do more research. I knew exactly what I’d be looking into tonight. . .

. . .After I finished what she’d started earlier.

“Okay,” she sighed, going to turn towards her bedroom.

“Does he know?” I couldn’t help but wonder, pushing the conversation further.

She didn’t even have to ask who. Because there was only one man in her sights and we both knew who the fuck the man was. Goddamn this guy. I hated him. Barely knew him, but I knew he wasn’t anything near what –who– she needed.

“Yes,” she replied, resolute. Turning, she rested her beautiful, curvy body against her door frame. “Telling him about the baby went well, actually.”

“When did you tell him?”

“Tonight. Told him when we got to the coffee shop,” she detailed, clasping her hands under her belly to hold it. Damn, I could watch her all day long. “He was bound to find out soon enough. I feel like I’m getting bigger every single day – already kind of giving it away.”

Fuck if I know it, baby. . .

Instead of saying the words aloud, all I did was nod and take in a steady breath through my nose and let it out slowly from deep in my chest. Her eyes trailed to my chest with the motion and I felt a moment of hope that she still wanted me as badly as she had in the kitchen. . . Even more so how she’d wanted me tonight.

All of the blood in my body was rushing towards my dick at the thought of her wet body in my arms last night, her hands and mouth on me in the Jeep. . .

Her see -through tank top. . . the way her swollen tits tempted to spill from the top of the shirt. . . how close I’d been to holding her full breast in my hand. . . her nipples, peaked so prettily and showing perfectly through the soaking wet cotton. She’d been ready. I knew her body.

And tonight. . . .? I couldn’t even get started on that.

I was just so confused. Just last night, she’d left and had refused me coming to her room. But tonight she’d taken the initiative to put her damn mouth on me.

After last night and tonight, I could throw Maya on her ass and not feel bad about it. Well, maybe a little bad.

Damn, it was shitty to admit it. Though, it somehow felt even shittier to go take out on her what I only wanted to do to y/n. . . And that had been exactly what I’d done.

“Is there anything else you need before I go to bed? I’m about to fall asleep standing up,” she blinked slowly, sleepily. . . so fucking cute. All I wanted to do right now was follow her to bed and make her sigh my name. . . Then, hold her in my arms afterward, watching her fall into a hopefully blissful sleep. . .

“No,” I cleared my throat. “Is there anything else I can do for you to make your night easier?”

“You’ve done just about everything you could’ve done, Jake,” she replied, smiling the most serenely beautiful, tired grin. . . her lips, tempting me to kiss her. The blush on her cheeks, pulling me closer.

But, all too soon, she was opening the door all the way to her bedroom, walking in and turning once more to look at me through the crack she’d made with the door. “‘Night.”

“Goodnight,” I muttered, in a daze caused by her beauty alone. Her pretty lips. Her body. Her face. Just her.

Damn. I was letting myself in too deep. Again.

It had happened without me fully realizing it. I’d just started falling for her again (Had I ever stopped? Or had I just been hurt?).

I hadn’t even let myself pause to think about how it could bite me in the ass.

But. . . did I care if it bit me in the ass? I wasn’t with y/n. . . I had a girlfriend. If all went to shit, I had Maya to lean back on. It was shitty for me to think like that, but damn.

Though, I couldn’t help but think. . . There wasn’t any harm in listening to my heart and simply being helpful and kind to the woman carrying my child. However that may look, I could be there for her. Right? I had a soft spot for her – I probably always would.

It was y/n. Even if she wasn’t pregnant with my kid, I’d always look at her a little more tenderly than most other people – well, all other people. She’d carved a place in my heart from the first moment I’d seen her.

There was truly no one like her.

Never would be.

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

A week later, you were hoping to slide out of class without attracting Theo’s attention, but he’d caught you and followed you all the way out to your damn car.

And, of course, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about one particular thing you really didn’t want to talk to him about. Something that definitely wasn’t his business, even though he was trying like hell to make it that way.

It was your decision to lead him on, a voice tenderly reminded you. And you’re still going on that date with him. You promised you would. You have to put up with him for at least a little while longer.

“Well. . . is the baby’s father in the picture?” He asked, following his multitude of other yes/no questions, right as you’d opened your driver’s side door to escape him.

Fuck. What did you say? You didn’t want to freak him out. Annoying as he was, you still had a plan to at least try things with him to see if you could make something work with someone who wasn’t Jake. . . Still wanted to test the waters with the whole idea of seeing another guy. There was a chance you could end up giving things a real chance with Theo. And you didn’t want to spoil what could inevitably get your mind off of Jake by acting like you were with him in any capacity.

Because you weren’t. No matter what had happened in the kitchen or the Jeep.

You couldn’t tell him the full truth. It just didn’t seem entirely wise to tell him all of the details. . . just in case. What was a way you could tell him half of the truth?

“Kind of, kind of not,” you replied, not wanting to give much more. But, you added, “He’s not as present as I wish he could be.”

Not a lie, you thought. Because I do wish he was more present. Like, present in my bed, for instance. . . which he isn’t.

“Why not?” Theo asked, going to lean against your car.

Just before he could place his jeans-clad butt against your car, you spoke up. “Don’t lean against the car, please,” you tried, feeling uncomfortable that you even had to ask him. You just didn’t want him to scratch or dent your beloved Jetta.

“Oh,” he said, pouting a bit. “Is the car special to you or something?”

“Well, kind of. Elsie and I shared it when she lived here and still kind of do,” you told him. I also just don’t want just anyone leaning against my car; is that too much to ask?!

He made a noise of acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything further on the matter as he straightened up with a bit of an attitude. “Why isn’t the father present?”

You were not ready to explain. You didn’t know what to begin to say. . . didn’t want to say too much, but you also didn’t want to completely lie.

“He’s just not able to be fully involved,” you replied, looking down at your nails to pick at a snaggled cuticle. “He does what he can. Just not available to do all I wish he was able to do, I guess.”

It was a diversion and it wasn’t a lie. You just wanted to drop the conversation entirely.

“What do you mean by all of that?”

I don’t want to answer that, you grumbled internally. And you wouldn’t like the answer, Theodore.

“I don’t really want to get into it,” you explained, hiding an eye roll with a glance back at your car. You opened your door more, desperate for an escape. And a nap. . . You didn’t have any obligations ton—.

Dammit – you had therapy this evening. You were looking forward to it, but you weren’t really looking forward to having to be in such close quarters to Jake all evening. After last Monday, you hadn’t seen him as much. He was either gone for the album or at the apartment hanging out with the guys to discuss things. A time or two, Maya had been there, forcing you to make a last minute plan with Josh one night and an impromptu dinner plan with your grandparents the other. . .

It was so incredibly hard being so close while he was forced to be so distant, emotionally – especially after recent events.

The two of you just weren’t what you wished you could be.

God. Alcohol or weed would be lovely right now. Something to get my mind off of things, you wistfully acknowledged.

Then, you peered up at the man in front of you – remembered the entire reason you were giving him the time of day to begin with.

The perfect distraction was right here, in front of you. You pushed down the way your skin was buzzing with annoyance, and gave yourself a second to observe him. Maybe it could work out to just make yourself available to him. See where it could lead. . . .

So, you went ahead and added an ending statement to your earlier explanation, “But. . . . . we aren’t together, I can tell you that much.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, his eyes glinting in the afternoon sun.

And, your hormones worked in your favor as you eyed him, watched him move. . . he really was so fucking handsome. You couldn’t deny it. The more you allowed yourself to study his structure and looks, the easier it was to let your mind wander.

He shifted his broad shoulders, his alumni sweatshirt hugging his strong chest so well. . . For what it was worth, Theodore was hot – you could give him that. He was irritating, but perhaps his looks could make up for it if you allowed. . .

And, you couldn’t deny how much you loved the fact that he still seemed interested in you even though you were pregnant. Someone so seriously sexy still wanted you, all bloated and different. . . that was endearing. It was promising and validating.

“Yeah,” you blushed, looking back into his eyes from his chest. The more you genuinely entertained the thought of Theo, the further your mind traveled of its own accord. . . . You bit your lip as you checked him out, letting your eyes travel to his chest again, and back to his face, flicking over every feature.

One of your favorite features of his were his hooded eyelids. Even in high school, you’d always liked them on him for some reason. His lids and chiseled facial structure complimented his seafoam-colored irises, shining in the sunlight. As much of an open book he seemed, his model-worthy looks gave him an air of mystery that you enjoyed.

“Well, that makes it easier for us to plan our date,” he remarked, moving towards you.

Not sure if it was your raging hormones or what, you weren’t feeling any uneasiness over his proximity. In fact, your body seemed to welcome it with the way your skin heated under the lustful way he peered down at you. Your chest exhaled just enough for your breasts to skim his chest. He was suddenly very close.

You kept looking into his eyes, craning your neck to look up at him. Your eyelids fluttered with the way his stare was piercing you. What was happening? Where had your annoyance disappeared to?

“I want you, y/n,” he said, voice low. “I don’t give a damn if there’s a baby in you or that it’s another man’s baby . . . I want you just as badly as I did sophomore year of high school. You are perplexingly stunning – inside and out – always have been.”

Suddenly, with his words and the way his boyish Axe body spray penetrated your senses, you forgot how annoying he was. The Axe body spray didn’t repulse you like his Black Ice car freshener. No, it reminded you of simpler times – he reminded you of life in its simplest form. Being a teenager, a child – when there’d been much less stress. Your mother, further from your thoughts in high school than she’d ever been before. . . no adult obligation to face your past.

Back then, there hadn’t been a Jake entering your life, whose presence prompted you to fucking heal those wounds from your childhood. . . Those dark, twisted past hurts that you’d worked to cover up very well in high school.

You couldn’t remember why you’d ever been so irritated with him. Because the man standing in front of you right now was not one you were at all angered by. . . He made you feel light and carefree, like you could ignore the hard things and focus on the unimportant. . . You just felt all innocent suddenly, like you had so long ago.

This beautiful man with dirty-blonde hair was clouding your senses – he was the same boy who’d given you so many of your firsts. . . . This person, who was standing in front of you, wanting you just as badly as he had so many years ago. . . He was still so fine, all aggravating traits completely aside.

He stepped closer once more, your breasts aching with the added pressure of his chest. But – you barely had time to wince with the way your breath caught in your throat at his next action. He’d grasped your chin. And was ever-so-slowly leaning his face down towards yours.

You were not about to stop it. Couldn’t stop it if you wanted. And you definitely didn’t want to. Fuck it.

In seconds, his lips had found yours, giving your lips a welcome, proper kiss. His lips enveloped yours so attractively. You felt like a smitten teenage girl all over again. . . you were back in your grandparents’ driveway the summer before junior year, bidding him goodbye with tears in your eyes, right before he moved away. It’d sucked having to break up. . . because back then? You’d never once been annoyed by him, weren’t so jaded as you were now. You had enjoyed his company, in fact (even if Elsie didn’t much care for it, you had).

And, you were finding the same feeling slowly coming back.

Apparently, all you’d needed were a few minutes and a bold kiss to view him in a different light as an adult.

And baby hormones. Those definitely helped. You were horny as hell more frequently than you wished and you weren’t getting any.

The kitchen was one night. Jake’s car was one night. But honestly, both instances had left you even worse off than before.

Your body was feeling it.

He gave you one more sure kiss, slipping his tongue just the slightest bit past your lips. It made your pulse quicken and your neck hot, but he didn’t take it further than that. After he’d opened your door further for you, he’d leaned over to give you a tiny kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll text you,” he promised, winking your way.

Nodding, you batted your lashes at him, completely at his mercy for the time being. What the fuck had happened in the span of you leaving class and now?

Whatever it had been, it didn’t last as strongly as you would’ve wished. Because within minutes, with your R&B playlist blasting, you were feeling your phone vibrate against your lap. And when you picked it up to find Theodore’s name on your screen, you felt utterly disappointed.

Because as cute and strangely endearing as Theo suddenly was to you again, he was not the man you wanted most. It was proven again, as you saw Theo’s name flash across your screen that the only name you wanted to see on your screen was spelled J-a-k-e.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I can’t stay to hang out after your session tonight,” Jake mentioned that evening, making a turn, bringing you closer to Gia’s office. “I’m sorry. Maya has this thing that she really wants me to be at, and I can’t let her down.”

Your heart plummeted in your chest, but you acted as though it hadn’t. As much as it hurt to hang out with him, it hurt worse when he’d leave you for her.

But. . . You knew that wasn’t fair. You’d stolen her boyfriend from her enough already. For every appointment he had to now drive you to, having him grope you in the kitchen, going down on him in his car. . .

It would be unfair to act as though she was the one asking for too much. He was hers. Him taking you to therapy was what asked too much, her needing him was quite the opposite. It was normal.

“That’s okay,” you said, tone especially light as the words left your lips. Damn – good act, y/n. Good job. “I want you to be able to be available to her.” As much as it fucking sucks to watch, it’s what life is now.

“Cool. Thanks,” he responded, sounding the slightest bit caught off-guard. Why? Had he expected you to be disappointed? He would’ve been right, but you weren’t about to let it on.

It was quiet for a few moments, then he came to a stop two streets away from the practice.

“So,” he started. And, as he moved a hand to turn down your playlist, his delicious, new sandalwood-vanilla scented cologne overwhelmed your ability to properly think. It seemed to exude from him with every action he took.

Your eyes flicked over his hand at his word, seeing his fist go to rest on his Jeep’s gear shift. God. The way his long fingers wrapped so well around the mechanism . . . . You thought of how they felt on your aching–.

Shaking your head the slightest, you glanced up at him. And, of course, his hauntingly beautiful side profile was even worse to look at than his strong hands. “What’s up?” You asked, voice stronger than you expected.

“Are you ready for tonight’s session?” He asked, eyes finding yours, earnest and genuinely curious. “Do you know what to expect?”

“Well,” you began, swallowing at what may await you tonight. Your eyes found your hands, fiddling with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “I begin EMDR tonight. I haven’t gone to a dark, nitty-gritty place yet. So, I don’t know what to expect, really, no. . . I’ve only been to my Safe Place. I’m hoping tonight, my brain respects that it’s my first time and doesn’t force me down any too unwanted paths,” you chuckled humorlessly, willing it with your words. “Because I can’t control it – you might’ve read about that during your research. But, that’s why I have the Safe Place that I can escape to when things get too scary.”

Simply put, I’ll find you in the field of Lavender if it becomes too much, you tell him silently, eyes glancing over to his hand again. So strong and sure. . . he really did make you feel so safe. Even when it broke your heart to look at him for too long.

Goddammit. Your predicament sucked ass.

“Safe Place. . .”

“Yeah, it’s where you go when things become too much in your partial subconscious,” you explained, hoping he wouldn't ask any further about yours.

“That’s incredibly interesting,” he said, invested in every word. “I have read about it, actually. Lightly, at least. I won’t make you tell me yours. I know it’s a super personal thing,” he assured. Your heart fluttered at his genuine care for the situation. “But yours helps? It’ll be a good place to turn to if things get rocky today?”

“Yeah,” you responded, voice suddenly very teary at the thought of who your Safe Place was. The fact that it was the person sitting next to you, who seemed so honestly caring of the entire situation. Of course your mind had naturally conjured him. The way he made you feel in this moment was enough explanation. Your gaze traveled back over his figure, his soft, black sweater hugging him just right. “It felt like heaven last time,” you breathed, taken by him.

He must have sensed you looking, his eyes catching yours for the briefest moment, scanning your figure so quickly you momentarily thought you’d imagined it. Your tummy somersaulted. Before it could become anything more, the light he’d come to changed to green.

“I’m worried about my heart,” you absentmindedly commented, thinking of your recent run-in with the heart problems and the heart monitor still hidden beneath your shirt. Your eyes were trained on a line of old, weeping trees passing you outside the window.

He was weaving carefully down a side street in an expensive neighborhood. A neighborhood you’d gotten to know by now on your drives to sessions. Gia’s practice is right around the block. Your heart rate was already increasing at what could be awaiting you when you closed your eyes on her couch. “If it becomes too much, I don’t want my heart to fuckin’ Rick Roll me,” you finished, snorting at the ridiculous analogy. Hardly even made sense.

Jake’s signature laugh bounced throughout the car, sounding like Josh’s . . .but a little different. The sound made your pulse even out. A familiar, nice sound . . . Everything was okay. You’d be okay.

“Talk to Gia about it beforehand,” Jake suggested, laughter coming to a natural halt. He said the words, right as he pulled into the parking lot of the quaint private practice. “Rick Roll,” he said to himself, under his breath with a sighed laugh.

The office was modernized to the nines inside, all light colors and expensive trimmings. . . But on the outside, all that showed was an older, classic brick office building.

He switched the car off, pulling the keys from the ignition. The lack of keychains caught your eye, distracting you.

Focus on the matters at hand, y/n. . .

When he cleared his throat, you looked at him once more. “She will be willing to assist you however you need,” Jake reassured you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Just like she has always done for you. Just trust her.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. Throat clogged with wetness once more, you sniffed as you unbuckled along with Jake. “Trusting is hard for me. Are you coming inside with me?” You couldn’t help but comment on him moving to get out with you.

“Of course I am. I want to be there for you. Waiting in the lobby for you when you get out,” he smiled, opening his door. He looked over at you, raising a brow. “Don’t get out yet. I’ll help you out of this thing.”

Your heart soared at the way he cared, tears daring to fall as he got out to come to your side.

Seconds later, he was at your door, helping you out of the car. And as you walked through the parking lot to go inside, he huffed a laugh, not as a joke, but as an understanding form of acknowledgment to something. “I get the trust thing, though, honey. Hard for me, too.”

Honey. Always with that nickname these days.

Your line of sight darted to him from the corner of your eye, and you chuckled under your breath to agree. “Yeah. . .,” you said, eyes brushing down to mess with your cuticles for the second time that day. His arm came around your waist briefly, guiding you as you looked down.

At his touch, your skin became hot through the jacket and t-shirt you wore.

Your mind wandered to a few months ago as he kept a gentle hold on you, keeping you in step with him. The stinging feeling of guilt for making him trust you and then breaking his heart all in a matter of two months. . . . it made you want to scream, cry, yell. . . All at once.

You did it for his benefit, y/n. Remember?

But. . . .had you?

Blinking a few times, you focused on the building’s glowing sign, highlighting the early darkness of the winter evening. Finally, you fell back into the conversation, “Trauma response is what I’d call it,” you offered, clearing your throat of any emotion.

“Exactly,” he concurred. “A coping mechanism.”

Yes! You do get it. Why did you ever have to be an asshole to begin with? Maybe things could’ve been different. . ., your thoughts went back to the first day you’d met him, making your heart lurch in your chest. Or would it have been cut too short, no matter what? Is it simply how my story with you is meant to play out? Have you and then lose you?

The fact that you couldn’t indulge in a relationship with this man was one of the saddest, most unfortunate things the universe could offer you.

“You ready?” Jake asked, breaking the comfortable silence once you approached the door, his hand on the metal door handle.

You looked up and into his wide brown eyes, the amber in them sparkling under the parking lot lights. Your eyes studied his face for a second. . . just let yourself have a moment before answering him. Weird as it was, the deep circles under his eyes brought you comfort in that moment. The fact that they were a consistent feature of his, always prominent, made you breathe easier. . . . He was consistent.

He was real. He was here. You were okay. Everything was going to be okay.

“As I’ll ever be.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmm... ;) what are they getting into? how do you feel about reader being so suddenly interested in theo? what about her plan? do you approve? did you like the bit of insight into jake's perspective?? :o

see you soon for parts 2 + 3, love bugs! <3 prepare yourselves, that's all i'll say........

#sosososo excited!!!!#covet days are the best days #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic

116 notes · View notes

builtbybrokenbells · 12 days

Text

Rotten Apple | JTK

Karmic relationships indicate feeling or expressing a passionate response very early on in a relationship. Oftentimes, instant chemistry is mutually felt. Sometimes, the drain of that connection or addiction to a partner is described as exhausting rather than feeling calmly settled in a grounded partnership. (Elizabeth Keohan, LCSW-C, LICSW, LCSW)

Listen while reading: (the entire fic is based off this song so I highly suggest at least reading the lyrics before reading 😁)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING AS THIS STORY COULD BE POTENTIALLY HARMFUL/UPSETTING TO SOME READERS//SMUT 18+, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), sir kink, choking, touch of orgasm denial, dom/sub, possessiveness, jealousy, degradation, name calling, praise, rough sex, toxic themes/relationships, heavy implications/explanations of cheating/infidelity, actual cheating/infidelity, chronic cheaters, gaslighting/manipulative phrases, fighting, arguing, crying, insulting, mentions of bad relationships/relationship trauma, mistresses/home wrecking, self hatred/self sabotage, remorse/regret, depression, anxiety, (lots) angst, (some) fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

and im back 😙 please tread carefully with this one if any of the aforementioned warnings are personal to you. this definitely isn’t some people’s cup of tea! aside from that, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (so sorry, very lightly edited. just wanted to get this posted so i can keep going with more stuff 😁) (also another side note, I do not condone cheating at all. was just an idea that sparked some creativity is all)

Innocence is over

Hey ah na na, over

Ignorance is spoken

Hey ah na na, spoken

Confidence is broken

Hey ah na na broken

Sustenance is stolen

Hey ah na na, stolen

Arrogance is potent

Hey ah na na, potent, yeah

“Y/N!” Your name screamed over the busy chatter of the crowd around you, catching your attention and turning your head.

House parties had always been so overrated, and since high school, it seemed the scene hadn’t changed a bit. Even in your late twenties, the spill of alcohol on the floor made your soles sticky and the haze in the air choked you as you breathed. The home you were in was familiar, but certainly not comfortable, and the memories that lived inside the walls were haunting as they flashed before your eyes. The crowd of people around you only made it harder to escape the stalemate remembering had put you in. Still, you pushed a smile on to your face, holding the hand in yours a little tighter as you marched forward toward the greeting.

So many questions flooded your mind as you closed in on the perpetrator of your punishment. You knew they would all be here; they invited you, after all. The text message exuding formalities and lacking substance was the whole reason you stepped foot in the door in the first place, and you knew without a doubt that they would be waiting to greet you soon as you showed.

Well, three of them, anyway.

You swallowed your pride, leading your company through the swarm of bodies. The weaving was tiresome, and you had only just begun navigating your way through an exhausting journey. It was too early to be tired, too soon to be so cynical, yet it was all you could do. Something about the story was too repetitive for you to believe the night would end any differently than you imagined when you received the invitation.

The questions continued to beat against your skull, twisting around the guitar riffs and raspy voices flowing through the speakers in the living room. It made for a violent pair, and your eyes began aching from the pressure behind them. Your body was telling you it was a bad idea, but you couldn’t listen. You had faith that the night would be different, that you would be different, stronger than you were before.

You could turn around, submit to your already guilty conscience and run out the door. You could pretend you never heard your name at all, and more importantly, pretend you never read the message in the first place. You responded too fast to a person who should have been long deleted from your contact list, but if you played the game well enough, you could climb out of the hole you already dug yourself in. You could come out on top of this, you could conquer the world that previously held you back from succeeding. All it took was turning around, leaving, walking away from him.

For some reason, your feet continued forward, neglecting every warning your psyche could give. They carried you far enough that you landed before the person you knew you should walk away from.

No, not the person.

Just the closest one to him.

“Hey, Josh.” His name felt like poison on your tongue, already seeping through the gaps of your teeth and searing holes into the flesh. You could feel the pain deep into your jaw, running down the back of your throat and circling around your neck. The sensation was lethal, but it was addicting. Something about the brothers made you a sucker for the pain. You hated the names now, but you hated yourself more for never having the willpower not to speak them.

“I’m glad you came! I didn’t really think you would message me back.” He confessed, leaping forward and extending his arms outward.

He wanted a hug, innocent and warm, a sure way to greet you with all of the love he still had for you.

To you, it was none of those things. Instead, it served as a reminder of your catastrophic failures and the life you once lived. A life that was painful, ugly and cruel, but still seemed shiny, like a dream you craved to see in your deepest sleep. The person that used to hug Josh Kiszka was not someone you wanted to be, but it was someone you could not escape, someone who only showed herself when she was around him. You could not be around Josh without being near him, too, and for that reason alone you had pinned Josh with his brothers crimes, too.

Still, your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer and torturing yourself with the scent of his cologne. As his arms closed in around you, the anguish of the familiar touch nearly sent you to your knees.

It wasn’t the same, but it was the closest thing to what you truly wanted.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I figured I’d stop by and say hi at least.” You replied, your head still swimming with uncertainty over the interaction. “I should probably be on my way soon, anyway. I can’t stay long.”

“Oh come on, stay a while! Don’t leave yet, you just got here!”

What game was he playing?

He knew the consequences of your presence in their lives, and he was lighting a match that would fuel an unstoppable fire.

“Maybe just for a little while.” You gave a soft smile, hiding your longing for the connection you had so long ago. His words were kind, more generous than they should be, but the weight of your past mistakes were heavy between you.

Maybe that was why you didn’t have the heart to turn him down. Subconsciously, you were stuck in some repetitive cycle of trying to right wrongs you were not fully responsible for.

“Who is this, anyway?” Josh turned to the man standing next to you, eyeing him carefully as he took in the sight before him. His gaze traveled from his face down to his arm, piecing it together once he saw your fingers still interlocked with his.

“This is Cole…” you said, slowly while Josh’s eyes moved back to meet your own. “My boyfriend.” You didn’t need to say the word. The implication was already painfully obvious, and all you did was rub salt in your open wounds.

Why did you bring him with you?

Why did you come at all?

“I see,” Josh grinned, but it was just as fake as your own cheeriness. You were both thinking the same thing, without a doubt for the future when the night came to an end. “It’s nice to meet you, Cole. I’m Josh.” He extended his hand for your new boyfriend to shake, the formality only slightly off putting as Josh’s eyes remained locked with yours.

‘Not tonight, Josh. Not this time.’ You tried to plead with him, silently telling him that tonight would be different than all the ones that came before. ‘It’s different now. You have to believe me.’

He did not, and you could not blame him. You did not even believe yourself.

By the end of the night, your relationship with the boy beside you would be no more. Jake Kiszka would see to that, and your undying desire for him would solidify it. It was a matter of time before you crossed his path, and not long after that would the incessant cycle resume exactly where it left off.

“Nice to meet you man.” Your boyfriend's voice was cheerful, and unlike yours, genuine. If only he knew the hurt he would endure, he would have left long before he ever experienced love at your hands.

No matter how hard you tried, it always ended the same way. No matter who it was, they were never able to compare to the boy who forever stole your heart.

“So how do you two know each other?” Cole asked, looking down at you now. You bit the tip of your tongue, standing stoic for a moment as you tried to come up with a quick lie. Without being too obvious, you tried to silently warn Josh to keep his mouth shut. You should have known better.

You have always known better.

“She’s never told you about Jake?” Josh laughed, finding the notion incredulous. He was too drunk to lie, but it wasn’t like he could ever do it sober. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes pointed towards the floor, feeling your heart jump to your throat and your head begin to ache. The poison of Jake’s name melted your tongue entirely, leaving you wordless and unable to defend yourself.

“Jake?” Your boyfriend asked, wearily speaking the name aloud as if it were a curse he was desperate to avoid. “Your uh… your ex?” He wanted clarification, or assurance that he was wrong, but it was something you could not give to him because he was right.

“Y-yeah.” You choked out, feeling your throat begin to close and air become scarce. “This is his brother.”

Innocence is over

Cole formed a tight-lipped smile, but did not let go of your hand. In an instant, he understood that attending the house party was not a mindless effort at a drunken date. He was not meeting your old friends, and he was not out to have a good time. Instead, the intent ran much deeper, and he was being used in a pissing contest for bragging rights to the ex he had always felt inferior to.

You wanted to assure him it wasn’t like that, but it was, and speaking would get you no further ahead of the game.

Why would Josh tell him? Why would he say it like that, as if Jake was the reason why you were there?

You closed your eyes, silencing your brain for a moment as you digested the truth.

Jake was the reason why you were there, and he was trying to spare Cole the heartbreak.

“He was barely an ex, Cole. You know that.” You spoke, bargaining with the distaste already forming in his heart.

Out of all of the dishonesty you had already dealt, that was the truth. An ex was not what you would classify Jake as, because you barely dated him. In fact, you hadn’t really dated him at all. You spent weeks secluded behind the walls of the very house you stood in now, nights wrapped up in him, tainting his sheets with the smell of your shampoo, but you were never his girlfriend.

You wanted to believe that if you had stayed just a little while longer, gave him a little bit more, maybe you would have been, but holding on to that belief was painful more than it ever served a comfort.

“Right,” he whispered, his hand still in yours. It felt wrong, just like it had the first time he ever held it. Cole never should have been in the middle of this, because he never should have been yours at all. You had no idea why you ever said yes to the title of girlfriend, because you never wanted it, and you had no idea why you invited him here tonight, especially knowing how it would end.

“Either way, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see Jake, I came to see you.” You said, pointing the finger at Josh to get yourself out of the spotlight. “You asked me, remember? What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to celebrate your new album?” You forced another smile, begging them both to believe that’s why you really showed up. Cole seemed to relax slightly at the sound of your words, but his chest still ached at the idea of being in Jake Kiszka’s house.

Was Josh encouraging you to fall back into old habits? Was Josh playing martyr for a cause that would only hurt everyone in the crossfire?

You could not believe he wanted to see you, because if he missed you so much, he would have shown up at your door. You would have went for coffee or shared dinner like you did so many times before, but instead he invited you to a party hosted by the one man you needed to stay away from.

“The worst.” He joked, playing along with your poor excuses. An awkward silence hung heavy between the the three of you. Nobody knew what to say, because no words could ever turn the conversation to a positive tone.

“Did you want a drink, baby?” Cole asked, looking over his shoulder to the liquor bottles on the kitchen table. You followed his gaze, eager for him to leave you alone so you could pry into Josh’s head.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, giving him a smile.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He said, clearly looking for a way out of the tense situation.

“I’ll be right here.” You promised. He seemed reluctant to leave you, but after a shared glance and silent reassurance, he retreated to the kitchen.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Josh again, desperate for an answer.

“Why did you invite me, Josh?” You asked, your tone turning grievous in an instant. The sweetness you held seconds before disappeared without a trace.

“He wanted me to.” Josh admitted, giving a shrug of his shoulder. “I didn’t know you’d bring a date.” He continued, his words more accusatory than you liked.

“Is it a crime?”

“When you know the consequences, yeah.” He answered, truthful with his response. “Listen, I’m happy to see you, Y/N. Whatever the fuck happens between you and Jake is none of my business. You’re my friend, and I’m glad you came, but I do think that you should be mindful of him before anything happens.”

“I’m not here to see Jake, Josh. I came because you invited me, because we’re friends. Remember, before all of this shit happened?”

“How could I forget?” He chuckled, thinking back fondly on the memories. Josh had been your friend first, the whole reason you knew Jake at all, but after all of the pain, your friendship with him seemed to get lost in the mess. “As much as I’d like to believe that you’re here to see me, we both know it’s not true.” He paused, thinking carefully before he spoke again. “And as much as I don’t want your new guy to get hurt, it would be nice to see you and Jake catch up, especially after it ended the way it did.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to him, Josh.” You crossed your arms over your chest, accentuating the cleavage in your already skimpy dress. You had picked it with Jake in mind, even if you would never admit it.

“You have lots to say, mama. We all know that.”

With that, a body presented itself beside you again and a drink was being offered to you. You sent Josh a pointed stare, letting the action finish the conversation for good. Josh nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze before walking away.

Cole noticed, and you couldn’t blame him for his questioning gaze, but it did irritate you beyond belief. He was treading in waters too dangerous to survive.

Instead of asking, he opted to keep quiet in fear of the answer he would receive.

Ignorance is spoken

“It’s really nice of you to support Josh like that, even after Jake fucked you over.” Cole said, sending a small smile your way. You took a moment to admire him, his beauty, and his bare-faced stupidity.

“We’ve been friends for a long time. It’s the least I could do.” You shrugged, brushing off his sweet sentiments.

Cole knew you were not there to support Josh, but he was forcing himself to believe it. It was easier for him to digest, thinking that your intentions were friendly and honest. When he focused on the alternative for too long, he thought he would be sick.

Before you could respond, you were pulled into a whirlwind of emotion as your eyes fixated on something within the crowd. In the distance, you saw a flash of familiar brown hair. The sight made your stomach turn and your palms turn clammy.

He wanted you to come.

Josh’s words repeated in your head, making it hard to think of anything else. Jake wanted you there. He asked for you. He knew you would never answer if he asked you himself, because you had never been keen on giving him what he wanted.

That was yours and Jake's biggest problem; you wanted too much from each other, and neither of you had ever been very generous. He wanted more than you could give, and you wanted what he could not provide.

Despite knowing that about yourselves, there was this incessant temptation in both of your minds, forcing you to believe that you were the best the other could ever get, even if it never worked out, and even if all it ever caused was pain.

The familiar head was not pointed in your direction, but you were certain it would be soon. The two of you had an awful attachment to one another, the bond extending into the realm of spirituality and likely even far beyond it. If you walked in a room, he knew, no matter how far away or how invested he was in something else. If you left, your absence hung heavy in the air and haunted him, even if he did not witness you leave. He was completely in tune with you, knowing your next move without you saying a word.

Even if you tried to ignore it, you knew you felt it just the same when it came to his presence and absence.

He was a habit you couldn’t kick, a guilty pleasure and an addiction far more lethal than one to substance. You would search for him in every room, cry out for him and him alone in the darkest nights, and long for his company after he disappeared from sight. His voice was like venom, seeping under your skin and tainting the blood supply the minute it reached your ears. His eyes, easy to get lost in and your definite demise.

He was not good for you, and he never would be, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him. He was the most karmic relationship you’d ever engaged in, punishing you for wrongs you’d committed long before you met him. At the same time, he was making you engage in far more at his hand than you ever believed possible. You didn’t want to want him, but it was impossible to deny. The thought of not needing him was obsolete, because you never knew a moment of peace after he walked into your life.

You could not be with him, and you knew even in the future it would never be in your cards, either. For some reason, even while knowing he was actively ruining your life, you jumped at the chance to love him one more time. You destroyed every opportunity given to you in favor of his twisted agenda, and you did it without regret or second thought. New relationships blossomed after he walked away from you, and failed when he decided to walk your way again. You needed to stay away, to put a boundary in place, but you loved his sin too much to refute it.

You had slowly come to terms with the fact Jake Kiszka would be your kryptonite until you took your dying breath. He was inescapable, and even if you would never truly be his, he would always have a part of you.

No, he would always have all of you, but he would never be yours to keep.

And just like the world ensured it a million times before, the head turned, and the familiar brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul once more.

You couldn’t run, because he would always find you. You couldn’t run to him, because the boy by your side would know the truth behind the situation you had been trying so hard to keep a handle on. You were stuck, glued to the floor and locked in position until he decided to walk your way.

He was in control, and always had been. Since the moment you met him, you were happy to leave your fate in his hands, blindly trusting a man who only ever did what he could to fuck you over.

You couldn’t see all of his face, but you knew how beautiful he looked despite the crowd standing in his way. You could picture it crystal clear, the pout of his lips and the heavy-lidded eyes filled with lust. You knew the wrinkled furrow of his brow better than anything else in the world, and the softness of his skin and how good it felt under your touch.

As he stared, only his eyes visible to you, you knew he was envisioning all the same things.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Cole asked, his voice concerned. His hand on your back was excruciating, the overwhelming feeling of wrongness growing by the second.

You wanted to tell him, to send him away before he met the same fate as everyone who came before him, yet you couldn’t bear the thought of confessing all of your secrets to him. Some small part of you even believed you could avoid it this time, even whilst you felt the gravitational pull all the way across the room and through the crowd. You wanted to be the good guy and spare him, and you wanted to be the best person and end the cycle, but you knew neither would happen.

There were two reasons why you could not do those things; one being that Jake Kiszka made you into the worst version of yourself, and two, he was walking towards you now with no intent to slow.

“I-I’m okay,” you tried to assure him, but your voice was shaky and your words were weak. It did not take a genius to understand why, and as his eyes moved to look in the same direction of yours, his stomach was sick with fear. He did not know Jake by looks, but he knew you, and he knew that your pompous reaction would not be caused by anything other than him.

“Y/N, let’s go.” Cole said, trying to get you out of the situation before it began, but you were already in his sight, and there was no shying away. The hunter settled on prey, and you could only hope that Jake had enough kindness left in his heart to spare you from the suffering he so often inflicted upon you.

“I-I can’t.” You shook your head, noticing his grip move to your arm. He was trying to force you away, almost as if he knew his fate before it began to unfold.

“The fuck you can’t.” He scoffed, nudging you in the opposite direction of the man approaching you. “Let’s go.” He said again, harsher than the last.

You should listen.

You should leave.

It was too late, anyway. Your choosing of Jake over anyone else was a disaster, but it was something no outward intervention could have possibly changed. It was your own personal law, and when it came to a competition between Jake and anyone else, the contender always lost.

He was in front of you again. Months of static silence and breaking hearts, months of longing and yearning for something you could not have, finally came to a bitter end. It had been so long since you were face to face with Jake that you almost managed to forget how intoxicating his aura was. Almost, being the key word, because deep down you knew you would never forget a thing about him.

“Long time no see, sweetheart.” His voice was like liquid gold, washing down over you and curing any ailment that plagued you. The pout of his lip had only become more irresistible, and his chocolate coloured irises locked you in for eternity. Even if you wanted to leave, you knew it to be impossible.

“Could have kept it that way.” You replied, your lips turning down into a slight frown. Your eyes, though, told a much different story that he was quite privy to. You were good at keeping the feelings between the two of you a secret to anyone looking in, but inside, you were dying for him to touch you. Just once, just for a second so you could ascend to heaven again. It was a feeling only he could give, and you had been deprived of it for a long time, constantly in search of the high since his absence began.

“Right,” he chuckled, remembering your snarky tone all too well. “That’s why you came to my house? To bitch at me for saying hi?” His words were evil, and so was his tone, but you nearly went weak in the knees hearing the domineering voice once again. His eyes held emotion different from the venom of his words, and you could feel how thrilled he was to see you again.

“It wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t bitching at you for something, Jacob.” You reminded, keeping your expression stony so he could not use anything to his advantage.

“Of course, angel. It’s what I love most about you.” He smirked, nodding in agreement. You noticed his eyes flicker to the man beside you, the one holding your arm so tightly in hopes he could pull you away. Jake bit back a bigger smile, knowing there was nothing strong enough in the world to pull you away from him.

His black dress shirt was held together by the bottom three buttons. A fitted suit jacket was settled neatly atop it, but it was not screaming anything overly fancy. The cheap necklaces around his neck dumbed down the expensive clothing, but you cursed how remarkably well it worked together. His dress pants hugged his hips, and the tanned skin of his chest held your attention. It was not the clothes that sent you mad, but the fact you had before studied the beautiful intricacies that lie beneath.

“Are you going to introduce me to your little friend?” He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, raising his eyebrow in inquiry.

Little was a term he used only to assert his dominance. Cole stood heads taller, and his shoulders were much wider, but in the moment, Jake appeared much bigger than the man beside you. His ego was so large that it left no space in the room for anyone else, and his confidence made Cole pale in comparison to him.

“Boyfriend.” Cole corrected, his jaw clenched and his grip on you growing tighter by the minute. At that, Jake laughed out loud, unable to hold his feelings on the matter. Cole swallowed back the bitter taste it left in his mouth, but opted not to respond.

“Okay.” Jake nodded, looking back to you for clarification. “Your boyfriend.” He reworded his question, putting emphasis on the term and making it painfully apparent he had no interest in talking to Cole at all.

“This is Cole.” Was all you said, your nostrils flaring slightly at Jake’s egotistical expression. As much as you craved for him to touch you, you weren’t blind to his abhorrent tendency towards cockiness.

“You move on quick, sweetheart.” He noted, glancing back at the other man for a moment. You scowled at his willingness to shame you for dating another when he was the one who drove you to it in the first place. Before you could comment on his misplaced belief, a blonde haired woman appeared beside him, making the situation all the more tense. You forced a smile on your lips, watching closely as she clumsily grabbed his arm, claiming her territory without a trace of humility.

“Seems like you do, too.” You shot back, biting down on the tip of your tongue hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled your senses, but the pain did nothing to deter the rise of anger in your chest.

She did not say a word, but she did not have to. She was the same to Jake as Cole was to you: a placeholder.

As much as you were a victim to Jake, he was just the same to you.

You moved on, found another to replace the hole he left in you when he walked away. He found her, hoping she would feel as good in his arms as you did, but she could never give him the same thing. She could try until the end of time, but both of you knew she could never come close.

“Was nice seeing you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” His words were equal to a dismissal of the conversation, but his eyes spoke something completely different. He wasn’t done, and neither were you. He approached you with intent to start anew, and he would see through to it no matter who got caught in the crossfire.

He slung a lazy arm around her waist, giving you a subtle wink before pulling her off in the same direction they came.

You thought you were going to be sick, your entire body aching with the knowledge he was touching someone other than you. You wondered if you loving someone else plagued him with the same illness, or if he viewed it as a game. You constantly feared that he did not feel for you what you felt for him, but you’d always been too afraid to ask.

“What a fucking douchebag.” Cole muttered, only loosening his grip on you after Jake was out of sight. As he let go, you raised your opposite hand to the same spot, rubbing the sore skin where his fingers rested moments before.

“He’s not that bad, Cole.” The defense slipped out without a second thought, and his misplaced confidence was shattered entirely. You looked up at his face, wide eyed and regretful of your words, but the damage was done and a fight was unavoidable.

Confidence is broken

“Not that bad?” He echoed, practically scoffing the words out.

“Yeah, Cole. Not that bad.” You repeated, rolling your eyes. “He’s full of himself, yeah, but when you get to know him, he’s actually got a pretty good heart.”

“Good enough heart to fuck someone else in your bed?” He questioned, remembering the tearful stories you had told after too much wine. Your expression dropped, your heart plummeting to your stomach as you were forced into a memory you were committed to forgetting. “Did you actually come here to see him?”

“Yeah, he’s an alright person, but a shitty fucking boyfriend.” You nodded, swallowing back the lump forming in your throat. “Which is why I’m dating you, and not him.” You clarified, averting your gaze to the ground. “No, I didn’t come here to fucking see him, Cole.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, realizing his harsh words were not needed.

At the same time, they were. You were playing the victim to avoid being the bad guy. You hated being the bad guy, and when it came to Jake, you couldn’t seem to escape the title.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” You forced the words through your teeth, feeling the whirlwind of memories wash over you like acid rain. Your skin burned as they continued to flow, and you knew that you would die before you could ever outrun them.

“Babe, come on.” He pleaded, reaching out for your shoulder to hold you in place. You shook him off as soon as his fingers connected with your body, stepping away without a second thought.

Without any regret, you left him amidst the swarm of people in the house of your ex whom you knew you’d end up in bed with by the end of the night.

Even though the thought normally settled your upset stomach, not even the promise of sex with Jake could cure the sickness that washed over you. Remembering was the biggest curse of your entire relationship, and unfortunately for you, most of your relationship was remembering. You went without him more often than you were with him, and even the sweetest of memories were tainted with sins and sourness.

You navigated your way to the bathroom blind, your sight ridden with pictures of Jake shirtless in your bed, and worst of all, shirtless in bed with someone else.

If not for you knowing the house so well, you would have gotten lost in the endless sea of flashbacks.

From the very beginning, yours and Jake’s relationship was bound to fail. It began from lies and deceit, and it would carry on the same way until the next bitter end.

“And this is my twin brother, Jake, and his girlfriend, Suzanne.”

“You can call me Suz,” she flashed you a breathtaking smile, extending her arm towards you.

You barely registered her hand in your face, nor her friendly introduction, because you were too busy gawking at the blinding beauty of the long haired man beside her. You cleared your throat, swallowing hard and blinking twice to bring yourself back to reality. Even as you reached to shake her hand, you were unable to focus on her. As disrespectful as it was, even if it was her boyfriend, he was someone who was meant to be admired.

Plus, his wandering eyes and lustful gaze made it all the more easy to completely discredit the woman offering you her kindness.

Of course, it started that night. It started the minute his eyes locked with your own, like an unavoidable omen of the horror you would soon endure. The connection was instantaneous, and the desire followed not far behind. Although you didn’t sleep with Jake the first night you met him, you were no better than a mistress without ever taking your clothes off.

It started with lustful glances, then came the flirting in secrecy. Within days, he was going out of his way to catch you in the hallway or alone in a room to profess his affection for you. Weeks after that, the touching began, slowly but surely. It started with a lingering hand on your back, or hugs that never should have been initiated at all. Then, his hands drifted closer to your hips, and even worse, your ass. The hugs lasted far too long, and his lips treaded dangerously close to your skin.

You hated thinking about what you did to that poor woman, the tearful eyes as she berated the two of you as one. She was kind, she was beautiful, and she deserved better, but Jake Kiszka had always been too much to resist. Now, he was a habit you could not kick.

Over the years, the women became countless, and then men from your relationships, too. Everyone else saw that you could never keep a relationship, but it ran far deeper than that. You did exceptionally well at hiding your affections, and even better at hiding your betrayals. Jake and you never felt the desire to commit to one another, so instead you ruined other people while you committed to your relationship in every way other than officially. You did not intend to hurt so many people, and you never planned to betray others on behalf of each other, but it always seemed to happen no matter how hard you tried to stay away.

And then one day, the two of you had enough. You had lost too much humanity on your endless quest to be with each other, sacrificing too many people in the process. You decided to try, to be with each other in an honest and sincere way, just to make the world a little bit better for each other. You wanted to love each other openly, without anything or anyone standing in the way.

But, you didn’t want to be in a relationship.

Exclusivity was agreed upon, but labels were tossed in the garbage. The two of you convinced yourselves you were happy with the arrangement, and for a while, you truly were. At first, you kept it very quiet. You went on dates and stayed the night at each others houses, but only rarely. Most of the time, it was quick hookups whenever you had the opportunity to do so.

Then, things changed, and in his opinion, for the worst.

Both of you fell in love, completely and utterly, without question or care. Your apartment was forgotten after weeks of you staying in his bed. You shared meals together, sat outside on the porch and watched sunsets and sunrises, and said I love you in every action, but never aloud. Jake was indefinitely intertwined in your life in every way possible, and you were happy with it, until he said the dreaded ‘L’ word aloud.

It slipped out, carefully and quietly while you laid in his lap on the couch, watching reruns of your favourite shows. At first, you thought you misheard him, but the silence that hung in the air told you the truth about his words.

You loved him too, and you cursed yourself for not being able to say it back. You thought that it was too much too soon, despite living with love surrounding you constantly. It scared you, and you reacted with fear, even with your heart screaming at you to stop.

You didn’t say it back, because you neglected labels and thought it was not possible to be in love because of that. And, true, genuine love scared the absolute shit out of you.

It scared him too, but he seemed to harness more courage in that moment than you had in your entire life. Instead of applauding him for it, you effectively slapped him in the face.

For a few days, things carried on like normal, but you could notice the tension in the air. Every day, you could tell he waited to hear it, that he needed you to say it back, but it never came. After a while, he began to pull away, showing the old Jake that made you fall in lust with him in the first place. There were no more shared meals, and definitely no more sunset gazing. The television was off more often than it was on, and the blankets on the couch remained neatly folded on the back. The bed felt empty, even when both of you lied in it, because the distance between you two grew larger by the day.

But the sex?

It was better than it had ever been.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him too, but you were so paralyzed with fear that the word got stuck in your throat every time you tried to speak. Instead, you let him distance himself, knowing you’d already pushed him too far away. You continued to fall more in love with him, and he forced himself to fall out of love.

Then, you came home to him in bed, but he was not waiting for you. Instead of anticipating your arrival, so you could live as roommates rather than lovers, you found him wrapped up in another woman who gave him more than you could in the moment.

It was tearful, angry, and loud. Things were thrown, shattered on the floor, and your throat was raw from belittling the man you had only ever wanted to love.

You had finally gotten the karma you had rightfully deserved, and you finally understood the horrible pain you had inflicted on so many others.

The story finally ended the same way it started, but the two of you never recovered.

You moved out, but you were never able to rid yourself of Jake Kiszka. Intermittently, drunken and sad, you’d show up at each others doorstep and give in to your needs once more. He hated himself for hurting you, and you hated yourself for letting it get to that point. Blame was abundant, and regret plentiful, but one thing never changed; the fact that you two never fully fell out of love.

Too fearful of hurting each other the same way again, you fell back into old habits. You and Jake could never commit to each other, but could never stop loving one another enough to put an end to your toxic ways and commit to someone else. The second time around, it was much more difficult, and a lot messier. Your secret-keeping abilities had greatly decreased, and worst of all, everybody knew how you felt about each other.

When he left for his last tour, ready to release a new album and move forward in his career, you took it upon yourself to try and end the curse indefinitely. You blocked his number, removed him from your life in the most brutal ways possible, and you never spoke to him again. You vowed to start over, to be better, to love someone properly without the memory of Jake Kiszka tainting it before it could begin, and you did well.

For a while, at least. Until Josh sent you the damned message that landed you at his house that night.

With a boyfriend who you’d been with for long enough to take a bigger step, you crawled back to Jake like a dog who’d been lost without him. All it took was a single glance, and you knew Cole would meet the same fate of so many others, and you would meet the same fate that would inevitably ruin your life.

Your hands gripped the countertop of the bathroom tightly, holding yourself upright as the grief did all it could to break your bones. Your chest was heavy, your heart aching and your mind overrun with thoughts of a man you could never fully comprehend. He hurt you, and you hurt him, but never enough to put a stop to it for good. There was something deeper, something so incomprehensibly strong tying your souls together, even if you wanted to sever the bond. You could run to the ends of the earth, away from him and all of the mistrust and deceit the two of you had created, but you knew you would run so far that you would end up behind him, whispering in his ear as you pleaded to start anew.

You looked up at the mirror, trying to understand the woman staring back at you. She was a stranger, a shell of the woman who existed before meeting Jake. She was barren, cold, and tired. She wanted to love, but could not love anyone other than him, no matter how hard she tried. The bathroom door was cracked open ever so slightly, the glow of the hallway light illuminating your tired features, only worsening the sorrow you had for your former self.

As if on cue, the door creaked open by the push of a hand. The yellow glow of the lightbulbs were blocked by a body, casting a shadow over the already dim room. You did not need to look to know who it was; you could feel his presence without ever seeing his face, and it was just as beautiful as you remembered.

No matter how much you hated yourself for the relentless cruelty you inflicted and endured, it could never amount to the love you held for him in your heart.

“What are you doing up here, all by yourself?” The words were sickly sweet, settling in your spine and relieving you of all the tension that gathered over the course of the night. Without even looking at his face, you felt yourself stepping towards him, gravitating to the one thing that continually held you to the earth.

Jake closed the bathroom door behind him, locking the two of you inside together, looking at your sad expression with the utmost regret in his heart.

If only he could do it right, to take back all of the wrongs that got you to where you were, he would do it in a heartbeat, for you.

But you had always been better off as a dirty little secret, and he made a much better whore than he did a lover.

“Waiting for you to come and find me.” You quipped back, covering the sadness in your eyes with a soft smile. He stepped towards you, meeting you in the middle. He reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he gazed down over your face.

“You look like a fucking whore.” He rasped, his voice quiet but not hateful. His eyes raked over your body, taking in your low cut dress revealing more of you than he’d seen in a long time. His hand dropped from your face entirely, instead reaching forward and anchoring itself on your hip.

You leaned closer, your painted lips barely hovering over his own. The warmth of his breath on your skin was enough to make you forget about your sadness, and any remorse for your actions fled the minute he touched you.

“You don’t like it?” You asked, pushing your bottom lip into a pout. It grazed his own, sending a rush of emotion straight through the both of you. In an instant, you were one again, two bodies combined into a single entity after being forced apart.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head ever so slightly at your dramatics. “You know better than that.” His other hand rose, settling on the back of your neck. The pressure of his hand on the base of your skull caused your head to tilt upwards towards his just a little more, just enough for him to see your eyes. “I love it.”

“Did you miss me, baby?” You asked, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him alone. His cologne was suffocating, but it was so delicious that it helped you forget about the dying itself.

“Do I have to answer that?” He smirked, his body nearly completely pressed into your own. The space between you was non-existent, blatantly showcasing your lack of growth during your time apart.

Sustenance is stolen

“No, because I know you did.” Before the words even left your tongue, his lips were on yours in a heated reunion.

The sensation was euphoric, something you’d been searching for without ever realizing it. The whine that rattled your chest sent a shiver down his spine, only encouraging his bad behavior further. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, desperate for a drop of anything you could give him. You were the only woman in the world who could do such things to him, and despite pledging to stay away, the two of you would always end up in each other's arms. Whether it be morally right, or morally wrong, his arms were where you were always meant to be.

In an instant, you were no longer the woman who came to the party with a boyfriend who treated her well. That title was ripped from you, stolen from his grasp in exchange for a single moment alone with the man who forever plagued your mind. Just like every man before, he stole you from him like a thief in the night, never satisfied unless he could make you his own again. He knew the love you gave was addicting, and anyone who received it was dependent upon it. He did not commit such thievery for any reason unjust, but because he remembered the effect of your affections so well. Without you, he thought he would die, and because of that, he was willing to sacrifice any other man’s life so he could survive off your love alone.

The taste of alcohol lingered on his tongue, making the moment all the more enticing. His touch was burning, but only ever pleasantly. Right and wrong did not exist; only he did, and you submitted to the knowledge that you lived solely to be his. You were not cut out to be a wife for a man who had his life together, and you were not meant to mother a child or start a family with a man who earned his keep honestly and loved sincerely. You were a mortal being who’s soul had been blackened with lust for an entity with more power than you could comprehend. You were born to play Jake’s twisted game, and over time, you had grown happy to be a part of it.

You were a whore, but only he knew how to pry that out of you. His words were laced with poison, his tongue made of opiate, his touch of ecstasy, and every action completed with intention to kill. You would not commit the crimes for another, because there was nobody else worth the effort.

“Taste just as sweet as I remember, Angel.” He withdrew a long breath, parting from you for just long enough to utter the praise.

“So good you couldn’t stay away.” You whispered, wishing he would kiss you again. It had been so long since you experienced such pleasure that you thought you might die without it.

“I can never stay away from you, sweetness.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and in his defense, it was.

He backed you up against the countertop, locking you in place with his hips. As he leaned his top half towards you, you leaned backwards to allow him easier access. His lips landed on the side of your neck, his kiss gentle and nowhere near what you remembered of him.

For a second, you let yourself believe there was some kind of sentiment behind his action, like he still cared and wanted to appreciate having you again.

Then, you pushed the thought from your head. The worst thing you could do to yourself was imagine that Jake cared about you, even if it was true.

His mouth traveled downward, drifting over the column of your neck and brushing over your collarbone. His tongue trailed over the soft skin, reminding himself of all he missed out on while he was gone. He was a man gone mad, driven to insanity just from the taste of you on his tongue. As tempted as he was to leave a mark behind, to claim territory that had always rightfully been his, he knew he couldn’t. He did not want to make the fallout any worse than it needed to be.

Instead of showing his true feelings, he spoke it into existence as an insult, inadvertently begging for you to validate his feelings on the matter.

“What would your little boyfriend think of you now?” He muttered, his face buried in your chest as his mouth ghosted over every available inch of skin. The hum of his voice against your body made you weak in the knees, but his words plagued you with guilt. You were not the person to get off on infidelity; in fact, before you met Jake, you despised it. You were not sleeping with him for any twisted desires or hidden kinks, but because you loved him too desperately to walk away. You would take him any way you could have him, even if it was despicable.

“The same as your girlfriend would think about you.” You reminded him, assuring he knew you were not the only one at fault. Your tone was breathy, your heart thudding against your ribs as his hands scoured your thighs. His fingertips settling just below the hem of the skirt, begging to go further but waiting for your permission.

“As if I’d ask her to be my girlfriend.” He scoffed, revolted just at the thought of it. His hands trailed higher, in search of the seam of your underwear. He seemed to freeze in place, his fingers inspecting your hips underneath the cool fabric of your dress. Slowly, his head raised from your chest, looking up at your face with a wondrous twinkle in his eye. He could not find what he was looking for, because they did not exist. His hands felt only the softness of your skin, without barrier as he smirked up at your rosy cheeks. “For me, sweetheart?”

“It’s always for you, Jake.” You averted your eyes, an unfamiliar feeling burning in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure why you were so sheepish of the fact; both of you knew it all too well.

“You’re too good to me, angel.” He commended your efforts to please him only because they worked so well. He bunched the skirt of your dress in his hands, pushing it up past your hips to reveal your lack of underwear. The sight of you exposed in front of him was nearly too much for him to bear, but he persevered through the abundance of lust he felt for you in hopes of drawing the reunion out a little longer.

His fingers slipped between your legs, pushing them apart so he could continue his tyranny without interruption. You watched him closely, inspecting every move as if you needed it to survive. In some sick way, you did. You felt as though if you were deprived of his touch for too long, you would succumb to death and waste away to nothingness. His touch hovered above your heat, but he was unwilling to give you what you wanted so easily.

How foolish of you to believe that Jake would be kind, even after such a long absence.

“Please touch me, Jake. Waited so fucking long.” You whined, looking down at his hand between your thighs, taunting you with the power you knew he possessed.

“Oh no, sweetheart.” He shook his head, chucking at your neediness. “You don’t get to call the shots.” He said, his eyes flickering up to meet your own. “You left, remember? You blocked my number and went off and found someone else to take my place. You don’t get to complain about it after you finally decided to come back.”

Arrogance is potent

Oh, so he was mad. Good thing for him, you could play that game, too.

“Quit it with the fucking pity party, Jacob. We both know you’re not innocent, either.” From sweet to sour in a second, your entire demeanor changed in response to his ridiculous claims.

“You should see yourself.” He smirked, moving his hand a little closer to your aching cunt, but not close enough to touch you, yet. “Just as desperate as you were the last time I saw you, still so eager to be fucked while your boyfriend waits for you downstairs.” He spit the word as if it were a bitter taste on his tongue, easily telling you that the old game of cat and mouse had changed. He was going to fuck you, but he was angry that you had tried to move on despite him doing the exact same thing.

“Oh, you poor thing.” You seethed, feeling the rise of anger begin to take over your body, too.

Clearly, leaving silently had deprived you of the release you so desperately needed. There were too many loose ends, too much emotion hanging heavy on the both of you. You had waited nearly a year to get it all out, a year of suffering before you could even begin to release some of the pain you locked up so securely in your heart.

“Don’t tell me your feelings are hurt, Jacob.” You raised an eyebrow, condemning him for feeling any kind of sorrow over your new relationship.

“Over you? As if.” He sneered, the momentary sweetness from earlier fleeing him completely. Touching you again was euphoric, telling of all he still felt of you, and he didn’t mind letting you know he missed you. Unfortunately, it brought up a whole other whirlwind of emotions that were far less appealing.

“Still doing whatever you can to convince yourself you don’t care about me, hmm?” You snipped, taking the opportunity to slide your dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed before him. “We both know why you’re upset, Jake, and it’s not because you don’t care.”

His hands shot to your hips, lifting you on the counter and setting you down on the cool surface. Now that you were locked in, his own body ensuring you could not run, his hand was between your legs again and finally connected with your cunt.

“What is it then, if you think you fucking know everything?” His fingers sliding through your folds, gathering the wetness on his fingertips and circling around your clit made it hard to respond. The feeling was so grand, even if the action was small. It was something you’d been waiting for since he got on the plane that flew him away from you, severing the twisted ties that held you two together.

The most harrowing revelation came when you understood that it was even better than you remembered it to be.

“You’re j-jealous, Jacob. Just fucking say it.” You spat between waves of pleasure, looking down at his face with a distasteful look in your eye. He was silent for a moment, opting to watch his hand working at your cunt instead of responding to your accusations. Eventually, after an unusually long bout of silence from him, his eyes flickered back to your face.

Without him saying a word, you knew you hit the nail straight on the head.

“You think it was nice to see that you found someone to take my place after I was gone?” He whispered, his tone dangerously low. “That he’s been taking up space in your bed where I used to sleep?” He growled, the curl of his lip resembling him as more of a wild animal than a man who had been hurting on your behalf. He raised his other hand to your neck, the back of his fingers gently caressing the side of it as he let his words sink in. “Do you think I liked the way he was touching you, like he was protecting his territory? Like you haven’t always been mine?” The possessive claim caused you to clench around nothing, desperate for anything more than he was giving you.

His fingers closed around your neck, the grip loose but foreshadowing of all that was to come. His face was close to yours, so close that the tip of his nose brushed against your burning cheeks and his lips were ghosting over your own.

“Answer me.” He whispered, letting his middle finger slide down to your entrance, feeling his way through the arousal he was responsible for.

“No, sir.” You shook your head, almost finding yourself sympathetic for the pain he was masking with his cruel words.

“So why did you bring him here, sweetheart? To rub it in my face? To piss me off?” He asked, slipping his finger inside you and letting his thumb drift over your clit. He began a steady pace, clearly getting himself worked up as he made a point to berate you for your decisions. “Did you want me to get jealous so I would start a fight with him and show everyone how much I fucking care about you?”

“N-no, sir.” You whimpered, feeling the flutter of an orgasm begin to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The curl of his fingers was addicting, and with every pump of his hand he was hitting the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” He said, his fingers tightening around your neck a little further. He wasn’t ready to take it all the way, because he wanted to hear the truth before anything else. “You’re a little attention whore, and you wanted me to tell everyone out there that you’re mine. That’s all you ever fucking wanted, right? To be mine, and for everyone to know it?” The conversation was taking a dark turn, but you were too needy to complain about it. You thought if you kept talking, telling him what he wanted to hear, he would give you what you needed.

You were too stupid to realize you were only digging yourself a deeper hole, and the one you were already in was much too steep to climb out of.

“Yes, Jake. I did. That’s all I wanted.” You nodded, hoping he could feel your sincerity. You were not lying, because it was all you ever wanted. To be his and his alone was what you craved, with no one standing between you and no more secrets.

“So instead of telling me that, what did you do?” He snarled, moving his fingers a little faster. The change in pace caused your whole body to quiver. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and your mind was consumed with him entirely. He wanted you to confess, to tell him you understood the mistakes you made and atone for your sins. He needed it more than he ever needed anything else in his entire life.

“I-I left,” you choked out, feeling his fingers tighten on your pulse-point. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears, so powerful it was pulsing behind your eyes. “I was scared. I was too scared to say it, Jake.” You wheezed out, feeling your head begin to swirl from the pleasure and the lack of blood flow.

“Yeah, you fucking left. You were too scared to say it, so you left me to feel like an idiot for saying it first.” You were no longer speaking of the significant others you had left downstairs, nor your absence in the months prior. He was talking about that same dreaded instance that replayed in your mind every single day.

He was talking about it.

Aloud, he spoke the words, for the first time since the war began.

“M’so sorry, Jake.” You pleaded, feeling so strung out that the apology seemed misplaced. Recounting your mistakes did not seem fitting with his fingers inside of you and an orgasm threatening you. “I felt it too. I should have said it.”

“But you didn’t. You never fucking did, because you only ever cared about yourself.” Your eyes shot open, suddenly being pulled from the euphoria taking over your entire body. Your nostrils flared, your pupils blazing with a fire that only he knew how to ignite. He knew he struck a nerve, but it was exactly what he was intending to do.

“You fucked someone else in our bed.” You seethed, your words weak from his palm pressing against your trachea. Even in your rage, your hips moved down on his hand in search for more.

Just like always, sex was the most important thing to both of you.

“Instead of talking to me, you fucked someone else and tried to play the victim!” Your words were stronger now, fighting against his power with ease.

You were the only person in the world who ever had enough courage to challenge him.

“I guess we finally got what was coming to us, then.” He muttered, scowling at the thought of the pain you two caused each other, scowling at pain you’d caused so many others. “You still haven’t learned your lesson, because you’re back here begging for more, doing the same thing to him.”

“You don’t get to chastise me when you’re doing the same thing.” You spat, enraged at his self-righteous response.

“I never said I was any fucking better, sweetheart.” He reminded you, a small, sick smile toying at the corners of his lips. As angry as you were, and as much as your chest ached, you still knew you couldn’t walk away from him. You were destined to want Jake in the most despicable and destructive ways until the very end. The only comfort was that you knew he was destined for the same fate.

Without removing his hand from your throat, he moved forward and captured you in a kiss, sealing the evil you spewed within you forever. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, your need for him animalistic and unnatural even after his cruel treatment. The only reason it did not bother you was because you knew you deserved it.

As he kissed you, his hand continued working at your cunt, pushing you to the brink of an orgasm with great ease. You let out a moan into his mouth, giving him a taste of the pleasure he was granting you. He drew in a sharp breath, the sound settling deep somewhere in his soul and making home there for eternity.

He parted from you, but not because he wanted to. He would kiss you until his lips turned blue and his lungs collapsed, happy to die at your hands. He broke away because of need, and one that much much stronger than his urge to kiss you. His grip loosened around your neck and his hand dropped to your hip. He withdrew his fingers from you, causing you to let out a hiss of displeasure at the sudden loss of the orgasm he was so close to giving you.

Before you could get a complaint out, he dropped to his knees before you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He guided one leg over his shoulder, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh as an apology for his sudden change in pace. At the knowledge of his next move, you were all but upset with his decision.

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, your head falling backwards as his tongue connected with your clit. Your hand reached for his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue ran through your folds.

The sweetness of your arousal was something he’d missed so dearly, something he could never find from another. It was more addicting than any substance and it was the very reason he could get himself out of bed in the morning. Being with you in such an intimate manner was the only reason his heart continued to beat, and the only thing he continued living for. His tongue circled your clit, continuing his torment in a whole new way.

With just a single swirl of his tongue, you felt like screaming his name, just to tell the whole world how good he could make you feel. It was almost comical, how you searched far and wide for someone who could make you feel a shred of what he could, and nobody could even come close to him. Your whole body had been begging for him since you stepped foot into the familiar home, and now that you had him, it still wasn’t enough. You needed everything all at once, things he could not give to you and things you could never ask for. You needed Jake far beyond any other person, and far beyond what was possible from him.

You needed him to be more than a dirty secret, a betrayal of trust in a bathroom at a house party. You needed him to be yours, but you knew he would never be.

Your desperation was immeasurable, and your entire body was aching for the orgasm he previously denied you of. It was a terrible feeling to have, knowing that your life was completely in his hands. Whatever he decided to do with it, you would go along happily so long as it pleased him. It was a terrible thing to know you would never truly belong to yourself, even if Jake was long gone from the world.

He was living for your shallow breathing, surviving off of your choked moans. Pleasing you was his favorite thing to do, even if he hated you in the moment. There was something so gratifying about his name on your tongue, and something so beautiful about how easy it was to make you feel good. He tried his best to ignore the incessant thoughts in his head about another man touching you the same way, about someone else believing that you were theirs.

Both of you knew you were Jake’s, and he was undeniably yours. The facade you put on and the games you played with others were just that; the only thing either one of you knew to be real was the way you felt for each other. It was painful, harmful and frustrating for the two of you to constantly avoid the way your hearts felt for each other, but it was all you knew. It made more sense for the two of you to deny and lie about your feelings than it ever did to fess up.

He pulled away from you, catching his breath as he looked up at your face from between your legs. “Come on, angel. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” He hummed, moving his thumb over your clit so he did not lose the momentum.

“You want to hear it, baby?” You breathed, looking down at him through your lashes. “Did you miss it?”

“Dreamt of it every goddamn night.” He said as a matter of fact. You let out a whine at the sound of his words, pushed even closer to the edge at the knowledge he thought of you just as much as you thought of him.

You were in no position to deny him anything, because he was giving you the entire world. As he leaned forward, his mouth connecting with your core once again, you let a long slur of curses fall from your lips. The moan that followed could only be classified as pornographic, carrying through the door and echoing into the hallway for everyone to hear.

He was doing exactly as you wanted; he was making it so the entire house could hear how much you meant to him, even if it was not in the way you so badly wanted from him. Still, it was enough to keep you on his hook, and that was the very thing he wanted to ensure.

“God, feels so fucking good, Jake.” You gasped, feeling your abdomen tense with a particularly strong wave of pleasure. He hummed against you, speaking encouragement for the show you were putting on for him.

You knew if he continued on like such, it would not be long until you descended into an orgasm. He was waiting, just as desperate as you were to feel you let the pleasure take hold. He brought his fingers to your entrance, slipping his middle and index finger inside of you to add to the sensation. You inhaled a sharp breath, feeling the curl of his fingers hit the same spot he found so easily just moments before.

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling yourself clench around his fingers as the knot in your belly threatened to snap. At the familiar sound, he took it upon himself to suction his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, adding more pressure to the already otherworldly feeling. Your grip tightened in his hair and your entire body was rigid as it prepared to be pushed over the edge. “Oh god,” you cried, your throat raw from the primal sound that tore through you.

Had his mouth not been so intently focused on you, you knew how sweetly he would have talked you through it. No matter how vicious or volatile he spoke to you, he never missed out on the opportunity to coddle you as you came. It was his favorite thing in the entire world, an excuse to show you the softness his heart had for you when he usually felt like he needed to keep it hidden. He continued pumping his fingers and moving his tongue, guiding you through the high with expert precision. As he noticed you relax against him, he tapered off his movements before pulling away completely.

He rose to his feet, already tossing his belt on the floor before he was even upright. Your mind was still swirling with the lingering euphoria, your skin electrified and your heart pounding in your chest. You watched him, wordless as he unbuttoned his pants after he threw his shirt to the ground alongside his belt. He freed himself from his boxers, the sight of him nearly too much for you to handle. You missed him so dearly and needed him so badly.

He stepped forward, landing between your legs as he gazed down at you. His lust-blown pupils turned his eyes near black, and he was aching for relief just like you had been minutes before. “I want to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Say what?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He gave you a soft smile, void of any malice for a moment. He wanted to admire you beneath him, so desperate to have him. He wanted to enjoy the beauty of your heart being his despite being promised to someone else.

“You were just as jealous as I was, angel.” He said, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. You put all your trust in him, knowing that if he faltered, you might fall to the floor.

“So what?” You huffed, your cheeks turning red at his accusations. He smiled down at you, moving his hips forward ever so slightly. The tip of his cock rested against your entrance, already wet with your arousal.

“Do you really think I’d give her half of what I give you? That she means nearly as much to me as you do?” He questioned, his grip loosening slightly now that he had you in the position he wanted.

“No, baby.” You shook your head, wondering if tonight would be the night that things would change. “I know that.”

“You know she has nothing on you, beautiful.” His hand trailed up your side, the light touch tickling your skin as his fingers drifted over your stomach. “Nobody does.”

With that, his sweet sentiments had come to an end. He slammed his hips forward, the size of him coming as a surprise and filling you completely. A gasp left your lips as your tried to recover from the shock and adjust to him again, realizing that in the time spent away from him, nobody felt as fulfilling as he did.

To him, no one could compare, either.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” He muttered, clearly strung out from the pleasure too. In just a moment, he was back where he was all of those months ago, in love with you and desperate to hear you say it back. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

His praise was exhilarating, and his love was blissful. As he began a slow pace with his hips, the grief was almost overwhelming the pleasure. You wondered why it couldn’t feel this good with him all of the time, and you dreaded him walking away after the night came to an end.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for a moment, likely mourning the same fate that the two of you so often fell into. Loving you was all he wanted to do, but he was so afraid of falling again that he convinced himself he wasn’t already long past in love.

His tongue danced over yours, the taste of his sin too much to bear as your chest began to ache. You wanted to remain strong, to carry on with the one thing that the two of you were good at, but it felt so different than it did all the times that came before. The emotion you had neglected to acknowledge was finally pushing to the surface, angry about being ignored.

It wasn’t the right time, but you feared the right time may never come. You had to stop being afraid, to find the courage he once had and utilize it.

You could feel it too, even in his cruel words and his harsh insults. The love was there, lingering in every touch and screamed in every kiss. You could not allow yourself to remain in the same incessant cycle of pain, but you could not will yourself away from him. There was only one way to change your ways, but it was the hardest thing you had ever done. Loving someone so completely, no matter the circumstance, was terrifying. Saying it aloud only made it all the more real.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss and in turn, breaking you from your internal brooding. He looked down over your face, his hips still rocking against yours. The pleasure in the pit of your stomach had nothing on the yearning of your heart, and he could see it in your eyes. He had to look away, to hide his heart from you so you could not break it again. He feared the longer he stared, the closer he was to confessing the same thing all over again.

In a moment of desperation, he withdrew from you entirely, letting his hands settle back on your hips. Before you could complain, he pulled you from the countertop entirely, landing you on your feet in front of him. He had to change the pace, to harness that same carnal desire and rank it more important than how he felt for you emotionally.

Without a word, he spun you around, forcing your top half down towards the counter. The cold surface was a shock to your system, especially after growing comfortable with the warmth of his body against you. He pulled your hips back towards him, positioning himself at your entrance again.

“I think I’m being far too nice to you, sweetheart.” He muttered, reaching up and grabbing a fistful of his hair. “If I remember correctly, you only like to be fucked like a whore.”

This time, when the insult slipped past his lips, it did not feel good nor did it prompt any wave of arousal. It hurt, and it hurt achingly bad.

Still, knowing you were not strong enough to utter the proclamation of love, you went along with it despite the ache in your chest.

“Yes, sir.” You hummed. Despite the sadness of the change of position, you were still excited at the idea of fucking him. If you could not love him, you knew it was the next best thing.

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, knotting your hair around his fist as he pulled your head off the counter. He leaned down, his lips hovering just over your ear as he continued at the agonizingly slow pace.

“Just like this, sweetheart?” He asked, making sure that when his hips connected with yours he added a little extra force. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so good, baby.” You whined, the intimacy of the moment sending a shiver down your spine. His breath was hot on your neck, his voice barely above a whisper but loud and clear to you. As you answered, he let his teeth sink into your earlobe, the light pressure prompting a flutter in your stomach. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him in further and locking him there indefinitely.

Despite the pace being slow, the power behind his hips was what mattered, and with every re-entry, he added just a little more force than the last. As his cock brushed against cervix, your knees went weak and your stomach twisted into a knot. You had no idea how he could make you feel so good, but you knew you never wanted him to stop.

“He can’t fuck you like this, sweetheart.” He whispered, his lips still hovering above your ear. “He can’t make you feel this good.” He continued, his hand on your hip tightening with every word. He was mindful, careful not to leave any bruises despite his desire to. “Can he, angel?”

“F-fuck no, Jake.” You shook your head, feeling him press a kiss to the sweet spot just below your ear.

“Right, baby.” He hummed his approval, his words muffled due to his lips on your skin. “Nobody can make you feel as good as I do because you’re mine. Do you fucking understand me?”

“God, yes.” You nodded against his hold, desperate to agree with him on that fact. No matter what, you were undeniably his.

“Did you think of me when he was fucking you, angel?” He asked, his tone growing stronger by the second. He was pissing himself off the longer he thought about it, but he was willing to make that sacrifice in order to chastise you for your decisions. “Did you wonder when I would come home, when I’d come back to take care of you?

“I did, baby.” You whimpered, feeling the effects of his presence finally begin to take hold. You were strung out on pleasure, at your end already despite him being far from done with you. You were tired, but your body would not accept the fact. You thought if he stopped, you might die from the withdrawal from him. “I thought about it every fucking day.” You confessed. “I needed you, because nobody else knows how to do it right.”

“Exactly, sweetheart.” He hummed an agreement, happy to hear it from you. “You knew I’d never leave you behind. You knew I couldn’t fucking stay away.” Even if he wanted to, he never could. The confession was heavy, despite the fact already being known to you both. “God, what do you do to me?” He growled, the slam of his hips rocking your thighs forward into the countertop. Another groan tore through your chest, vibrating your entire body as he continued to fuck into you.

“Jake,” you warned, feeling your legs begin to wobble and your mind start to haze.

“I know, baby.” He crooned, placing another sloppy kiss to the exposed portion of your neck. “Being such a good girl for me. Just hold on a little longer.” At that, you let out another whine, loud and impatient, clearly unhappy about his plea to wait. In response, he roughly pulled your head to the side by your hair, craning it upwards a little further so he could press his lips to yours.

The kiss was enough to satiate your undying need for him, but the taste of his lips made the sensation in your stomach grow tenfold. The only difference was, now you could not warn him about the climax creeping up on you.

Luckily for you, he did not need to be warned about anything. He knew you better than anyone or anything, and he could feel how close you were just from your body alone.

“Oh, angel, you make it so fucking hard to say no to you.” He let out a long sigh, breaking the kiss as he let his hips rest against the curve of your ass. He had to slow down or he feared he might let go, too.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You gave him a weak smile, your eyes heavy as you looked back over your shoulder at him.

“With you? Always good, even if it should be bad.” He chuckled, placing a kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightened up again.

His hand remained in your hair as he took a deep breath, calming himself down before beginning again. The feeling of him moving inside you again after the short break was intense, amplified by a million. Although he believed stopping might allow the two of you more time, as soon as his hips reached the same speed as before, you were both just as close to the end. He couldn’t deny you the orgasm again, and he could not hold himself back. After so long without you, he needed it more than he needed food to survive.

“Can you cum for me, baby?” He asked, pushing your head down into the counter. Your cheek was squished against the surface, and his hips were moving with such strength that it made your head spin. There was no question that you could reach the climax, because you had been doing nothing but trying to hold back.

Instead of responding, your eyes closed and the burning in your stomach reached a whole new level. You had never gone so long without him, and now you had no tolerance for the pleasure that came with his company. A choked moan filled the air, letting him know that you were doing exactly what he asked of you.

His hand on your hip tightened as he pushed you further down on the counter. “That’s my girl.” He muttered, looking down at your face as you descended into pleasure. Your legs trembled and your lungs burned, but you were on top of the world. You felt better than you ever had, and likely better than you ever would. It had nothing to do with the sex, nor the stimulation of him inside you, but rather just the thought of being his.

You managed to sing his name through the mess of moans and curses, the sound heavenly to his ears. He waited so long to hear you say it like that again, and it sent him over the edge just the same as you. As you reached the high together, the world felt right again, like coming home after an inexplicably long and tiresome day. He spilled his release inside of you, feeling you relax against him as he slowed his thrusts. He leaned down, pulling your head to the side with much more caution than last time, and kissed you with all the love he could muster in his whole body.

You stayed like that for an abnormal amount of time, neither of you keen on the idea of parting from one another. Eventually, he broke the kiss, looking down over your face with adoration in his eyes. He did his best to snap himself out of it, knowing he shouldn’t be feeling such things about you, but unable to stop. He straightened up again, making sure to admire the entire scene of you below him, too fucked out to form a single thought. Then, his eyes traveled to the mirror, catching a glimpse of your position from a whole new perspective. He swallowed hard, his jaw tensed as he let out a shaky breath.

“How am I supposed to let him take you home tonight after seeing you like this, sweetness?” He asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror. When he realized your head was pushed too close to the countertop for you to see too, he used his grip on your hair to pull you upwards.

Staring back at you was a mess of the woman you walked into the bathroom as. Your cheeks were streaked with mascara, your skin red and blotchy and your hair a mess. Beside your reflection, you could see him watching you, studying you. His eyes were fixated on your face, taking in every detail you were noticing. To him, you were not a mess; you were the most beautiful thing to ever grace the earth. The mess just made it all the better, especially knowing he was the one who caused it.

‘I don’t want to go home with him, Jake. I want to stay here with you.’ You thought it, but did not dare say it aloud. The flash of sadness in your eye was apparent to him, for he had the same one in his.

What I see is unreal

I've written my own part

Eat of the apple, so young

I'm crawling back to start

If you did not speak now, you never would. Could you remain the same forever, or did you need to change to survive? You did not know what to do, or how to feel. If you said it, would it even mean anything, or would it be a waste of breath? He did not want to hear the words a year later; he needed it way back when the two of you were curled up together on the couch, when he used every last ounce of courage to say it first. He didn’t need to hear it now. He didn’t need you fucking up his life again. He didn’t need you.

But if he did not need you, why did he abandon his date in search of you, in search of what you used to be?

There was no more anger between you. Your eyes locked together in the mirror, housing a silent battle of uncertainty as you watched each other's every move. If you spoke the truth, the world would change indefinitely, but you did not know if it would be for better or for worse.

Oh, what did it fucking matter anymore?

You had to say it, to know that you exhausted every option to keep the man your heart sang hymns about. You could deal with the consequences later, because right now, you both needed to hear it.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, knowing there was some kind of war being waged in your head. He was afraid, not of what you wanted to tell him, but because he thought you wanted to end the constant debacle between you.

You could deal with the aftermath later, but you were done being sad. He waited so long, just the same as you, and you had to say it.

I repent tomorrow

Hey ah na na tomorrow

I suspend my sorrow

“I don’t want to go home with him, Jake.” Your voice was strong despite your worry the words would not make it past your lips.

“Then don’t.” He could not help the spark of hope that ignited in his chest. He rested inside of you, terrified to move as he awaited what you would say next.

“You mean it?” Say it, or forever hold your peace, coward.

“You know there’s always a place for you in my bed.” He was unsure if he was taking your confession in the way you meant it, but by god he hoped that was what you meant. Your eyes caught his again, holding him captive with your stare. There was not enough courage in the world for you to say it, but you could not hide it any longer.

“I love you too, Jake.” You said, your tone strong and your intent true. Nearly a year later, you finally said it.

The world was still. The commotion outside of the doorway stopped, and your relentless thoughts wasted away to nothing. For a moment, you even believed your heart ceased to beat.

“I love you, Jake. I should have said it a long time ago, but I’m saying it now, and it has to count for something.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said, statue-like as he stood behind you. For a moment, you thought you might die from the pure grief that encased your heart. You waited too long. It was too late. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I should have said that a long time ago.”

Neither of you moved, and neither of you knew what to do next.

You got what you thought he could never give, and he heard what he feared you might never say.

Was it over? Was that it? Did you end the curse that had plagued you since the very beginning? Had you repented enough for the rottenness of your actions?

Could you really have him with no secrets and no more lies? Could you love him without restraint, without any pain?

“Let me love you, Y/N. Let me do it right this time.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes never leaving his face. “Please, Jake. The world hasn’t felt right since that night, until now. I want to try again, and I don’t want to be a terrible person anymore.”

Carefully, he withdrew from you, trying to limit the mess as he helped you up off the counter. He turned you to face him, bringing his hand to your cheek to swipe away a tear that escaped your eye.

“I have been waiting a lifetime to hear you say that, sweetheart. I would be a fucking idiot if I gave it up twice.” You lifted your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m sorry it took so long. I’m sorry I was so stupid.” You said, reaching out and wrapping your arms around him.

The hug was simple, but to the two of you, it was everything.

“I was stupid, Y/N.” he said, burying his head in your hair. He took a deep breath, finally feeling the tension in his body fade away into nothing. The smell of your shampoo, and more specifically, the way his pillows used to smell when he was sleeping next to you, was his favorite thing in the whole world, and he’d been deprived of it for far too long. “I don’t want to be stupid anymore. I just want you.”

“I was always yours, Jake.” You whispered, closing your eyes as you rested your cheek on his bare chest. “From the minute I met you, until my very last day on earth.” He did not need to reply for you to know he was yours, too.

Finally, after writing your own wretched tale, you had grown enough to rewrite it and atone for all of the mistakes you made before.

Finally, you could love him without having to worry about anything else, without pain, and without suffering.

Finally, he was yours, and only yours, like it always should have been from the very beginning.

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builtbybrokenbells · 13 days

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what if i said jake fic this weekend. what then

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builtbybrokenbells · 13 days

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me and the gang after seeing this

Covet (Masterlist)

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.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Genre: and they were ROOMMATES; slowburn; enemies to lovers; enemies to lovers to friends to who knows what the hell they are

Warnings: 18+ (minors stay away); struggles with anxiety; absent parents; use of drugs and alcohol; sexual situations; etc. *each chapter will include the warnings that you should be aware of as the reader. i promise.* <3

Here is a Covet Visualizer that you can refer to if you're curious what certain outfits may look like, what the boys look like at any point in the story, or if there's a special performance I envision for a chapter... use if you want!

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼

Covet (Roommates AU)

Word Count (currently): 194.3k+

🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼 🌼

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (sneak peek)

Chapter 6 (sneak peek)

Chapter 7 Pt 1 (sneak peek)

Chapter 7 Pt 2 (sneak peek)

Chapter 8 Pt 1

Chapter 8 Pt 2

Chapter 8 Pt 3 (sneak peek)

Chapter 9 Pt 1 (sneak peek)

Chapter 9 Pt 2 (sneak peek)

Chapter 10 Pt 1 (sneak peek)

Chapter 10 Pt 2

Chapter 11 Pt 1

Chapter 11 Pt 2 (sneak peek)

Chapter 11 Pt 3

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

#nobody gets how much I love this series #Not a minute goes by that I don’t think about it #covet #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic

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builtbybrokenbells · 15 days

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#real #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #jake gvf #gvf #mirador

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builtbybrokenbells · 20 days

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hi my loves 😁 i miss you all so so much. i have still been here lurking every now and again, i just had to take a break from writing for a little while. life has actually been kicking the shit out of me, but it seems like it’s getting a bit better now, so hopefully it stays that way.

I started to work on belladonna again today, so i am hoping to post that in the near future, but I’ve recently taken some time to work on my actual novel again, so that combined with life being a huge pain has definitely been stealing my time and attention.

just wanted to tell you all i miss you and love you so dearly, and to assure you i haven’t abandoned this blog lol. last year i had a lot more time and energy to write than I do now, but I’m trying my best 🤍

#another one of toris rambles #i love you all so much #gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #jake gvf #danny wagner #sam gvf #danny gvf #josh gvf #gvf fic #josh kiszka

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builtbybrokenbells · 30 days

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If you receive this, you make somebody happy! Send this to 10 of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. If you get one back, even better🌹💕

thank you so much lovely!! 🤍

#this got lost in my notifs :(#thank you so so much #🤍#asks <3

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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HI BELOVED!! I hope you’re doing well!! I just wanted to check in on ya! Also, Partners in Crime was so so wonderfully written, I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. I would give anything to escape with Jake, I imagine them having a cute little impromptu courthouse wedding with all of Jake’s brothers standing as witness. UGH I LOVE JAKE!!! AND I LOVE YOU!

Hello lovely!! Thanks for checking, and I’m doing alright! Hope you are too 🤍 thank you! partners in crime was a blast to write, even if it was a little heartbreaking at first. stay tuned, hopefully you won’t have to imagine a cute courthouse wedding for long 😉 I love you too!! thank you endlessly for your kind words, you absolutely brighten my day! 🫶🏻

#asks <3 #I love you so very much!! 🤍#gvf #jake kiszka #partners in crime

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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also please don’t ask where that came from i wrote that in a wine induced fever dream and it’s been breaking my heart all day ☹️

#gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #jake gvf #danny wagner #sam gvf #danny gvf #josh gvf #gvf fic

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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Partners In Crime

The cure for heartbreak is truth, but what do you do when the truth is the source of heartbreak itself?

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, unrequited love, mentions of cheating/cheating, lots of pining and yearning, unreturned feelings, self doubt, anxiety, anger, depression, marriage/weddings, breakups, crying, mentions of blood/bleeding, being left at the altar, self sabotage, self doubt, eloping, kissing, confessing feelings, drinking, swearing, childhood friends to lovers, sorry if i miss any!

some Jake angst bc i guess I’m not suffering enough right now. much love, hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Jake’s POV

A rose, so strikingly beautiful in its own simplicity. The petals, blood red with intent to steal attention, surrounded by pillowy emerald leaves to frame the picture of her. The smell, sickeningly sweet. The perfume could choke you, suffocate you with its fragrant aura all whilst convincing you that you were okay, and that it would never hurt you. The silk of the petal against the skin of your fingertips, soft and inviting, forever making you wonder how anything could ever be so easy to love.

And then the hand slips, tumbling recklessly past the flowing leaves and grazing over the violent stem. The thorns, the only protection for the beauty above, sticking into your skin as the aching pain begins to spread. Crimson, not just from the leaves, now flows effortlessly from the wound produced by the one thing you’d fallen hopelessly for, reminding you that sometimes, not even love is enough to spare you from the hurt.

The skin, barely even broken, makes you wonder if you were even harmed at all, or if it was a figment of your own imagination, showing you the plausible outcome as it begged you to take a step back. As you brought your hand to the high quality wool of your suit jacket, swiping away the memory of your injury, you knew it could not be false. It hurt too badly to be anything but true, for even dreams did not sting quite the same. As you raise your fist to the oak door, one fancier than you’ve ever seen before, the ache suddenly spreads far beyond the tip of your finger, settling deep in your chest and wrapping around your spine as you wait for an answer.

Not even a shuffle is heard from the other side, and you wonder if maybe you should walk away, or if knocking was a good idea at all. You wonder if she’s in there, weepy-eyed with a smile while she stares at her reflection in the mirror and a dozen hands worked to zip up the back of her dress. You wonder what the dress looked like, if it was intricately beaded or plastered with lace, or maybe it was a silk slip that screamed elegance that matched her entirety.

You need not wonder, because wondering was never something you had to do on her behalf. You knew her, and you knew her better than the back of your hand. More than that, you were certain you had studied her far beyond what you’d ever known about the rosewood fret of your SG. You knew she was in the room, dressed perfectly in white lace extending down to her wrists, cascading delicately to the floor behind her as she walked. Her hair was twisted up, the loose pieces by her face hanging down to accentuate the warmth of her cheeks, just like always. Her hands, perfectly manicured and searching too busy themselves as she tried her best not to break a nail or chip away at the polish. She was tapping one foot against the ground, her heart beating so hard in her chest you could nearly hear it from the hallway, but despite her anxiety, she held a soft, warm smile on her lips.

She was not an open book, but you’d dedicated a lifetime to knowing her. Months and miles could separate you, and you would find her again the exact same as how you left her. Sometimes, things never changed, and thankfully, she was one thing that never wavered.

You knew her so well, and seeing her after so much time away, the same picture as you’d seared in your mind every night alone in a hotel room, was always comforting. It wrapped you in a blanket of warmth, filling your heart with so much love it might burst from your chest. She was everything, and she reminded you of that fact every time she graced you with her presence.

Unfortunately, her company often came with more than just that.

When the door opened, revealing the picture you’d already created in your mind, you were reminded of that fact worse than ever before.

“Jake?” She breathed, her lips glossy and her eyes sparkling to match. Her hair was twisted up, just as you’d imagined it would be, dazzling with a clip covered in gems. The soft locks of hair hung around her face, the same ones she could never seem to get a handle on. This time, it was purposeful, and you knew she’d given in to the lack of control rather than fighting it. “I can’t believe you made it.” The smile on her face was striking, but as breathtaking as it was, it hurt worse than it helped your aching heart.

“You didn’t really think I would miss your big day?” You forced the words out, wondering why you couldn’t just appreciate the moment rather than dread the future. You extended your arm, holding out the flower, you realized it had nothing on her. As beautiful as you once believed it was, seeing her stand in front of you dressed in the wedding gown and dolled to perfection, you knew nothing could ever hold a candle to her. Not even the blood red petals and the emerald leaves.

No, especially not something as simple as that.

“Here,” you said, watching her gaze down upon the single flower held in your hand. “Figured there would be lots of white today, so maybe some color would break up the monotony a bit.” Another smile graced her lips, so big the apples of her cheeks would start to ache if she held it for any amount of time.

You wanted to see her smile, so why did it hurt so much?

More than that, why did it hurt so bad to love something that was so easy to fall in love with?

“You always know what to say, Jacob.” She whispered, grabbing it from your grasp, her eyes never straying from the ruby red petals. “I never should have doubted you.” It looked a million times better in her hands than it ever did it yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the thorns never once thought to prick her skin, fearful of harming something so beautiful.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You chuckled, finding the ache ease the more she spoke. The soft sound hit your ears, quickly making itself the most important thing in the entire room. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” And it was the truth, even if you knew you shouldn’t be saying it. “Not that you don’t look beautiful every day.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, finally looking up to catch your eye. She held the stare for a moment, and just like every other time, you could have sworn there was something there, something deeper than the surface level shit the two of you were spewing to each other.

If there was, you were still a coward, and when you thought about addressing it, your palms broke into a sweat and your stomach twisted in a knot.

Maybe if you had found the courage all those years ago, you’d never be standing before her now, watching her get married. Maybe, you would be the one waiting to marry her.

“Do you want to come in?” She asked, her eyes flickering past you, settling on the wallpapered drywall in the hallway. She blinked a few times, seemingly trying to bring herself back to reality. You wanted to ask, but you were afraid of the answer.

“F’course. Think we’ve got some catching up to do.” Catching up before she could never be bothered to think of you again, is what you should have said. After all, it was the truth, no matter how badly it hurt.

“Definitely.” She let out a giggle, throwing the door open and stepping back. As soon as you let yourself move forward, you felt like you were punched in the stomach. In the air lingered a perfume you’d spent a lifetime trying to forget. It was the sweetest smell that you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. You’d spent nights with your head buried under the covers, your lips ghosting the skin of other women to try and drown the memory of her, but it never worked. When you woke in the morning, you always seemed to yearn for the same thing. Everything paled in comparison, soured just by the knowledge that something so special existed. “Everything got pushed back a little bit, but I’m trying not to panic. The day is still good, we’re here, we’re happy, even if it is a little bit later than expected.”

Happy.

Bold choice of words, sweetheart.

“What happened?” You asked, your eyes floating around the room, taking in everything it had to offer. Bridal suites were always so feminine, divine in their own special way. Billowy curtains, a stunning aerial view of the yard, porcelain white bathrooms and neat towels folded at every corner. It was perfect, everything in place, but it wasn’t her. Although she was perfect and pristine at first glance, she loved mess. For her entire life, she’d strewn clothes across the floor, leaving water bottles behind wherever she went. She loved nature, the feeling of earth on her skin and sand between her toes. Many times you’d walk in on her, paint covering her clothes and splattered on her face because she tried to repaint her bedroom all on her lonesome.

She was perfect in her chaos, and it was one of the very things that made you love her in the first place.

You wondered if her soon to be husband loved her for the very same things. You didn’t know him, nor did you know much about him. When you talked, it was never about him, but rather the life you two once dreamed of building together. Your job had taken you away from home, away from her, and as much as you missed her, you were grateful you never had to watch her fall in love with someone else. At the same time, it made you uneasy, unsure if you could watch your best friend fall into the arms of a man you knew nothing about. You dreaded the idea that he did not love her for those quirks, and that in your time away, his subjective love had made her change.

You looked to the bed, where she would have slept the night before, noticing the sheets pulled from the corners and the pillows nearly falling off the sides. The bag that once protected her dress was flipped inside out, thrown carelessly across the foot of the bed and long forgotten. A sadness washed over you, knowing that he did love her the same way. Then, you felt guilty for being sad at all; you should be jumping for joy that such a wonderful woman was being loved the way she deserved.

Even so, you could not shake the feeling of knowing you could love her better than anyone ever had, if she’d just give you the chance.

Then again, how could she ever give you a chance when you had always been too afraid to ask?

“No point in getting into it. Doesn’t matter now, does it?” She said, her tone light and the look in her eyes far away. You took a step towards the window, taking a long look outside. Rows of chairs were placed in the large field, the pond in the background decorated with lily pads and the birds sat upon trees in the distance singing love ballads. You wanted to be happy, but your stomach felt like it was filled with lead and your bones were heavy with the weight of your grief.

Tell her.

“It is important, sweetheart. It’s always important, to me at least.” Of course you could not tell her. Every time you thought about voicing your love for her, your throat closed around the words and your tongue petrified. Your heart raced, your whole body vibrating with the intensity of the emotion you felt for her, yet sentenced to a lifetime of never being able confess your sins.

Loving her in itself was not a sin, but by god did it feel like one. It was your biggest secret, and your largest skeleton in the closet. It loomed over your head wherever you went, and it clung to the fibers of your being no matter how hard you tried to shake it off. At five years old, with mud streaked cheeks and grass stains on your knees, you loved her the same. At twelve, with cracking voices and awkward statures, you still thought she was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. At eighteen, when you were lucky enough to bring her as your date to senior prom, you swore you would never feel the same for another woman, and you still hadn’t. Just a few days ago, thousands of miles away, she was the only thing you wanted. With her wedding invitation folded in your wallet, her name in your phone with a heart beside it despite the years being unkind to your friendship, she was the only thing you ever wanted to come home to.

“No, because if I talk about it, I’ll psych myself out again.” At that, a spark of hope ignited in your chest.

“Again?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, looking out at the yard too. A few guests were sat already, preparing for the main event. The event in which would forever haunt you. “I mean, it’s my wedding, the biggest day of my life. I think it’s normal to be anxious?” She posed it like a question, like she wanted you to tell her she was wrong, but you couldn’t. If you were to have her, it wouldn’t be like this. It wasn’t fair to ruin this for her for your own selfish purposes.

“Talk me through it, maybe I can help.” You offered. She took a seat on the edge of the bed, gentle and quiet as she smoothed out the skirt of her dress.

“I didn’t picture it like this.” She whispered, looking towards the floor. “I always thought I’d wake up on the morning of my wedding day, and I’d be overjoyed. I-I mean, I am, just not the way I thought I would be. I woke up, and it was cloudy outside. The sun’s not even shining, Jake.” You wanted to sit beside her, to pull her into your arms and tell her the sun was not shining because he was not the man she was supposed to marry, but you didn’t. Instead, you stood there, yearning to be the one who she was excited yet nervous to marry. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” She huffed, shaking her head at herself.

“Stop it, you always do that.” You said, stepping towards her. She looked up at you, noticing you were closer than before. Her stare paralyzed you, ensuring you could not progress any further. “You always act like how you feel isn’t important, but it is, Y/N. To me, it is.”

“But it’s not, Jake. I just have the jitters. Once I get out there and say my vows, it’ll be better. I know it will be.”

How do you know?

How does she know that when the curtain closes and the sun draws near the earth, that she’ll be happy with her decision? How does she know that even under the warm golden hue on the earth as it prepares for the night, the uncertainty would flee? How does she know that she won’t decide he’s not the one for her, only after it’s too late?

“If you say so, sweetheart.” You nod, biting back a sorrowful smile. She was looking at you, studying you, waiting for you to say something else. You wondered if she was waiting for you to say the very thing you’d sworn yourself to secrecy about.

Of course she didn’t. She was getting married, and not to you.

Still, there was this hint of hope in her eye you couldn’t help but pick up on. It was the same hope that you so often felt when you were with her.

“Anyway, enough about me and my woes… how was Europe? I’m sure much more exciting than consoling a pitiful bride.”

Never.

You would console her every minute of every day and you would never get tired of it, nor would you wish to be anywhere else. She was what you wanted, no matter the circumstance. You wanted her for all she was, the sadness, happiness and anger combined. You didn’t want her on technicalities nor did you want only the good parts. You loved her so dearly that you’d even take the worst from her, if that was all she was ever willing to give you.

“It was good,” You cleared your throat as you spoke, finding a lump steadily growing within it.

“That’s it?” She forced a chuckle out, clearly picking up on your distance. “Give me more than that. How can I live vicariously through you if that’s all you have to say about it?” There was humour in her tone, but she meant what she said. She still wanted to be there with you.

“Yeah, it was good.” You nodded, feigning a little more excitement. “It’s beautiful there.”

“Was it everything we ever dreamed of?” The simple question hit you like a brick, the sheer weight of her words nearly making you double over in pain. Suddenly, you were sixteen again, crowded in her tiny bedroom and sharing a comforter on her twin mattress. The air was chilly and the lights were dim, your bodies close, but never as close as you wanted to be. Laughter hung thick in the air, keeping you warm just as well as the blanket as you talked about dreams and fears of the future.

Out of all the fears, you never seemed worried about her not being a part of your biggest dreams.

Maybe you had been scared of all the wrong things.

“You would have loved it, Angel.” You confessed, looking away from her so you did not have to see the sadness on her face. “I wished you were with me every step of the way.”

“I should have went,” she whispered, pain clear in her voice the same as it was in your own. “In the beginning, I should have went with you when you asked. Maybe we could have done all the things we used to talk about.”

“You still can.” The words slipped out effortlessly, and you wished you could take them back. The sentiment hung heavy in the air, both of you knowing the meaning was much deeper than it seemed. “I mean… You know, you can always come visit, see the sights and stuff.” Your cover up was pathetic, but it was the best you could do in the moment.

“You guys still want me there?” She asked, surprising you with her intrigue. You’d expected a blunt rejection, but she was humouring your ideas. You turned to look at her again, unable to keep your eyes off of her. A small smile blossomed on your lips, a real one that could only be accredited to her.

“Y/N, there’s not a day that goes by that we don’t want you there with us.” It was the truth, even if it was heavy. She took in a long breath, looking down at her attire for a moment before catching your eye again.

“I think about it more than I should.” She admitted, shy about still living within that same daydream whilst oblivious to the fact that you’d never left it. Your heart fluttered at the idea of her still thinking about spending her days with you, sharing hotel rooms and building a new life together, away from your hometown, away from him. “Come sit with me?” She asked, hopeful that you would oblige.

Josh had told you not to walk into the building, not to knock on her door with sad eyes and a broken heart. At the time, you thought he was ridiculous for suggesting such a thing, knowing you needed to see her. Now that she was looking at you, more beautiful than ever, you knew he was right. It was a bad idea to come, and a worse idea to sit beside her when you knew it would do nothing but break your heart further. As you stepped towards the bed, sitting next to her, you just hoped that you would not break her heart the same as you were breaking your own.

You were still, staring forward instead of turning your body towards her like you so badly wanted to. Then, without warning, her hand reached out for yours, settling so cautiously over the back of your hand. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, just as wonderful as it was all of those years ago. You could not remember the last time anything felt so good.

Tell her.

“I’m really glad you came, Jake.” She said, quiet as a mouse as if her confession was a crime.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. You know that.”

“I do,” She agreed, but it was strained. “It’s just… been so long since I’ve seen you. I was worried I might not be as important to you anymore.”

She wanted to be important to you. Even now, when she was minutes away from being someone else’s, she would always be a little bit yours.

She had never been yours, but in some strange way, you both had the inkling that she was.

“You’ll always be important to me, angel.” You said, feeling her perfume begin to suffocate you. It was lethal, but you knew if you walked away, you would beg to come back just to die at her hands. “Do you remember when we were kids and you used to dream about this day? How I always told you I’d be here to hold your hand through it, just so you don't get scared and run away?”

“Yeah,” she let out a small laugh, but her mind was far away. You wondered what she was thinking, and you wondered if you even wanted to know. As terrible as it was, you hoped she was thinking about you. “How tightly can you hold my hand?” She asked, her tone airy and light, like she wheezed the words past her lips.

“What?” You asked, keeping the smile on your face as you turned your head to look at her. There was something unfamiliar in her eyes.

She was afraid.

For the first time in your life, you had to swallow the fact that the bravest person you knew was afraid of the future. No matter the circumstances, she had always been prepared. Even when your bags were packed and you held a plane ticket in your hand, ready to fly away from everything you’d ever known, away from her, she was not scared. You were terrified, tears in your eyes with shaking hands, but she never wavered and instead, encouraged you to follow your dreams. She kissed your cheek and hugged you tight, reassuring you that you could do anything you put your mind to.

If that was true, you would be able to say the words.

Jesus Christ, Jacob. Tell her. Time is running out.

You felt panicked, waiting for her to respond. You needed to say the words, but they were stuck in your throat again. You didn’t want to lose her, but your own cowardice was seeing that through.

“I want to run.”

Please, Y/N, run away.

Don’t do this.

“Why, sweetheart? I thought this was what you wanted? You looked so happy in the pictures on the invitation.” Convincing her to leave would be selfish, and she needed you to be selfless. You would be anything she needed, even if it was not what you wanted. “Is… is he good to you?”

“Oh, yeah.” She nodded, solemn in her answer. “He’s great.”

“…but?”

“But, I don’t think he’s what I want.” The words were like a breath of fresh air, a million pounds lifted off your shoulders. You were so featherlight that you felt like you were floating away. Hearing her say it was a relief, but it did not stop you from feeling guilty about it. “Everyone said it was okay to be nervous, but I don’t think it’s normal to doubt it. My mom said she was nervous to marry my dad, but she was so certain he was what she wanted. I’m… I’m not. I don’t know if I’m ready to give up my freedom, my last name. I don’t know if I can commit to him for a lifetime, because I can barely even commit to him right now.”

You wanted to ask. You needed to know if that meant what you thought it did.

Fucking tell her.

“I woke up today sick to my stomach, and it hasn’t stopped. I’m sitting here, and… ugh, fuck.” She groaned, her free hand flying to her forehead in exasperation. “I’m the worst, Jake. He’s so good to me, and I just… I don’t want him to be. The last few months, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to leave. If I do and nothing changes, then I’m the bad guy, and I don’t want that. It’s just… I love him, but I’m not in love, I don’t think. It’s boring, and every day is the same. When you’re in love, boring is nice, but this boring is just… boring.”

“Keep talking.” You encouraged, knowing that no matter which way it went, she needed to speak her mind.

“He doesn’t want to do anything. We don’t go anywhere, we don’t go on dates. We just sit at home and stare at each other. It’s been months since we’ve had fun, and I don’t know if I want a lifetime without fun. Even today… I didn’t want this. The big ceremony and the expensive dinner… it’s not me. I hate it, and he thinks I love it.”

You knew it wasn’t her, but you wanted to believe that she was the one who picked it. Hearing her say it broke your heart, knowing that this was not what she dreamed of when you two were kids. It was not what you wanted for her, either.

“I kicked my bridesmaids out because I needed time alone to calm down, and I thought it would work being away from the wedding stuff for a minute. I guess it did, but it wasn’t in the way I hoped it would be.” You reached into your suit jacket, your fingers searching for the inside pocket. They closed around the cool metal, pulling it from its hiding place as you extended your arm towards her. You knew you would need it to get through the day, but you didn’t expect her to need it, too. She looked down at the flask, her lips quirking into a soft smile. She grabbed it from you, placing her painted lips against the opening and throwing her head back.

“I’m your best man, y/n. I need to know if you want me to hold your hand so you’ll stay, or if you want me to start the car so we can get you out of here.”

“Don’t give me that option.” She chuckled, shaking her head as the whiskey burned her chest. Her cheeks turned rosy in reaction to the alcohol, reminding you she was still the same girl she was all of those years ago.

“Why, ‘cause you’ll take it?” You challenged.

“Yeah,” She nodded, answering without hesitation as she watched you take a sip, too.

“Then that’s your answer, doll. Don’t force yourself to stay when all you want to do is run. You feel that way for a reason.” Suddenly, convincing her to leave was no longer your best interest, but hers, too. You did not care what happened outside of the room so long as she was happy, and it appeared to you that she would not be so long as she stayed.

It just so happened to be the option that would make you the happiest, too.

“Thought you were supposed to hold my hand and make me stay? That’s what I always told you to do.”

What if I don’t want to do that?

“Is that what you want?” You asked, noticing your hand still held tightly in her own. She didn’t seem to want to let go.

“No… maybe? I don’t know.” She sighed.

“I always promised I’d do what’s best for you, Y/N, and if holding your hand and making you stay isn’t what you want, I don’t know if I can do it.”

Tell her.

“Would you hold my hand and help me run away?”

“That’s what best friends do, is it not?” You grinned, taking another sip from the flask.

“A best friend would tell me I’m insane, I think.”

“Right,” you give a slow nod, chuckling to yourself. “We’ve always been more like partners in crime, I think.”

“I’d say.” She laughed, nodding with you. “I missed you, Jake.” Your hand tightened over hers, your heart beating a million miles a minute. She held your stare, again adorning that same hopeful glimmer.

Is this what she wanted, or were you only seeing it in such a way because you wanted it so badly? Was she dropping you hints, or were you crazed by how dearly you loved her? Worst of all, should she actually run, or were you encouraging it because you couldn’t stand the thought of her staying?

“I missed you too, sweetheart. More than you know.”

“I feel good, Jake. Better than I have all day.” She confessed, intertwining your fingers with her own and rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand.

“Maybe you just needed to get it out and get on with your day?” You offered, saddened at the thought.

“No,” she shook her head, her voice quiet again. “It’s ‘cause you’re here. Been looking forward to today, but I think the only reason why is because I knew you’d be here.”

Love could not begin to describe how you felt for her, especially after hearing her say such things.

“Is that bad? I’m more excited to see you today than my future husband.” She said, her face plagued with guilt and her beautiful smile fading into a frown. In an instant, your hesitancy faded and you reached your hand out to cup her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, relief showering the both of you. Touching her felt like finally being home after a nasty bout of homesickness. You ran your thumb over her cheek, the makeup littering her skin not even thinking of smudging under your touch.

She was not the thorny rose that hurt you. She was not a beautiful thing that hurt to love. She was the petals, beautiful and breathtaking, and you were the thorn drawing your own blood.

Not once in this lifetime had she ever hurt you. You had become the one who was an expert at harming yourself. In that moment, the ache in your chest had nothing to do with how easy she was to love, and everything to do with the fact you had always been too scared to say it aloud. Relationships with others and miles between you could not dampen the adoration you felt for her, but that was not her fault. If only you had the strength to tell her, maybe the hurt would ease for both of you.

“I want to have fun with him, like the two of us used to have. I want every minute to seem easy, like it does with us, but it isn’t. It’s hard more than it’s ever been simple, and I don’t think that’s how I want to live my life.”

Was she saying it? Were you hearing the words you’d forced yourself to hold back? Was she saying everything you had been feeling all this time?

Tell her, Jacob.

“Even if I do change my mind, I’ve been in here all day saying these terrible things. How can I go out there and marry him after doubting it so much?”

She wanted you to answer her questions, but it was a dead end for both of you. If you encouraged it, it would be an admission of betrayal for her. You were her best friend, the one person who promised not to hurt her. If you encouraged her to run, you might be hurting her far more than it would help her. If you told her to stay, you were faced with the haunting feeling that both of you would look back on this moment and regret the decision.

“Answer this,” you said, keeping your gaze on her as you spoke. “In thirty years, if you marry him today, will you regret staying? Or if you leave, will you look back in thirty years and feel like you made a mistake?”

“I-I can’t answer that Jake. I don’t know.” There was a glossy look in her eye, one that spoke volumes. It was louder than any word she had spoken thus far. The fear and hesitation was clear in her face, and you wanted to comfort her, but you did not know how.

When you got on that plane, flying home to her, you never expected to be faced with such a situation. You never expected to feel hopeful about today, especially after you had spent so many months dreading it.

“I guess… it would be easier to regret leaving than regret staying, right?” She breathed. “If I stay, I’m wasting thirty years. If I leave, I can spend that time learning to love life in other ways, and maybe I’ll never think it was a mistake at all.”

“Right,” You nodded, looking back out the window, noticing people filling chairs. Your heart dropped to your stomach, wondering if she would follow through with her thoughts, or if she would stay out of obligation. Could you keep her occupied for long enough so she could come to the right decision? “I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart, but I can support whatever you decide.”

“Will… will you take me to Europe with you?” She asked, her eyes pooling with unshed tears. “You’re going back, right? I-I… I want to do what we talked about. I want to travel the world Jake, with you.” She stammered out, as if she couldn’t believe her own words. “I know I sound crazy, I know I do, but I’m not. You’re… you’re my whole world, the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. You’re my best friend, and there’s so many things we promised that we never got to do. I don’t want to miss out on that, or be stuck in my hometown knowing I made a mistake by letting you walk away again.”

“Y/N,” You warned, wondering if she realized the extent of what she was telling you. Suddenly it all became real, and it was much larger than the fantasy you had been living in since you sat down beside her.

Josh was right, and you were breaking your own heart by entertaining an impossible idea.

“No, don’t tell me I’m wrong. I dont want to hear it.” She shook her head, silently pleading with you to be honest with yourself just for one second.

She felt it too. You have to tell her.

“Jake, take me to Europe. I want to see the world. I want to be with you again, and Josh and Sam, and Danny too. I want that more than I’ve ever wanted this. I don’t want to wait a year before I see you again and… I just, I can’t.” She was saying it in every way she knew how, without having to say the actual words aloud. “He’s not the person I should be marrying, Jake.”

You wanted to tell her everything, how you wanted it even more than she did, but it was not right. She was nervous, second guessing because of cold feet on the biggest day of her life. You could not take her away from this and ruin everything. You could not take her away and have her regret choosing you. Making her unhappy would be the biggest mistake of your life, and you would never be able to repent from it.

“Listen to me,” you said, taking her face between your hands, gentle and telling of all the love you had for her. “You wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t right, sweetheart. You are the most self-assured, smart, and level-headed person I know, and right now, this isn’t you. You’re getting married, angel. You’re going to go outside and walk down the aisle and steal everyone’s breath away, because you are the most beautiful thing that’s ever graced this earth. You’re getting married, and you’re going to be happy. I promised you I’d be here to hold your hand so you couldn’t run, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Jake,” she protested, her bottom lip quivering as tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. “What happened to whatever I decide? What happened you supporting me no matter what? Why would you let me say all of that just to tell me I’m wrong?”

“Maybe I lied,” you whispered, swiping away a stray tear. “Trust me when I say, I want you to come with us so badly, but I don’t want you to regret it. Right now, I think you will.”

“I won’t, Jake. Been thinking about it since you got on the plane last time. Every time, really.” She shook her head, panic beginning to set it. More tears made an appearance, and you did your best to wipe them away as soon as they fell.

You loved her enough to do what was best, even if it killed you to do it.

“Don’t cry, angel. Only happy tears, today.” You hummed, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you as if her life depended upon it. You held her just the same, knowing she had no idea how much it meant to you to have her in your arms. She had no idea how much it meant to you that she wanted to go with you, instead.

That was the reason you had to make her stay, though. You could not in good faith allow her to run away, because deep down, the motive would always be just a little bit selfish.

“I love you, Jake.” She said it with so much conviction that it was hard to ignore. She said it like a confession, rather than a fact.

“I love you, sweetheart.” And yours was a confessional statement too, even if she did not realize it. Just as the words left your lips, a knock sounded on the door. It forced the two of you apart, even if it was painful for the both of you. You brought your thumb to her face again, carefully swiping away the specs of mascara that had fallen. Her sadness plagued her, but it did not stand in the way of her beauty. Once she was back in perfect condition, you urged her to answer the door.

She stood, white gown flowing angelically behind her as her fingers wrapped round the golden doorknob. She pulled it open, now face to face with her mother, who was so busy jittering with excitement she failed to notice the grief written across her daughters face. She looked in the room, her eyes landing on you and widening with a joyous shock, happy to see you had made the occasion.

Would her mother be this happy if she knew you almost ruined her daughters big day?

She barely uttered a greeting before turning back to the girl you loved so dearly. “It’s time, sweetheart. Your dad is waiting outside. Are you ready?”

Are you ready? The question pounded in your ears like a drum, louder with every passing moment.

Is she ready?

Are you ready?

Tell her, Jake.

She looked back at you over her shoulder, stunning and breathtaking as if she was waiting for you to answer for her. Her mother watched you, only slightly concerned about the tension in the air.

“She’s ready.” You forced a smile, nodding your head. Her eyes caught yours as she pleaded with you to stop, to stop everything and stay in the room with her for just a little while longer.

She wanted you, the same as you wanted her, but you were not good for her. You were just the thing that was standing in the way of her forever. If it was meant to be, it would have happened all of those years ago.

Right?

Tell her.

“Will you walk with me?” Her voice, sweet as honey and smooth as silk, settled deep somewhere in your heart with no intent to leave. Would you walk with her? Could you handle such heartbreak?

“Of course, sweetheart.” You nodded, taking a stand. You straightened out your jacket, drawing in a long breath as reality began to take hold.

This was it. The very thing you’d had nightmares about your entire life. The love of your life, vowing to love someone else for the rest of hers.

Her mother straightened her hair for her, running a soft hand over the line of her shoulders where lace met soft skin. She ensured she was pristine, not a thread out of place before kissing her cheek and promising to meet her out there. She looked at you only, her gaze never faltering.

She wanted you, Jacob. Only you.

Her mother disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in heavy silence once again. It felt like weights were tied around your ankles, holding you there and sentencing you to an eternity spent in limbo.

Tell her.

“Let’s go, angel.” You said, taking a step towards her. Her eyes, pleading again, but her mouth did not move. She stood, stoic and statue-like. She was petrified from her own heart, unsure if she could take the heartbreak of having you give her away.

“Okay.” She whispered, her throat scratchy and her hands trembling. She reached out to you, the action telling you she still needed you to hold her hand and make her stay. You grabbed on to it, lacing your fingers together once more, unable to ignore how right it felt. “Please stay with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving you.” Your chest was tight, burning with rage towards yourself. Why couldn’t you do it? Why were you biting your tongue if it was only hurting the both of you more? You swore yourself to secrecy, letting yourself believe that the truth was more painful than silence, but that was no longer true. The truth would set you free, and possibly even allow you to love the one thing you never allowed yourself to have.

The hallway was barren, but voices were in the distance. Happy, bubbly, excited. The echoes were the exact opposite of the emotion hanging between you two. She should feel that way. Why didn’t she feel that way? She was happy before you showed up, stealing the light from her eyes even on her biggest day.

Was she, though? Really and truly happy?

You two walked together, the personification of grief becoming you both despite the joy you were supposed to be feeling. When you neared the end of the hallway, you had to stop. The world was spinning, seemingly crumbling before your eyes. Your stomach was sick, your palms sweating and your knees ready to give out under your weight. You couldn’t do it, even if you promised her you would.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, panicked at your sudden loss of confidence.

“I…” you trailed off, looking over her face. “I can’t,” you shook your head.

“You can’t?” You can’t what?” She pressed, anger bubbling inside of her. She needed honesty, and she needed it now. Why couldn’t you muster the strength?

“I can’t go out there.”

tell her.

Tell her.

Tell Her.

Fucking Tell Her, Coward.

“I can’t… I can’t watch you marry someone else.”

The world appeared normal, the sun still desperately trying to peek out from underneath the clouds and the birds still singing their pitiful love songs. The chatter remained in the hallway, unchanged and unbearable. Her hand still rested in your own, and her eyes were still watching you. Your heart was still beating, and your knees did not give way. The same look was on her face, and the glimmer in her eyes never changed.

The world looked the same, but everything was different.

Finally, after a lifetime of holding it back, you told her the truth.

“Why?” She asked, desperate to hear you say it. Her expression was not one of horror, but one of great hopefulness. “Tell me Jake. I need to hear you say it.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You rasped, your own throat dry as your words came out with a nervous wobble. “I can’t watch you marry him, because I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck, Jake.” The words hit you hard, like a knife even though she did not brandish them like a weapon. “Took you long enough, don’t you think?” You we’re too immersed in your own confession to care about her chastise. You opened the flood gates, and now there was no sign of stopping.

“When we were five, I loved you. Way back when we used to make mud pies and play pretend in my parents’ front yard, I wanted to do it with you for the rest of my life. When we were twelve, I loved you. We didn’t know what love meant, but we knew how much we meant to each other. When we were sixteen, making plans in your bedroom to travel the world together, I loved you so much it hurt. Right now, I love you the same as I did then, but even more so, because I know what it means, and I know it’s never going to go away.” You confessed, feeling the weight of the world being lifted from you. “Europe wasn’t everything we dreamed of, because you weren’t there. You weren’t there, Y/N, and I spent every night wishing you were. I came home to watch you get married, but I can’t do it, because I love you too much.”

“I can’t get married, Jake.” She said, looking over her shoulder to ensure nobody was onlooking the situation between you.

“I wanted to encourage you, to make sure you followed through with it because you deserve this life, sweetheart. You deserve the house, the dogs and the expensive ring and fancy wedding venue. You deserve everything, but I was always so afraid I couldn’t give it to you. Right now, I’m afraid that nobody could ever give you what I could, because nobody could ever love another person this way, this much.”

“You give me everything, Jake. You gave me the world when we were five, and you’re giving me the world right now, without even knowing it.” She said, the tears rushing to her eyes again. “I can’t get married to him, because I only ever wanted to marry you.” Her cheeks were damp with her misery, feeling guilty on behalf of a man she did not love nearly half as much as you. “I made this life, this new dream because you left, and I was afraid I’d never get the chance to live out the dream we made when we were kids. I spent all day unsure if I was making the right decision, but you showed up at my door, and now I know that I’m not. Marrying him has never been the right decision, and if I go out there, I’ll be looking for you in the crowd, wishing it was you standing beside me, instead.”

“Make the right decision, then.” You pleaded, knowing you could not make the first move. “Make the right decision, Y/N, because I’ve always been too scared to do it myself. Make the right decision before we lose our chance, please.”

She sprung forward, her hand slipping from yours and instead wrapping around your neck. One hand anchored on her hip and the other cupped her cheek, drawing her into you as she pressed her lips to your own. It was a feeling you’d been waiting a lifetime for, but the daydreams never came close to how it truly felt.

You told her, and she made the right decision, just like it was always meant to be. You’d been so afraid of something you never needed to fear, because she loved you just the same.

You could feel her tears on your cheeks as she pulled away, but the smile on her face contradicted the inkling of sadness that lingered on her skin.

“Happy tears, Jake.” She said, her face still so close to your own. “I’m happy, now. I’m not second guessing it, because I’ve spent the last six months making sure this was how I truly felt. Today was the last piece of the puzzle. You walking in that door made everything make sense. As much as it hurts to leave him here, it would hurt him much more if I married him while I was in love with someone else.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You said, running your fingertips over the soft skin of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed again, enamoured with the feeling of you touching her.

“Don’t be,” She shook her head. “I could have said it too, but it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is we said it now, before it was too late.”

“You’re dad’s gonna kill me.” She let out a laugh, the first genuine one since you got there.

“No, he’ll be fine. He likes you much more than he likes him.” She assured you. “My mom, though, is a different story. She’ll get over it.” She promised, leaning forward and pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “But, if we’re gonna make a break for it, we should go now, before anyone comes looking for us.”

“Right,” You grinned, nodding in response. “Let’s go get your things. I’ll text Josh.”

“He’s here too?” Her face lit up at the knowledge. You nodded, smiling at her joy.

“Everyone is.”

“Oh, god. They’ll be a witness to my craziness.” She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. The emotion was high, surging through the both of you like never before.

“Your crazy is mine too, angel.” You said, giving her hip a squeeze. “Partners in crime, remember?”

“Right.” She said, grinning up at you.

Without another word, she led you back towards the suite. You closed the door behind you, giving her just enough time to grab the most important things. You watched her scribble a note down on the back of a wedding invitation, likely an apology for the now ex-fiancé she left hanging. As you watched, you couldn’t help but smile, falling more in love with her by the second and only feeling slightly bad for the man she was leaving behind. He was losing the best girl in the world, but you could not dwell on his loss, because it was your gain. You were walking away with the love of your life, and he was losing a fiancé. You were sure the poor guy could find someone else.

To you, if you lost her, you knew there would never be another. Even before you lost her forever, you knew that to be true.

She turned to you, frazzled but still stunning despite her panic. She had a few things clutched tightly in her hand and a change of clothes in her arms, walking towards you and showing you she was not regretting her choice to leave. If anything, she was over the moon, and you could see it in her eyes. Instead of uncertainty, there was happiness sparkling within the beautiful hue of her irises.

“You want me to take that?”

“Yes please.” She breathed, handing the small items off to you. As you grabbed them, you noticed her finger was now ringless. The shiny diamond was sitting atop the goodbye letter, which was stuck in plain sight. “Tell me I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not.” You assured her. “Like I said, if you are, I am too.”

“I’m okay with being crazy together.” She said, more light in her eyes than ever before.

“The guys are gonna meet us in the lot out back, so you can get out of here without any questions. We can worry about the rest later.”

“Okay,” she nodded, a nervous jitter running through her.

“Hey, we’ll be okay. Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.” She said, certain in her answer.

“Then let’s get out of here.” You grinned, opening the door for her. She was still in her dress, her change of clothes held tightly to her chest. Before she stepped back into the hallway, she kicked off her heels and kissed your cheek as she passed by. As she sprinted down the hallway, your whole body flooded with love, but this time, you did not need to hold it back. After a lifetime of surpressing it, it finally had somewhere to go.

In true crazy fashion, as you sprinted behind her, another idea popped in your head. You wondered if her crazy had run out, or if she was just crazy enough to go along with it.

You thought you ought to try, because the day had been full of pleasant surprises. After all, the worst she could do was say no.

“Hey,” You called out to her, laughing as she looked back at you over her shoulder. “Slow down for a second.” You pleaded, childlike joy reflecting on both of your faces.

“What’s up?” She asked, a little breathless as her feet slowed to a stop. “Please tell me you’re not changing your mind.”

“What? F’course not.” You waved the idea off, knowing it was completely incredulous. “How impulsive are you feeling right now?”

“Considering I just ran away from my own wedding, I’d say very. Why?” She grinned, her fingers lingering over the handle of the back door, ready to flee at a moments notice.

Perhaps she wasn’t impulsive at all, and the idea of staying was harder for her than trying to leave. She was waiting for you to ask, all of this time. Even as she forced herself to marry someone else, all she ever wanted was you.

“Why waste the dress?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. She watched you for a moment, stunned at your words and unsure if she understood.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you began, checking over your shoulder to ensure nobody was looking for her. “Why waste the expensive dress? Marry me instead.” Her eyes widened, but she did not look horrified at the prospect. “I mean, come on. You’re in a wedding dress, I’m in a suit, I can buy flowers anywhere, and I want to be with you so bad I was willing to object the whole thing in the middle of your vows. If it hasn’t changed in twenty years, I’m sure it won’t change tomorrow.”

“A-are you sure? Like, really sure? You won’t regret it in the morning?” She asked, curious if you were in your right mind.

“I wouldn’t regret it in a million years, my love.” You promised. “I promise I’ll do it right, I’ll buy a ring and we’ll do a ceremony when the smoke clears from this disaster.” You both let out a laugh, knowing that’s exactly what it was. “But why waste the dress, especially when we know what we want?”

“Okay, crazy.” She nodded, cracking the door open. “I’ll marry you. Why waste the dress?”

“You mean it?” You followed behind her, noticing the rocks littering the paved lot and her shoeless feet. You reached out, grabbing her arm before she could step outside. She looked at you, then looked down at you taking your shoes off for her to wear. Her cheeks tinged red, a silent thank you dancing in her eyes as she jumped into the shoes that were just a little too large for her. You looked out into the lot, finding your three brothers standing by your car, waiting for you to join them.

“F’course I do, Jake.” She said, giving your hand a squeeze. “Partners in crime, right?” You couldn’t seem to stop the smile from blooming once again.

“Partners in crime.” You confirmed, stepping outside into the warm afternoon air.

“I love you, Jake.” She said, the sun shining down on her beautiful face, illuminating her in the most perfect picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. “Feels so good to finally say it.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You replied, taking in your surroundings. As you watched the sunlight shine over her face, your heart soared with affection. “Look,” you said, catching her attention. First, she looked to you, then followed your finger to the sky, where she could see the sun had finally broke free from the clouds, shining down without a single thing brave enough to stop it. “The sun is shining after all, sweetheart.”

As if you needed anything else to solidify that you had made the right decision, but the sun shining, eager to carry you home to start over only correctly this time, was enough to assure you of the importance of your choice. As you led her to the car, watching her eyes light up as she greeted your brothers, you were sickened at the idea you ever had a single shred of doubt at all. She was your partner in crime, whether that be at five years old, or eighty, and you were eternally grateful for that fact alone.

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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VALOR MASTERPOST

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader, Jake x OC, Daniel x OC

Word Count: 283k+

WARNINGS FOR THIS SERIES: 18+ MINORS DNI - Alcohol, Gambling, Smoking, Marijuana, Cursing, Dramatic Themes, Nightmares. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration, Pet Names, Spanking. Angst Including: Mentions of Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Struggle and Poverty, Suicidal Thoughts, Allusions to Suicide, Mentions of Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Cheating, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Death, Fire & Property Loss, Physical Fighting, Blood.

This story is a collaboration with my lovely pal @gretavanmoon.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

Chapter List:

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five Part One | Five Part Two

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine Part One | Nine Part Two

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Epilogue

#t’s fic recs

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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i finally got the chance to finish, and let me tell you, if you haven’t read this yet, get to it. Bravo, thank you for blessing us with another phenomenal story 🤍

Valor (Epilogue)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Major Fluff, Talks of Marriage, Talks of Pregnancy, More Fluff, and Kissing.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A/N: Thank you all so much for all the support you have shown us throughout the entirety of this series. We had the best time writing this and building this world, and we know a little piece of Valor will live with us forever. Keep your eyes peeled for our next project coming to you soon!🍀

A project in collaboration with my talented co-writer and best friend, @gretavanmoon.

“Love is many things. It is varied. One thing love is not, is unsure.” - Maya Angelou

TEN MONTHS LATER

JAKE POV

“Night, Jake! See you Monday!”

“G’night Sal, have a good weekend!” you hear the back door to the shop slam closed as your mechanic paces out, signifying the end of the work week. It had been a long one, customers and vehicles flying in and out of the shop more quickly than you could really keep up with, but nonetheless, you were thankful for them and their loyalty.

A quick glance to the clock on the wall reads 5:07, and you know that Y/N will have dinner ready soon. You know not to be late, or you’ll risk having to eat the cold leftovers that your brothers left behind. You toss your dirty rag over into the bucket and strip out of your coveralls, your mouth suddenly watering at the thought of a hot meal and a couple cold beers to rinse down the chaos of your busy week.

You flip the lights off and fumble for your keys, turning before you exit to make sure everything is off and in its place, ready for your return on Monday morning. You take a second, letting the feeling hit you that you have finally done it. You finally have your own shop, with your name on the front of the building, your name on the deed, and your reputation proceeding you more positively than it has your entire life. You’ve always had a hard time being proud of yourself, but as the days flow by and the success of the business grows, you let yourself bask in it. You let yourself be proud of the new life you’ve created with your family.

The gold of the setting sun hits your eyes as you make your way through the parking lot to Valor, your dirty boots tracking grease behind you as you walk. You receive a few fond waves of goodbye from your fellow business owners closing up their own shops for the weekend. You’d been anxious about buying the older mechanic’s shop right in the middle of Memphis, but it had been kept up well, and the old man that owned it was over the moon that a young man like yourself showed so much interest in making it your own. He even let you keep all of his old tools and supplies after your stern but appreciative declination, insisting that he ‘Ain’t got no more use for ‘em, anyway’. It’s smaller than the old shop in Joslyn, but the setup is efficient, and the foundation is sturdy. And it had fallen right into your lap for an extremely reasonable price.

You force the key into the lock of Valor, twisting it to hear the mechanism unlock and spring free. You cruise out of the lot and toward home, ready to relax the evening away as a brand new, twenty-seven year old business owner. It was funny, and a little ironic, honestly, that this was the first birthday you are spending not drunk and trying to fix Ace’s pride and joy. For the past seven years, that had been all you’d known on your birthday- drink until you’re blind, try to figure out what’s wrong with the son of a bitch, get too mad to figure it out, and give up. You gave up, every single time.

…Until Y/N came around and turned your entire world on its axis. She’d thrown you into an adventure you never expected, and had half a mind to destroy altogether, until you fell in love with her. Now she’s all you know, all you want. All you think about, all you want to be surrounded by. You’d picked out a house together and made it into a home, you’d filled it with cheap furniture and secondhand items, but neither of you cared. It was yours. And you were happy with what you had.

The memory of Ace still lies heavy on your mind, especially now that you’re surrounded with a whole new set of faces that laugh like him, walk like him, feel like him…

Since being away from Joslyn and all the negativity it held, you’d finally found your happiness. But you hate to admit that you with the absence of the shop and the reminder of his death in your home, you have also begun to mourn Ace all over again. For some reason that makes absolutely no sense at all, you feel him more, here. In a place he’d never been. You can’t figure out why, but you like to believe that maybe he has finally found his peace, now that the truth about his death is out and that justice has been served with Teddy. It’s twisted, and confusing and dark, but this time around, the mourning feels healthy. Like you finally get to let him go in the way you should have when you were eighteen. You know he’s looking out for you, now.

Every evening after work, you climb into Valor and roll the windows down, turn up the radio as loud as it will go, and you talk to him. This…this is where you feel him most. You tell him about your day, about the business, about Sam and Josh and Danny and Y/N. You can almost feel him riding along with you in the passenger seat, cigarette hanging from his lips as he leans an elbow out the window.

Sam looks like him. Sam looks a lot like him. Sam is taller and lankier, of course, but there is something about his features and quirks that sometimes makes you stop in your tracks. You’d always been told by Bubba and even Danny that you look most like Ace, but of course you couldn’t see that. But you see Ace every single time Sam gets confused, which is rare, but. The way his eyebrows sink together as he thinks, the way his arms move when he talks…it was all Ace. You wonder if you and Josh look like Stella.

Finally, you can say Ace’s name without feeling like your mouth is full of concrete. You can finally laugh when you tell his old stories. And today is no different, except now you’re telling him that his other sons are waiting for you to get home quickly.

…Maybe you’ll have a few beers. It is your birthday, after all.

—

You pull into the wide driveway at the same time as Josh, the music blaring out of the speakers of his Beamer. You slam the door to Valor closed, making a mental note to give her a spit shine tomorrow.

“Happy birthday you greasy son of a bitch!” Josh grabs you up in a giant embrace as you both round the fronts of your respective vehicles.

“Happy birthday, brother,” you smile as you let him bring him in.

“Look at us, twenty fucking seven, huh? Never thought I’d live this long, let alone live long enough to see it with you.”

You laugh, but only a little. “I dunno if that should make me happy or sad, Josh.”

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya,” he jests as you both walk up the cement sidewalk to your front porch. “We’re gonna live to be ninety nine. Both of us. And we’ll be sitting on our asses bossin’ our kids and grandkids and great grandkids around all day long. That sound like a plan to you?” You’d known your twin for only around ten months now, but you still have trouble getting used to his personality always being on one hundred as yours normally stayed on a calm and cool fifty. But damn, if you didn’t love the guy.

You place a hand on his shoulder before you turn the knob to open the door. “Sure, brother. Ninety nine.” You open the door and kick off your boots, making your way into the house with Josh in tow. You know for a fact, though, that you want nothing more than to do the exact thing Josh had just explained. Living out the rest of your days with him by your side sounds like the perfect way to spend your life. You have to, now. Neither of you have gone a day without seeing each other since the day you finally met. Though you live separate lives, they have begun to intertwine, just like they have always been destined to. You hardly want to make a move without running it by him first.

“Babe! I’m home!” you yell through the house, finding it oddly quiet. “Babe!”

“In here, Jake!” you hear her sweet voice from the kitchen. You make your way in, seeing her standing with her arms awkwardly crossed at her chest, and a coy smile playing on her lips. Sam is beside her, a towel tossed over his shoulder. He has the same look of anticipation. A few more steps and you’re in the kitchen, seeing a familiar face you truly thought you’d never see again.

“Jacob, my boy! How are you?!” Oz’s gruff voice hasn’t changed a bit.

“Oz! What are you doing here?!” you make your way over to him, taking him in a handshake and friendly embrace. “Shit, I thought I’d never see you again!”

“Of course you were gonna see me again, boy! I’m Oz! The wizard…” He bites his unlit cigar between his teeth as he gives you an ear-to-ear smile, taking in your appearance. “Forgive me, Jake, this is my Lucienda.” He backs away and presents her to you… a tall, mysterious woman whose facial features nearly knock you over, she’s so ethereally beautiful. She gently reaches her hand out to you, and you take it with the utmost caution. Your reflexes almost tell you to kiss her hand, but you stop yourself.

“So nice to meet you, ma’am. Oz is… an excellent friend.” you mutter, still taken with her piercing deep brown eyes.

“The pleasure is mine, Jacob. Truly. Oscar has told me much about you, and your brother Daniel. I’m sorry I never got to witness one of your matches before everything happened, I hear you and Daniel were quite the competitors.” Her voice sounds like silk drifting over clouds, soft and serene.

“Uh, yes ma’am. Daniel…Daniel taught me everything I know, actually. I’m so sorry he’s not here to see you, too…”

“Yeah, yeah… where is that long-haired rascal, huh?” Oz intervenes as you’re still processing why Lucienda was never at any of your fights.

“He’s in and out, we see him every few weeks, or so.” Y/N explains. “He’s busking all over the state, hopping around and getting little gigs here and there.”

“Busking? He plays music?” Lucienda asks, a bit surprised.

“He does,” you say. “He’s pretty damn good, too.”

“Boy’s got many talents, doesn’t he?” Oz bellows his giant laugh. “That’s a shame… Though we’re happy to see our old friends, we were hoping we would catch you all here, together…” Oz says, stepping closely toward you as he rolls his cigar between his fingertips. “It’s been some months now, boy, and I finally feel safe goin’ back to my old ways, you know? Time to call up Hector and get things rollin’ again. Luce and I were in town, thought we’d stop in and see if you and Daniel would like to join us again…”

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caught off guard by his question. Your eyes scan from Oz to Lucienda to Y/N, and even quickly to Sam as you contemplate, all of them patiently waiting for your answer.

“I dunno, Oz… I–I’m doin’ well for myself and my family, I’ve finally got a shop of my own, makin’ good honest money, payin’ my bills, ya know. Things I couldn’t do wi–”

“With that motherfucker Teddy breathin’ down ya neck?” he snaps, flipping his coattail back and shoving his hand in his pocket.

You’re silent for just a second. “Yeah… he, definitely didn’t help matters.”

“Heard about what happened back in Missouri. What happened to our buddy Fridge. Your brother and Y/N here just explained all the rest.” Oz stands in front of you now, his eyes narrowed as his hand rests on your shoulder. “Jacob, I’m so sorry about your father. How everything went down with… alla that. I didn’t know ya daddy, but if he’s anything like you, and your brothers, here… he must have been one hell of a man. Didn’t deserve to go out like that. Especially at the hand of such a condescending scum of the earth monster like Teddy.” Oz’s voice is quieter than you’d ever heard it, and you can feel the sincerity dripping from his words. You nod slowly, silently thanking him for his condolences. “If you ever want a place on my roster again, it’s yours. You hear? Daniel, too. You boys have a lot of heart in you. Crowds loved you. Don’t like to see it wasted, but I’m proud of you and what you’ve built here.”

“Thank you, Oz.” you say genuinely.

“Plus, I bet you get mighty jealous when you watch your brother here fight in the pros, huh?” Oz backs away and is his candid, overzealous self again as he takes Josh in a headlock. “Hector’s pride and joy, this one here!”

Josh’s face turns a bright red as he barely struggles to free himself from the likes of a legend like Oz. “I don’t know about pride and joy, Oz, but I would say I’m his favorite!” you hear Josh boast from beneath Oz’s arm pit.

You slowly make your way over to Y/N, taking her in an after-work hello hug as the two of you finally find a free second. Sam busies himself with something in the oven while Lucienda sips on whatever martini Y/N mixed up for her. “How was your day, baby?” she mutters into your chest.

“Perfect, now,” you breathe as you kiss the top of her head.

“Y/N, my sweetheart, come sit with me,” you hear Lucienda’s soothing voice beckon Y/N, patting the empty barstool on the other side of the kitchen island. Y/N gives you a look of confusion, and instantly, you know what she is about to ask. You let her free from your arms and watch as she walks to take the seat beside her.

You and Y/N had discussed this before, one late night lying in bed right after everything had gone down in Miami, and you’d finally made it back to Joslyn. She’d expressed how she was upset at the timing of it all, because she was really enjoying learning the tricks of the trade when it came to the underground fighting business. She was picking it up quickly, and she was good at it. Moreover, Lucienda apparently trusted her, at least that’s what Oz had told her when he basically forced her to lie to you about going to Atlanta for them, her very first test of loyalty. And she’d passed with flying colors.

Now, as you watch her sit beside the beautiful anomaly of a woman that is Lucienda, you see just how much Y/N mirrors her. Not so much in looks, but in confidence. In manner, and in poise. She’s quick-witted and smart, everything Lucienda is most likely looking for in a business partner. Your heart drops into your stomach with anticipation for her, and what Lucienda could be proposing.

Just then you hear a harsh knock on the door that startles you. A familiar knock that you’d heard a thousand times. Two quick knocks, followed by one…

“I’ll get it!” Josh hops up from his stance and rushes to the door as your stomach flips with anticipation. Seconds later, Josh is re-entering the kitchen with Bubba following closely behind him.

“Bub?!” you wail, rushing to take him in your arms similarly as you did with Oz, but with a lot more heart behind it. “What is everyone doin’ here?”

Bubba opens his arms to you as you crash into him, feeling like the world is finally right where it needs to be. Bubba is here, Bubba is safe. You feel his chin rest on your shoulder as your arms squeeze each other, and you have to fight back a tear that’s threatening to drip from your eye.

“Bub, you drove here?! Or did you fly, when did you–”

“I drove, boy!” he chuckles as he pulls back from you.

“Bubba, that’s a long trip, and you came all by yourself?” suddenly you are overwhelmingly worried about him driving such a long distance.

“Shoot, boy. Ain’t nothin’ but open roads. Stopped ‘bout every few hours to fill up the tank and stretch my legs. Was nice, seein’ outside of Joslyn again. Been a good bit since I traveled. Plus, wasn’t gonna miss your birthday, son. Important day for yeh. For all of us.” Bubba squeezes his hat between his hands as he speaks. It hit you that this day is hard for him, too. The anniversary of losing the best friend he ever had.

You give him a reassuring smile as you invite him further into your home. “M’glad you came, Bub. Missed you. You like the digs?” you ask as you motion around the house.

“Hell of a home, boy. Y/N has it lookin’ mighty nice, too. Proud of you. Both of you.”

“Thanks Bub. I hate that Danny ain’t here to see you. He’s probably gonna be callin’ here in a bit, though.” you say.

“Funny you should mention that, boy.” Bubba responds with a chuckle and a nod of his head. “Go take a look outside.”

You dash back out the front door, finding Danny sitting straddled over his bike, pulling his helmet off of his curls. You throw your arms up to your sides. “What is this, a family reunion?!” you squeal as Danny hangs his helmet off his handlebars and begins to make his way up the drive to you. “Why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“What, you think I was gonna miss seein’ you on your birthday? We don’t do that anymore, Jake. Not like I live five hundred miles away or somethin’,” Danny rushes you and tackles into you, pushing his shoulder into your chest. “God, you smell good. Diesel fuel and grease. Fuck, I miss it sometimes.”

“Come back home and work for me then, asshole. Strange not havin’ you around,” you say honestly, but knowing that he was out making his dreams come true just the same as you are.

“Might one day,” he says. “Might not.” He gives you a quick shove to the shoulder. “You miss me don’t you?”

“I don’t, but I know somebody that misses you an awful lot…” you say, making your way back inside.

“Who, Y/N? I told you, Jake. If she misses me that much, she can stay with me on the couch when I come visit but that’s all I’ll agree to…”

“No, you fuckin’ idiot. Look who else came to visit…” you watch Danny’s eyes light up as he sees Bubba standing in the doorway.

“Bubba! What in the hell are you doin’ here?!” Danny takes Bubba in a warm embrace just as you had.

“Saw yeh ridin’ that bike of yours as I was comin’ through town, knew you had to be headin’ this way, too. Heard you comin’ down the road behind me.” Bubba explains. “Josh and Sam invited me up here for the birthday celebration, though I ain’t much of a surprise…”

“Of course you are, Bub,” Danny says. “Just like old times.”

As the three of you step through the front door you notice balloons covering the ground in the living room and a few red streamers twisted across the doorways. You see Josh in the corner, tying off a balloon, slingshotting it to the floor to meet the rest. They’d quickly decorated in your absence.

“What’s all this?” you ask, a little confused, stepping further into the room. You kick at the balloons, watching the colors dance across the floor.

“What, you never had a birthday party before?” Josh jokes, blowing air into another balloon. You stare at him, unsure how to tell him that you hadn’t. “Shit, really?”

“Casserole is ready!”

You laugh, shaking your head as you hear Sam call out to you from the kitchen. Of course he made that casserole. You walk with Josh, feeling his arm swing around your shoulder. Bubba and Daniel bring up the back as the four of you congregate with the others in the kitchen, finding Y/N deep in conversation with Oz and Lucienda.

You catch the tail end of Oz’s story, listening in as he wraps it up. “...And so I called up my buddy Frankie, and he made a few phone calls. Was out a few days later. Cost me some dough but here I am.”

“They can’t lock up the Oz for too long.” Lucienda adds, turning attention to you and Daniel as you enter. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

“Daniel! My boy, there you are! I didn’t think i’d be seein’ ya!” Oz shouts, reaching across you to shake Daniel’s hand.

“Here I am.” he smiles, returning his firm handshake.

“Was just telling Y/N how I was able to get out of that mess in Miami.” he says, looking to you and Bubba. “But, now it’s a party! Sam, I heard that casserole of yours is ready. We won’t keep you, just wanted to stop by and say hello.”

“Oh good, another casserole!” Daniel jokes.

“Shut up Daniel, you love my cooking.” Sam mocks.

“Please, you should both stay. We have plenty, and there’s cake!” Y/N interjects, her voice hopeful.

“What do ya think Luce? I wouldn’t mind.” Oz asks.

“I think it’s a great idea, I happen to love a good casserole.” she smiles, nodding her head at Y/N.

—

The seven of you gather around your dining room table, sharing the meal that your brother so kindly made for you. A few streamers hang from the light fixture, and the table is filled with talking and laughter. You take a second to take in your surroundings, finding that nearly every single person that is important to you is seated around this table.

You let your hand grip into Y/N’s thigh, a silent ‘thank you’ for putting this all together. The life you have now wouldn’t have been possible without her, and you suddenly can’t imagine your life any other way.

“So how did you find us?” Daniel asks Oz, taking another forkful of his second plate of casserole.

Oz lifts his fork to point at Sam, your head snapping to look over at him. “Got a call from my buddy here. Wanted me to have your new phone number. Got to talkin’. Told me what went down with you boys, how you found each other, and everything with ya daddy. Hell of a life boys. Hell of a story. Respect the hell out of you all, not many people face the things you have. Anyway, got your address from him, figured I could pop in next time I was passin’ through, and here I am.”

“We’re glad you came. Here just in time for the party.” Y/N adds, her voice sweet as she turns to look at you.

“Yeah, I’m glad you came. All of you.” you say, looking from Oz to Bubba, and finally to Daniel.

The phone ringing breaks the tension of the sweet moment, Josh’s chair skidding across the floor as he jumps up. “I’ll grab it! Be right back!”

You all share a smile, truly trying to piece together where he draws his endless energy from.

“Should we move to the living room, I’m taking song requests…” Daniel jokes, standing from the table.

Oz and Lucienda laugh, standing along with Bubba as the four of them make their way into the living room.

“Thanks for this Sammy, it was perfect.” you nod, giving him a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome, brother. Happy Birthday.” he smiles, standing from the table to join the others in the living room.

Now it’s just you and Y/N left at the dining table, her hand playing with yours as it rests in her lap.

“Jake…” she starts, turning to look at you.

“Yeah baby? What’s up?” you answer.

“Lucienda…She offered me the job.”

Your smile takes over your face, as you squeeze her hand in yours. “You should do it!”

“Well, I told her I wanted to talk to you first. We haven’t really even talked about it. I mean, it’s kind of a big commitment, and we just sorta got our life started here, ya know?” she says, her eyes peering into yours.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We did, and it’s perfect. But I know you love that job, and you are so good at it. You have to take it Y/N. I want you to take it.”

“I mean, is this…Is this what we want to do?” she asks, swallowing nervously.

You cup her cheek in your hand, offering her a soft grin. “Baby, I want you to do what you love. You know I’ll be here waiting for you. You’ve got me. I’m yours.”

She turns her head in your palm to place a kiss on your hand. “What about… You know…”

You laugh, biting your lips together before turning your eyes back to hers. “We keep trying. You’ll only be gone a few days every couple of weeks. That’s plenty of time to practice. We will figure it out. Take it as it comes.”

She shakes her head and leans forward to place a sweet kiss to your lips. “I like that plan.”

“Me too, baby. You have no idea.”

“I made you a real cake this year, but you’ll have to pretend that it’s half Josh’s and share.” she smiles, standing up from her chair.

Your hands grab her hips and pull her into you, “What if I kinda wanted the other kind?” you whisper into her chest, kissing the skin exposed by the dip in her dress.

She bends down to take your lips in another kiss, this one a little longer. “Then you’ll be happy to know it’s in the freezer. That's one tradition I won’t ever let die.”

“I fuckin’ love you, Y/N. For the rest of my life, I swear.”

“I love you, Jake.” she answers, sauntering off into the living room where Daniel’s guitar is filling the room with music.

You push up from the table and walk into the kitchen, finding Josh and Sam working on the dishes. You spy the cake she was talking about, sitting proudly on the small kitchen table, a glass cover over top of the two layer cake. Your heart leaps in your chest as you look at it. A real birthday cake, not only for you, but for your twin.

This past year has been one of the hardest of your life, but also one of the most rewarding. Every hardship had brought you something great in return, and every challenge, a reward larger than you ever imagined possible.

Josh steps over to you, admiring the cake alongside you, nudging your arm with his elbow. “I think it’s safe to say that she loves you a lot, man.”

“I know she does. She loves all of us. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve her.” you admit.

He laughs, slapping his hand across your back, “You gonna make an honest woman out of her? Marry her? Maybe make me Uncle Josh?” he jokes, but you turn and look at him, a note of seriousness on your face.

You don’t respond, just smiling and shrugging your shoulders playfully.

“Is that right? Which part?” he presses.

You shrug again, not wanting to give up the truth, but the thing about having a twin…there is no such thing as a secret.

“Wait, she’s not already…” he questions, and you quickly shake your head.

“No, no. Not yet.” you answer, peering through the doorway to see if you can catch a glimpse of her in the living room.

“So…”

“So, hopefully sooner rather than later.” you answer, not wanting to tell him too much.

“Fuck yeah, so you two are like, trying to then…” he asks, grabbing Sam’s attention. He walks over to join you with a huge smile on his face.

“What was that?” he asks, grinning ear to ear.

“Nothing, be quiet…” you urge, looking over your shoulder.

“Jake and Y/N are doin’ the damn thing.” Josh laughs.

“Shut up! Shut up! You’re being too loud, she's gonna kill me! Don’t you dare tell her that I even mentioned this.” you growl, secretly feeling the same excitement they are.

“You’ll be a great dad, Jake.” Sam whispers, placing his hand on your back as he returns to the kitchen sink.

You hear the doorbell ring, wondering who else could possibly show up tonight. Everyone you knew was in your house already.

“I’ll grab it.” Josh says, stepping away from you and into the hallway. Sam dries the last dish and puts it away, tossing the wet dish rag onto the counter.

“Thanks for doing that man, I appreciate it.” you say, leaning onto the kitchen table.

“No problem, happy to do it. Should we, uh, go see who is at the door?” he asks, straightening his shirt.

“Probably a damn salesman, they are bad around here this time of day.” you scoff, watching him make his way into the hallway.

You start to follow after him, but something stops you. You notice the fresh flowers on the kitchen table, bright yellow, pink and green, sitting proudly in a familiar old rusted coffee can. You think back to Y/N telling you that her mother kept wildflowers on their kitchen table, and now, she was keeping that tradition going. You swore right then that you’d pick every flower you ever saw just to make her happy.

A new realization has your heart leaping in your chest. You know you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Here, in your very own home, with your brothers and the love of your life, ready to start something bigger. To be something bigger than you ever dreamed possible for yourself. You could confidently say that at this point in your life you were happy, and you didn’t see that changing. You didn’t want it to.

You let out a content sigh as you make your way down the hallway, finding it oddly quiet as you make your way towards the living room. You shove your hands in your pockets as you walk, seeing Y/N just stepping out of the hallway bathroom. She links her arm through yours as you walk, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Kinda quiet in here.” she murmurs just as you step into the living room. You see Josh and Sam standing in front of the door, quietly talking to whoever is on the other side. It’s when they step away from the open door that you stop in your tracks.

There standing at your front door is someone you never expected to see. Someone you’d only seen in photographs, black and white at that. You told yourself it couldn’t possibly be her, but as she steps through the door you get a better look at her, confirming what your heart already knew to be true.

She walks slowly towards you, a soft smile on her face, stopping in front of you as Josh and Sam step up behind her.

“My Jacob…” Her voice is a whisper, a look of long awaited relief on her face as she lays eyes on you for the first time in over twenty years. You feel Y/N’s grip on your hand tighten, a reassuring squeeze bringing you back to reality. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you step closer to her, a smile crossing your lips knowing that the final piece in the puzzle of your life had finally fallen into place.

“Mom…”

Thank you all so much for everything. See you soon.

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#t’s fic recs #danny recs #jake recs

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